Tag Archives: thoughts

Art Journal #13: Sly Demon of Death

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And a productive weekend to all of you too. I just finished Brooklyn Nine-Nine and would you look at that. I did not have anything else to do–no more series to binge-watch and no more video games to play.

This is Papa Ge from a musical, Once on this Island. The story, which can be appreciated if you put things on perspective, was…okay. But the songs, damn. Those songs really make your ass shake. Plus, Lea Salonga is one of the cast!

Now, moving on to this entry, as you can see it’s not as clean as it’s supposed to. This actually as been a recurring problem. I realized I did not really have the patience of keeping my work clean. It has always been messy and careless, which is not a good idea. You see, there’s this article I read about art and perception. There are times when we get comfortable with making messy art because it’s…art(?) and we don’t really see a problem with it (regarding proportion and lighting and stuff like that).

But that’s where we’re wrong because that’s just our perception speaking. Our brain sort of figures out what the art is supposed to look like. It only registers the form and it fills in the blanks and it tweaks the shading. And the details are completely erased. So one look and we’d think, “Oh it doesn’t look so bad,”. But if you look closely you’d see how careless everything is!

Gah it’s amazing how our brains do their work.

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6 Months

I just want to stop by and talk about work. I just realized I don’t really talk about my job much because I don’t think it’s…polite? proper? I don’t know, when you’re putting stuff out there in the internet, there are specific things that you avoid talking about. Things that may affect your relationships, your career and even your future. Also, there isn’t really much to talk about because…I don’t talk about the lectures that I listened to when I was still at school. It’s the same like that.

But something really divine happened. Nope, it’s not a promotion or an increase or anything like that. I just finished a 3D-animated video that explains how a certain machine works. I can’t tell you the details involving it but there’s a lot of things I can tell you about how it was like working on it for more than half a year. Yep, it’s one of the longest project I’ve ever had in my career.

At first, I was genuinely excited. I’ve had 3D projects before and they’ve all been fun and fulfilling. So at the beginning of August 2017, I was happily making assets and trying out different lights for the scene. There were revisions regarding the placements and the models but it was okay. It was part of my job. Until halfway through the animation process and the revisions started to go on a different path. It turns out that I failed to really grasp what my client envisioned. The final output was starting to get blurry. And the deadline was getting further and further away from what we had all expected. What everyone had expected of me.

Christmas and New Year came and went, I was still fixing a lot of things. I welcomed 2018 with more frustrations. I wasn’t able to help in other projects because I was stuck with this one. It wasn’t even supposed to be difficult. When you look at it in an animator’s point of view, it’s really just a simple 1-minute clip. The characters were simple stick figures, the cameras were placed in just one angle and the simulations were minimal. It wasn’t supposed to take this long.

That was when I started doubting myself. Maybe I wasn’t really that good. I never dreamed of becoming the best. But I sure as hell never wanted to be the worst. But that’s what it felt like. It felt like I failed my client, my boss and myself. Even if they were nice and patient enough to point out the stuff that needed fixing, there were voices in my head that weighed me down. Why do I keep making mistakes? Why do I miss the important details? Why am I taking so slow? And I started to compare myself to everyone else as they finish one project after another. Sure, it’s really about the quality over quantity but holy shit every output they produce were so good that I cannot even look at my own work anymore. And I started to think about how we all started the same way and how much everyone else has achieved and learned. What did I learn from the past year? And I started to hate myself.

Every revision became an ordeal. Every comment, no matter how nicely delivered, gave reasons for the voices in my head to start whispering awful stuff. Everyday, I carry this weight as heavy as the machines this project was about. I lost the passion for it and the drive to help my client. I was making the revisions with the mindset of wanting to finish it. Not wanting to create a fulfilling output. As much as I hated to admit it, I stopped caring.

And that’s when I started to see a light at end of the tunnel. It was just a tiny speck but I can feel it was out there. You know how when you’ve been on a really long trip on a bus or a car and you suddenly feel that you’re almost at your destination? And there’s this excitement in the air and people start to sit up straight. And they crane their necks and they press their noses on the windows. It was as if the energy came back to the same level it was at the start of the journey.

It was on that penultimate moment that I started to pick myself up and the voices started to fade. The excitement I felt was back as if the whole revisions and frustrations never happened. I got focused on fixing it and I was even making extra effort in making it better. Of course there were still a few mishaps along the way, but it didn’t bother me anymore. because I knew where the project was going.

And I did it.

The moment my boss gave the thumbs-up for the final render, I LITERALLY dropped and rolled on the floor because the euphoric feeling was too much for me to contain. Of course, I didn’t actually do it in front of him, I still had to go back to my seat and stuff.

And that was it. It was a roller-coaster of emotions before I got here. And I am left with nothing but feeling of gratitude for the whole experience. And I’m looking forward to more projects. Even the dreadful emotions that come along with it.

Where Is That Second Star To The Right?

I don’t know how many attempts I’ve had in making a single entry about what’s been going on with my life. And you have no idea how long this entry has been left on the draft section waiting to get posted. It’s shouldn’t even be that hard because there’s a LOT of things that is in need of telling.

But the drastic inability to convert experiences and thoughts into words has been terrifying me. Along with that, my loss in interest in reading and my passion for sketching.

I am starting to feel frustrated. I keep telling myself that maybe I should give myself a break. I mean, I just got out of school and that I should have fun and stuff or maybe this is all just a phase and that I had to give myself some time to get my mind off things. I mean, I’m still on the adjustment period because of having an actual job and all and that changed my daily routines entirely.

It does take most of my time considering I would often leave the house at 8 am and come home at 10 in the evening from Mondays to Fridays. And on weekends, well, I haven’t had a day off on a weekend because I’ve been going to places a lot in which you won’t know about because I haven’t been talking about them.

But then again what if it’s not just a phase? What if this is the driveless, bookless and dull life that I will have until I grow old and wither away? Is this how you become an adult? That you will have other stuff to think about? And that you will have no time doing the things that you promised to yourself to never stop doing for the rest of your life.

But I’ve known adults who still find time for things outside their jobs that they actually love. And they do it flawlessly. And I wish I could do that too. Because I still want to keep enjoying books and drawing in my free time.

And I want to keep writing for the rest of my life because I don’t want to forget when I tell stories. When I grow old, I want to be the one who lives to tell the stories of my youth. And when I die, I still want to be the one who tells the stories of my youth. And I can only do that by writing about it.

It sounds a bit ambitious because who is ever sure of their future? I mean, who is ever that constant that after periods of experiences in their lives, they still think and want and believe on the same things.

How do you fuel your life with excitement for the things you love? How do you keep interested? Curious? Obsessed? How do you do this when you have priorities set?

Adult in training is horrible.

Friends My Balls

I would consider the film 500 Days of Summer as one of the most important films that happened in my life. It has influenced the many decisions I had to make and its awesome soundtrack has kept me company through the best and worst days. Through this film, I was able to have a good look on my character development because of the different insights I have every time I decide to rewatch it.

I started off as someone who has an apathetic treatment towards the film as whole–not really paying attention to the details like the cinematography, the OST and even the message of the story (though I was deeply affected by how Tom and Summer’s relationship ended, but that was that.) That was back when I was in high school didn’t know how films are more than means of entertainment.

Then there came a point when I became so madly hateful towards Summer because that was the time when I realized she was the one who broke them up. And I hated how she strongly disregarded the intimacy of their relationship and declared that it was friendship and air that is between them and nothing more. I despised her more for being unfair to Tom by keeping the feelings constantly high but not committing to it. And her hypocrisy for ending up being married to some random guy.

I did learn to notice and appreciate the soundtrack and the cinematography, though.

And then, Summer Camp 2015 came. I was an incoming senior and I’ve had enough experience with making film analysis with my friends that when I decided to watch it again, I had another point of view.

This time, I realized it wasn’t Summer’s fault entirely. It’s true that her character suddenly became bland and off and it was a really dick move to make Tom feel it’s real when it wasn’t but I think the film didn’t really show the side of Summer. It kinda only gave small hints on how she really felt and they did a really awful job on it. Or maybe, they didn’t intend to show her side.

But when Summer said something about how she woke up one morning and knew what she was never sure of with Tom, I realized feelings can change. No matter how much the relationship is built throughout the time of being with someone, it can go down in just one single shift of thought or feeling or point of view. And you can’t force yourself to continuously pretend that everything is the same because it’s gonna hurt the both of you more.

Also, what if the other guy was actually better than Tom and that Summer was a lot happier spending time with him? Or that there is something in Tom’s personality that Summer couldn’t stand and so she wanted to get out? But I guess we’ll never know because the film is about Tom and so we sympathize only to his character and see things in his point of view.

Right now, this is what I think of 500 Days of Summer. In addition to that, this film has became too relatable not only to my friends but also to myself. The weight of how much it is parallel to our own stories made it possible to drink on it while watching (which happened two nights ago when everyone felt shitty and decided to ignore the senior production for a moment and just talk about feelings).

It may change in time. I might look back on this someday and might feel differently but I guess that how it is and that’s how it’s gonna be.

Walk, walk fashion baby. Work it. Move that bitch crazy

It was unnerving spending your entire day literally from the moment you wake up until the moment you lie down on that sleeping bag in the same air-conditioned and UV radiated environment where people just sit and work all day. And conversations were minimal because of earphones plugged in our ears and the deadline hovered over our heads.

I couldn’t stand staying in that place for a long time. And I desperately need breaks away from that computer. Away from that lab. Away from that building. Away from that institution. I’m not saying that I hated the work because I loved it. I’m not even complaining about our work area because it’s well-ventilated enough against the summer heat and we have everything we needed there. It’s just that sometimes being that still for the longest time kinda drains my energy and it might affect my future work progress.

So every 6pm – 7pm ( because that’s the ideal break hours), I’d go out and walk around the city. I avoid inviting people because I kinda wanted to do it alone. I mean, walking at that precise time and place is perfect for solitude. Well, even if I did invited people, I don’t think they’d want to spend the remaining amount of time sweating and tiring yourself around the dirty and noisy streets instead of working to meet the deadline.

I love walking. Especially in urban streets. I guess, when you walk around a city, you don’t really realize how far your walk would be and that makes it less tiring. Everyday, even if you pass the same route, it always feels different. To be honest, I don’t really roam around to observe. I just walk to give myself time to reflect. And with walking, I can pretend I’m actually going someplace important but really I’m just thinking about my life. Because if you stay still and stare blankly into space you’d look like a total nutcase. Also, I cannot afford going to thinking places like coffee shops or restaurants.

It feels even better when you have your music plugged in. It’s a way to avoid awkwardness with yourself and having random conversations with the people you come across with. Now that I’ve mention it, I think its about time that I should start writing about my music these days since a lot of people recommended new artists and it kinda changed my perspective on things.

Being A Mother To My Babies

I have been very busy with school these past few days and despite that I’m trying really hard not to break the chain. I’ve been encouraging myself to read more because I realized, for the past year,  I haven’t been reading enough. Personally, I feel bad about it because sometimes I think that reading becomes a responsibility once you started to get really interested in books and when | start to come up with excuses just so I could do other stuff that are more convenient than reading (internet, watching movies, hanging out with friends), a voice speaks in my mind telling me, “You had one job.”

Yes, I had one job and I sort of blew it. And I somehow feel guilty because reading is something that I want to want to do. Let me explain further. I’m not much of a reader. I don’t center my life to just the habit of reading. I don’t read all the books I buy. Heavens, no, but I do keep books even if I haven’t read it.  I used to hate myself for that. But then again, one of the worst feelings in world is forcing yourself to read something when you’re not really in mood to. Also, it’s okay to not want to read and it’s okay if you prefer the movie than the book. I feel bad for some people who are not really into reading and they get to be judged because of that.

I am obsessed in arranging them in shelves and admiring them afterwards. And I feel the emptiness whenever I let other people borrow my books even if I trust those people with all my heart. I feel like I’m the mother of these things and I feel very protective over them and I am lost without them.

Night Time, My Time

I’ve always loved going out at night in a place where there’s not much people roaming around. And everything is quiet and cold. Especially in those moments where you just went through a lot of stress and that night was the only chance you have for peace and relaxation. I’ve been into that kind of night thrice.

The first one was when I was in a friend’s house and we were hanging out on the rooftop at 2 am and just staring at the starless night sky with Lana del Rey singing in the background. That was the night I was convinced of Lana’s beautiful voice. We were all a little bit drunk so it was the perfect time to lie down and just enjoy the silence of mild headaches and bloated tummies.

The second one happened the night before the deadline for the final requirement and we were all in my friends house because we needed each other’s support. And when one of us had to go (it was past 12 midnight), two of us pestered to tag along. So there were four of us (1 driver, 1 passenger and 2 stowaways – all in one motorcycle). It was a painful ride since the average number of people acceptable in a motorcycle ride are probably 2. Also, it was a bit dangerous and we were cautious of the presence of police officers. But man, that ride was fucking awesome. The wind was sweeping past my face and we were all laughing and joking around. And at that moment I knew what Charlie from The Perks of Being A Wallflower felt when he said “And in that moment, I swear we were infinite,”. I finally understood what that infinity meant.

And the third night just happened last night. How lucky I was to have the privilege of experiencing that kind of night last night. I was wondering where I might crash because our group meeting was cancelled and I had nowhere else to go. That time, my friend was texting me and sharing insights about her life and how she felt awful for being so distant for the past semester. I gave her some advice and told her that she should always make the most of it for the people around her even if it’s just for a short while and not think of any other day for her to spend time with that person. I told her that she should always take that chance before they separate again and god knows when will she be able to see them again.

And at that very moment, a pang of guilt swept over me because of my hypocrisy. What right do I even have to talk about these stuff when I myself can be an apathetic asshole. There are moments when it takes a great deal of effort to reach out to a person that you have been too distant with for the longest time that the option you choose is the easier one, which is, getting used to the idea of you both slowly fading away in each other’s lives until you just become strangers.

And right now, I think it’s time to try out the option where I actually do something. And so I grabbed my stuff and headed to her place with no plans, no back-ups, just the queer determination to prove to myself that I can actually care.

We ended up hanging out someplace quiet in their subdivision and just to talk and catch-up.

ketchup.

okay, that ruined things. bye.