I’m learning Illustrator this semester. Its my new favorite program. I like it even better than Photoshop.
I’m very proud of my last homework assignment.
For those unfamiliar with Illustrator, each one of the shapes of colour in the image below were individually drawn out.
Well, gotta run off to school, no more time for this blog.
I never came close to having enough time to let go of the handle bars and put my hands out. All my weight and momentum came to a halt on left side of my face.
Country Boy
As you may have gathered from reading my previous blog I had quite the innocent childhood sheltered from the the outside world. Completely vegetarian, always eating natural foods, learning the importance of hard work by having to help mom in the garden and dad get firewood. By the time I was eight I could drive a stick shift, run a chainsaw and fell a tree. Not having TV I hardly spent time indoors and was extremely active. A little too active for my mothers liking. It seemed like almost everyday I was coming home with new injuries. I won’t bore you with woeful tales of all my injuries except for my favorite one.
The Cyclist
I learned to ride a bicycle when I was four and from then on till I was 16 I bike constantly. Yes even in the snow, slush, and mud. I put on so many miles and wore out so many tires. My backyard was a valley 12 kms long.
When I was about 12 I got bored of my regular old bike and decided to build a new one from scraps of other non-functioning abandoned bikes. I chose a seat from one, cool handle bars from another, a back tire here, a front tire there… you get the picture.
Road Rash
One day with my newly assembled bike I was racing down a hill like any other day trying to go a fast a possible in order to hit that bump at the bottom and get as much air as possible. This was a daily routine on way to a friends house. I guess I didn’t tighten my front wheel very well. I don’t even remember hitting the ground. I have a fuzzy vision of sitting up, feeling nauseous and seeing my front tire rolling independantly down the road ahead of me.
Apparently when I hit the jump, my front wheel disengaged from my bike. When the front forks hit the ground I went over the handle bars so fast that I never came close to having enough time to let go of the handle bars and put my hands out. All my weight and momentum came to a halt on left side of my face.
I forgot to mention that this was a gravel road, not that this would have been any better if it had been paved but it wouldn’t have taken so long for the nurses to pick all the rocks out of my face.
For those who know me, you may take a closer look at my face next time you see me, but luckily my face is unscarred. It’s quit a miracle why I didn’t scar but I’m getting ahead of myself, I’ll tell you why in a minute.
I was extremely luck that some people had been near by and seen my unceremonious dismount because in my valley you could go for kilometers with out seeing a soul.
They told me later that I was walking and talking quite normally, but I remember none of it. I have a vague recollection of climbing into a pick up truck but really nothing else until I was laying on my bed with my little brother looking at me with amazingly wide eyes. I must have look pretty frightening.
Next thing I know I’m driving into town with my mother. The nearest hospital was half hour away.
This is when I really freaked her out. The day before I had just gotten a Gameboy which I had was so excited about. In my injured state, I suddenly started to wonder if the attainment of the Gameboy had just been a dream. So I asked my mother “Did I just get a Gameboy thing yesterday?”
“Yes” she replied.
“Oh good.”
Five minutes later.
“Mom, did I get a Game thing yesterday?
“Yes, you just asked me that.”
“Oh, good”
A few minutes later, I asked her the same thing again. She was getting quite alarmed now, probably thinking I had brain damage for life.
It was recommended that I stay in the hospital overnight but I wanted to go home. I was permitted to do so under the condition that my mother would wake me up every hour and ask me my name. As you can imagine, by 3am that got pretty annoying.
The next day some of my friends came to visit, they said I looked like Two Face – you know, “Battman Forever” – I thought that was cool.
No Scars?
Here’s the best part. A week and a half later my family took their annual trip to visit my Grandmother in Edmonton. Highlight of the year, and I wasn’t going to let my damaged face slow me down. Like every year we went to the West Edmonton Mall wave pool.
Do you know what happens to scabs when they get wet? Thats right, they get soft and fall off. By the end of that day my face was all rosey pink and scab free.
No of my family wanted to go back in the pool, I wonder why?
I recently found out that is probably the reason I don’t have any scarring. Not sure how accurate this information is but someone told me that if you get a scab wet and remove it before it is quite ready, it won’t leave a scar like it will if you just leave to fall off..
Sorry, no photos to accompany this blog. Can you believe no one took a picture when my face was messed up?
I was terrified of coming to Vancouver after growing up in a town of 1500 people with one stop light and a graduating class of 30. Actually that was the town 1/2 an hour away from where I lived.
THE SIMPLE LIFE
The community I spent my childhood in had none of the following:
• electricity
• paved roads
• TV
• running water (in the winter)
• indoor toilets (till I was about 10)
• fences (except for the ones to keep the deer out of the vegetable patch)
• locked doors
• strangers
• concrete
• bullies
I was also lucky enough to have no parental disouragement of ideas, interest, creation, ambition, or possibility.
What it did offer, was an opportunity for me to grow naturely like the fields and forests surrounding the cottage atop a hill overlooking a lake that my father built single handedly.
MOVIES
Having no TV made watching a movie a special occasion. It meant going outside to start a generator a smelly gerator which usually needed to be filled with gas and occasionally didn’t want start (winter). This was a big deal because it also meant that while the power was on a number of chores like laundry, cloth-mending, grinding flower, and perhaps some wood work requiring power tools, had to be done by the family.
So with movies being such a rariety I treasured my time watching them probably a little more than most. You could almost say I became addicted. I Started organizing my time with certain friends depending on when their family would watch a movie. Some families watched much better movies than other. Or perhaps I should say much worse movies, some families did not censor the movies their children watch and much as other. My mother was definately the strictest of the bunch. I don’t know why she though she could protect me from the world. Eventually I would learn about violence, sex, greed, evil, etc etc. You know, all the bad stuff in the world.
RUNNING AWAY?
Maybe thats why my parents moved as far away from civilization as they could, because the world scared my mother so much. I say my mother and not my parents because my father is a much more positive person and I’m sure he thinks this world is a beautiful place. My mother always seemed so negative and contstantly worried about everything and she berate me with all her fears, I guess to make sure that I never fell prey to any of them.
LEARNING LIFE
I learned about the big bad world dispite her efforts, through film. All the mysterious, perilious evils completely enthralled me. Somewhere along my cinematic childhood journey I decided I needed to make films. I needed figure out and learn how they were made and then find away to do them myself. I don’t know why. Perhaps I wasn’t satisfied with the films I’d seen and wanted to do better. Still do.
DONT THINK TOO MUCH AND IF YOU MUST, THINK OUTSIDE THE BOTTLE.
I think too much. I set very high expectations for my self and then stress out and work myself into the ground trying to meet them. When I don’t meet the expectations I’ve set I tend to be very hard on myself. I dwell on the few things that I haven’t done, and even the things I have done but not done as well as I would have liked and get myself really down. I should just think about all the things I have accomplished and feel good about myself but for some reason the little shortcomings nag me to no end.
BEAUTY RESULTS FROM PAIN
It not all bad though. I recently realized that many positive things come from my times of unhappiness and self-criticism. I seem to become highly creative during these times and often without intending to get wonderful inspirations and produce all sorts of interesting and beautiful things in form of photos, film, paintings, music, and poems/songs.
INSIDE THE BOTTLE
This is a recent series of photos that I was inspired to take while my mind was rampaging with self doubt and my eyes came to rest inside the nearly empty beer bottle in hand. The warped reflections of light shining through the brown glass looked amazing and I realized what an amazing photo it would make.
I find these images very calming and soothing to look at. It probably has to do with the memories they bring back because the very same night I took these photos I was lucky enough sit down at the bar beside a very knowledgeable and insightful man who told me some things that have eased my restless mind a great deal.
WORDS OF WISDOM
Aekare (a-car-ay) explained to me how we don’t become adults until right around the age of 28. At that point the body stops growing and a certain chemical is released into the brain that gives you a new perspective on life. Up until 28 we are still trying to figure out who we are and are trying to define our personalities. Once we hit 28 and get a new perspective on life we accept who we are and spend the next 10 years exploring and learning about our newly defined selves.
I am not certain of the credibility of this information but it works for me. Its nice to have some sort of explanation and reassurance that what is happening in my head is a normal growing process that we all go through.
HOW DO YOU DETERMINE THE VALUE OF AN IMAGE?
FATHER & SON
PRECIOUS MOMENT
I love this sequence of photos. Of course it means a lot to me because its my father and brother, but I think even somone who is a stranger to these people would find this very interesting and heart warming. It tells a heart warming little story of a beautiful moment between a father and a son. First they appear to be observing something, then discussing it, pondering it, and finally having a laugh about it.
WHAT ARE THEY TALKING ABOUT?
They were actually talking to my mother – just of camera – while I was setting up my camera for a little family photo shoot. Before they were aware that I was ready, I snapped off a couple photos and am so happy I did. I treasure these images so much so much more than the ones they actually posed for.
Back to the topic, the subject of their discussion. I can’t remember exactly, but I know they were talking about India.
You may have noticed the white cloth bag hanging from my bothers neck. A little odd? This is part of a religious practice. It contains a string of special wooden beads that my brother uses to focus his concentration while he meditates and recites prayers to god. He is only 15 (13 in the photo). Crazy! I know! There is more. He and my mother currently live in India and have since 2002 when my parents broke up. In that time he has become fluent in 3 languages. Bengali, Hindi, and Sanskrit. Sanskrit being one of the oldest and most intricatly advanced of languages. I recently learned that my brother is now in charge of translating an entire volume of Sanskrit literature into English.
My Father and I rarely get to see my mother and brother. The last time was 2 years ago. It’s quite sad for both of us. I feel like I don’t know my brother anymore and regret that I haven’t contributed to his growth and learning like a big brother should.
I’m sure you now understand the value these photos hold for me, and you can probably agree that there is no measure of value for images like these.
PUSHING THE LIMITS
I wonder if everyone has reached that point of complete physical and mental exhaustion where your body literally starts shutting down. The point where even the strongest concentration of will power won’t move your limbs the way that you want them to. Is this a normal thing people do? Isn’t the population getting less and less sleep on average? Why do we push and push ourselves way beyond the safe limits of our capabilities when all the signs are telling us to stop. Haven’t studies shown that lack of sleep is equivalent to being drunk. It’s unhealthy, its unsafe and yet people do it all the time.
I’m guilty. I regret it. It was reckless and irresponsible, yet I did it numerous times, and accidents did happen. Luckily for me, no serious repercussions. But I know others who haven’t been so lucky.
HOLLYWOOD (not so cool)
The film industry is a major villain. It constantly puts inhumane demands on the highly competitive and ambitious people who work within it. Many burnt out and completely change professions, many turn to cocaine and other drugs and keep on going, and only a very few make it to the top to be directors and producer, which is what most people on a set are dreaming of.
In 2005 I worked an average of 130 hours a week and after commuting time I averaged about 25 hrs of sleep a week. How much sleep does the average person get every week? I’ll guess 50 hrs. Are the days of the 40hr work week over? I think so alot of people work an average of 50hrs a week. Thats a good balance of work to sleep 50/50, not like 130/25. Film work is not like its sitting at a computer either, its very demanding physical work on your feet often carrying heavy equipment in very awkward locations.
TV Commercial are often the worst. They are so rushed. I remember one commercial, working a 22 hours day, getting 3 hrs of sleep, then working a 23 hour day, getting 2 hours sleep and then doing another 20 plus hour day. By the end of that third day I was so exhausted I felt like I was drunk on too much tequila. I ended up crashing a car. No serious injury to myself or anyone else but it was definitely a wake up call.
Are people ever going to learn to slow down or are we going to run ourselves in to the ground. I’m trying, but as I’m sure most of you know its a lot of work to carry on a balanced life style.
DRAINED
This photo was taken after one of those extremely grueling days on a film crew. I forced myself into the shower instead of collapsing in bed like I wanted to but I didn’t have the strength to stand. I just crumpled in the bottom of the tub and let the shower pour over me until the hot water ran out. Even after I roused the strength to turn the water off and I was sitting shivering in the tub I couldn’t bring myself to get out. A sudden inspiration for a photo gave me the motivation to get out of the tub, get my camera and get back in the tub to take it. Its a strange photo I know, but it really captures how I felt then. You may notice the image is strangely warped. I altered it a bit in Photoshop.
New Home
Welcome to my shiny new home. More visually appealing, more options, more user friendly than my old place, myspace. Maybe not as much traffic as myspace, but thats good, no one likes too many guests.
Favorite Close Ups
Last week I said I would show some of my favorite extreme close up photos and so I went looking for them. I realized I don’t really have that many. I don’t have a long enough lens to get good close ups. If I get too close to an object with my lens (18-55mm) I can’t keep it in focus.
Got my fingers crossed for Christmas. Love you Dad!
Smokers Fingers
Look at this womans fingers. Nice nails, probably fake, but look how old and wrinkled her fingers are.
Lisette
This woman belongs to those fingers. She’s not even 30!
I forgot to ask her her why (like I would) her fingers look like that. Is it from smoking I wonder? Or am just being quick to blame smoking because I’m a biased non-smoker and really its from something like washing dishes? Probably.
Do you think this could be an anti smoking ad? Maybe I should get into advertising. Maybe someday I’ll get good enough to get big advertising contracts. Wouldn’t that would be nice. Don’t worry I’m not counting on it. Thats why I’m in the New Media Program at the BCIT (British Columbia Institute of Technology.
I feel like my knowledge of photography has suffered because of the digital revolution. I never really understood the traditional photography before I jumped right into digital. When I studied film in New York and learned about cinematography, I definitely gained the theoretical knowledge, but even now that I understand what f-stop, film speed, and shutter speed is, I never really practice how to read the light and apply the appropriate camera settings manually because I always use a digital camera. Even though I tried to find the most manual digital camera, my Canon Rebel still has so many automated functions that I can’t over-ride.
