Sunday, December 30, 2007

Medusa

Hey all, I have been working today on my next submission to the conceptart.org competition for character of the week. This one is sort of special because it is the #100, and it is supposed to be the "queen" of the character section.
The theme was Medusa, and it's supposed to be our interpretation of the greek myth character as a queen. So, here is my work in progress. When I am done I will post it in the concept section of my website, so keep an eye out.

Friday, December 28, 2007

BLOG revamped

I finally got my butt in gear and revamped my sad little blog.
It was looking pretty bedraggled and pathetic, so I changed the template, cleaned things up, resized images, made myself a snazzy title bar, and added links to my friend's websites or blogs. My friends are cool people so check them out. HA!
I also changed the front page of my website; nothing significant, just me being obsessive; oh, and I had forgotten to mention that the Herald is done and it was posted under the personal section of concept art on my website.
Good news also, I will soon begin working as a full-time concept artist for NCSoft Norcal, their new studio that will continue working on the City of Heroes IP. I am so excited because it's a small team, they are all awesome people, and the project is exciting in its variety and possibilities. Happy New Year! Finally it seems things are back on track, and I couldn't be happier.
Things I am hoping to accomplish this upcoming year: getting rid of my debt, eating better, and I might have to start saving for a car. Sadly the green spell will more than likely end with my job being far away and the two hour commute by train seeming a daunting prospect. I still plan to get something small and economical, but I am sad to even have to think of getting a car, after almost four years of not having one. Oh well.

Friday, December 14, 2007

Shoes

So yesterday Photoshop gave me the dreaded message: "scratch disks have run out of the mercy of god". So I am waiting for UPS to deliver my external hard drive so I can back up the crap out of my life. And I stumbled upon these three poems that I wrote in my English class a long time ago while attending the Academy. I had completely forgotten about them, but now I am thinking I might resuscitate them by adding some illustrations to them. I remember when the teacher announced there would be three weeks of poetry as part of the English class, and I remember groaning inwardly and thinking how much I hate poetry and poets and the pretentiousness of it all. So while my classmates wrote about worthier subjects like love, hate, pain, childhood; I wrote about my shoes, because that's what I was looking at most during that class.
So here they are, three poems about shoes:

Chucks

I accidentally spilled bleach on your zebra face
but you just stood by my feet
bearing the stoic mark of practicality,
pliable but strong, original but standard.
Your tapered white nose
irreverently peering out of a denim blue river;
a couple submarines, two projectiles,
two little sharks,
traveling in a sea of asphalt, patent
leather and croc,
fearlessly tackling paint and road
like a warrior, like atlas carrying the world
held together by duck-tape and god.
I spilled bleach on your face and you wear it like a badge,
and throughout all the seasons, and all the fads,
You kept my feet on the ground.

Boots

they peek to the beat
of a soldier's chant
fashion forward
red turns the light
I stop to see green
down below;
Italy stands,
parallel twins,
sculptures in leather,
on wooden pillars,
my ticking tools,
my stature spools,
a perch from the runs
of pluvial San Francisco,
made for walking,
never balking
comforting carriage
for tired brothers,
never demand
a well-earned rest.
Trusty companions,
I bow down to you
and let you be still
for a minute,
my favorite boots.

Spikes

From their pedestal point
two patent clad thrones
whisper beguiling:
"your top is too low,
the bottom too big
the outfit so so".
With sensual persuasion
they tempt me to ride
they promise to match
whatever the stride,
to hold back the sting,
to soften the spike.
From their calculations
the distance is short,
the weather is right
to waive the support.
Their murderous depths
their tethering hold
lay my step by the heels
as I vow
to never again bear such foes.