I'm Finally Writing Again!

It's fiction, but this is a little different. I am writing and drawing a comic strip. I put the first strip below, but check out the website for updated comics: 

BILLY & V24. 

It's a comic about a boy and his robot.

Click on it to make it bigger!

Antigua | A Poem

Roads that resemble the ruins all around you Exterior walls that span entire blocks, Hiding tiny tiendas and expansive restaurants A market overflowing with delicious produce, Substancial sacks of spices, Totally authentic Nike sneakers, And handmade treasures All for “a special price just for you, almost free” Cars, trucks, tuks tuks, and motos Serving and stopping and parking anywhere they please With a push of a button the flashers come on And the entire lane of the street Becomes your very own private parking spot Buses retired from hauling kids to and from school, Become ex-pats with fresh paint jobs, Kings of the calle, Brilliant colors barreling down the road, Horn blazing with religious AND racy stickers Slapped next to each other on the back Get off quick because Esmeralda doesn’t stop to let you off, She just keeps rolling ever on So the next time you think the street is too narrow To accommodate cars traversing in both directions, Watch as the chicken buses choke up the road And somehow keep continuing on

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This is a poem I wrote about the city I have lived in for 9 months now. Antigua, Guatemala. I'll explain some things in the poem because if you've never been to Antigua it won't make much sense. Antigua is a world heritage site so inside the city the roads are still cobblestone and must remain so. They look cool but make for one heck of a bumpy and slow ride. A "tienda" is a small convenience store where you can buy the same kinds of things found in a gas station mini mart in the states. A tuk tuk is like a tiny taxi that can take a few people at a time around the city. It's pretty much a motorcycle with a covered bench behind it. Everyone in Antigua parks in the road when they have a quick errand to run inside of a store because there is no-where else to park if you just need to stop in real quick. So you just put your flashers on and everyone drives around you. There is just barely enough room, and many a side mirror gets smacked. People drive American school buses from the states down here, paint them with bright colors and name them. They're everywhere and they choke up the already narrow streets. It is crazy. It's a beautiful city. I hope I've captured just a little of what it is like.

Computer Use | A Memoir Essay

The first time I can remember using a personal computer, was in kindergarten. I was at my friend Austin's house, and he had a Macintosh. This was 1988, so it was something like a Macintosh classic. The computer had a rectangular shape, with the monitor mounted inside the casing; and it was all in that single rectangular unit. 

His monitor only displayed in black and white. I recall how incredible I thought it was that he could remember all the names of the folders he had to open to get to the game we wanted to play. The program we opened was a downhill skiing game. We probably only had to click on the hard drive, applications, the game's folder, and then the game icon; but to me that was a lot to recollect just to play a game.

Some years later, around fourth grade or so, my dad bought an IBM with windows 3.0. At the time this computer was top of the line; it even had a cd rom drive! I messed around on that bad boy a lot, and pretty soon I was quite good at getting around on it. I was even well acquainted with dos. My sixth grade year we picked up a computer with windows 95 on it. I dove straight into that operating system. This was also the same year that I took a typing class in school. In the class there were no letters on the keys, so you had to learn. You would follow the diagrams on the screen and go through the programs, learning where to put your hands and where all the keys were. This helped my typing skills tremendously. Now instead of using one finger to find each key, I could type quickly and easily without having to look at the keyboard. This was a big developmental step in my computing skills.

I also remember for the first time using Ctrl + C to copy, and Ctrl + V to paste. We sometimes would have to type the same paragraph several times for our class work. It was funny, the Ctrl keys had been fixed so you shouldn't have been able to use them, but if you pushed very hard on them they would click. So my friends and I would only type the paragraph once and then copy and paste it as many times as were required. I remember being in awe of these shortcut keys. I had no idea you could press certain keys together on the keyboard, or even that you could copy and paste. I was excited and amazed about this on only simple computers with only a black screen and a green display of text. I liked computers at an early age. Writing this I find it funny that I can look back and remember being amazed at green letters on a black screen; and now I'm going into the 3D computer industry as a career. I now produce 3D graphics that were unthinkable back when I was in sixth grade learning to type. It is something to think about.

During high school my family picked up a Compaq Presario, with Windows 98 and a Pentium I processor. I had fun with that. They now have a Sony Vio with Windows XP. It always has problems with spyware and is very difficult to use for navigating the internet even with a cable modem. It gets slowed down and constantly has pop-ups. I even have my own computer now with an amazing graphics card that helps the 3D programs I use run smoothly. As a little boy I never could have dreamed of having my own computer.

For pc use, that is all of my list; but it's not where my computer career ended. The first time I was able to use a Macintosh again, since kindergarten, was my freshman year when I took a sixth period creative writing class. Many times we would use the computer lab, and after class two buddies and I would stay and teach ourselves HyperCard on the school's Macs. I thought that program was awesome, and I was finally learning how to use a Mac.

My senior year I took a class called Technical Navigation. In this class we learned, with iMacs and G3s, how to use Adobe Pagemill, Photoshop, and Illustrator; along with some Power Point. I was able to learn all the shortcuts and nuances of the Macintosh operating system. Now when I wanted to close a window, open a new document, or save, I just had to press "apple" and then w, o, or s. I then learned that these same shortcut keys existed in my pc.

My navigational skills at that time became much faster than before. I think that using the shortcut keys also forced me to have more of an awareness of what I was doing while navigating on the screen. Rather than looking at the menu bar and it's following pull down, thinking about it and having all my available options right in front of me, I had to know exactly what I wanted to do. I had to push the one button on the keyboard that I knew would carry out the command I wanted it to. I hope to learn exponentially, and become better and better at using computers in the future.

These same shortcut key skills have carried over greatly into the programs I use for school and what I will use in the 3D industry. In every video editing or photo manipulating or 3D software I have used, I've found that learning and using as many shortcut keys as I can greatly increases my efficiency and speed. Also, I can get rid of several menus that appear above, below, and on the sides of the screen. This gives me more work area on the screen; more real estate. By using shortcuts I can work faster than someone else, and have more space to work with for my eyes. It's a win win situation.

One thing that I really like about working on computers is how fast time goes by when working on them. I can sit down and 3D model for hours. 3D modeling is making or constructing objects in 3D space on the computer. It is similar to sculpting in real life, but instead of moving clay around to form shapes resembling things, you move around points in 3D space. These points connect with each other to form surfaces.

I have sometimes gone without eating a meal because I simply forget or don't realize I am hungry for several hours because I will get so enthralled in what I am working on. I have even skipped both lunch and dinner a few times, which is even for me hard to believe, because of work on the computer. When I work at the labs in the North campus the security guard will poke his head in the door and tell me it will soon be time to leave. That is when I will realize that it's almost 11:30, and time to go. It is during these times that I just don't know where the time has gone. This is something I am happy about, because I will be doing it for a living someday.

In the video game industry, which I hope to get into, you hear of projects nearing there deadlines and employees getting asked to work crazy hours; staying very late to get the work done. This is something I already do at times. I would much rather have a job with longer hours which went by quickly than a job with only 40 hours a week in which each hour of every day seemed to drag by.

If we did not have computers today of coarse the world would be ok, as it always has been with out computers. But now that I work on them so much I find it hard to imagine a world without computers. I see them everywhere and in several different things being used for several different applications. For storing data alone, if that were their only purpose; even then they would be incredibly useful. This is because in one small computer you can store a warehouse full of information. They also make that information extremely easy to navigate through and find specifics with.

To think that now some actors have a computer generated model doing their stunt scenes for them in movies is amazing. I love computers, and I also love art and storytelling. I hope to use computers for these two things. Making art and telling stories in a highly visual way. I can only imagine what the future holds for the level of realism a computer will be able to generate; considering where we are right now. But I hope that there will always be someone out there not always trying to make it look perfectly real, but instead goofy and/or artistic.

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This was an assignment for my creative writing class at the Art Institute of Seattle. I probably wrote it around 2004. It's really interesting to read it now. I'm pretty sure I thought we were at the cutting edge of where technology could go, and now to get these words into this blog post I took a picture of them with my phone from a printed page, which I was then able to copy the text from the photo and paste it into a document. I still had to fix the formatting, but still it's crazy how technology has continued to develop.

An Unfamiliar Room | A Poem

Soft voices.

At least those who know each other.

Everyone else,

Sitting, waiting.

Wondering.

Wishing for prognostication.

Sitting in a seat they weren't sure of picking

But chose in haste to get the attention off of them.

Chosen in haste to get the seating eyes of

Unfamiliar faces from scolding their comfort bubble until it bursts.

Sitting down to a small smooth desk that they can call their own.

For the next four hours

They will look at its scratches and drawings.

Their own small space of individuality

Clothing them from the rest of the class.

The rough rustling of a back pack,

The sweet sound of someone sipping coffee.

Tall decaf double shot non fat raspberry mocha latte,

Iced.

Eyes searching plain white walls while

A few coughs echo off their banal surfaces.

The calm steps of the teacher as he walks

To give his welcome to the class.

He hides his anxiety he shares with his students well.

Eleven weeks will soon pass;

And this now familiar room, these now familiar faces,

Will surprisingly be missed.

---

This is a poem I wrote for a creative writing class while attending the Art Institute of Seattle earning my BFA in Animation and Media Arts. I probably wrote it around 2004 as a 21 year old. We had classes once a week for four hours, and each quarter was eleven weeks long. In that time I always was amazed at how a group of strangers had become a familiar class I would miss.

Coffee Coffee | A Poem

Coffee.

Coffee.

I like coffee. I like drinking coffee.
I like drinking coffee in the cool hours
Of the night while drawing, doing homework, or driving.
I like to drink coffee.

I don't mean fancy coffee.
Just cream
and sugar.
Coffee of the kitchen countertop.

No espresso stand or coffee carte;
Whipping up something special.
I'm talking a big, red, metal can
Of Folgers in your cup-board.

The best part of waking up
Is Folgers in your cup.

The best part of staying up
Is Folgers in your cup.

Getting coffee at a Shari's IHOP, or Denny's
Two in the morning with Folgers in your cup.
The feel of the silver spoon
Hitting the white sides of a porcelain cup.
I can hear the sound it makes. Ting ting.

Stirring in the cream and sugar.
I can see the cream swirling in black until
It fades to a creamy tan.

I like to shake the little sugar packets and listen
To the small grains shift to the back of the pack
As the paper goes crinkle crinkle, crinkle crinkle;
Much faster than I can say crinkle.

Crinkle.

To hear the sound of coffee being poured
Is a treasure to the ears.

Its euphony brings a sliver of energy soon to be delivered
On that first taste; after you
Set the spoon down on your napkin and
See it creep brown slowly.

Slowly across white fibers textured in pattern.
First sips travel and coat your textured stomach
Similarly.

Your eyes seem to open just that much more.
You first start to notice the haze around you as a restaurant.
That big bright pillow you fell onto is a
Booth now sturdy and stiff.

You sit at your table and mix the cream
And stir the sugar.

You forget about getting here at midnight.

The lights are on, everyone is awake

Conversing as if it were midday.

You continue working on your midterm or your final,
Or maybe just your sketchbook drawing, and
Before you know it, almost everyone else is gone.

No one is talking anymore, there is much less noise.
You look down to see that a myriad of
Sugar packets have been shook, poured, and stirred.

You peer back to the door you drowsily entered and see that
There is light outside. A new day has started without you and
Here you are without memory of night passing.

But,

Your midterm is minutes from completion and all you
Have to do is make it to that one class and turn it in.
You can then go back home and have your night,
But it will cost you the day.

However, when you wake up,
There is always coffee.

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This is a poem I wrote for a creative writing class while attending the Art Institute of Seattle. I probably wrote it around 2004 as a 21 year old. As I write this, that was 18 years ago but in some ways it feels like only a few. Crazy how time flies.