Crash

Mon, 20 Feb 2006 20:03:26 GMT

I've changed my LJ account. This account will be deleted on Friday. The new account is CrashKincaide.
That is all.
For now.

Sat, 18 Feb 2006 03:36:31 GMT

Okay, so I'm helping to move furniture from the old comix shop to the new comix shop. Apparently, one of the cabinets has a hinged top that I did not know about...
I seem to be unable to hold a stylus now...
Oh well, I really didn't feel a connection with the Megadeath contest entry anway. The only reason I was even doing it was to prove to myself that I can produce artwork for a project I have no love for on deadline. It's not like the contest offered a prize of any real value anyway. Top three entrants receive guitars signed by Dave Mustane. Mustane is right-handed... I am not. I suppose I could have sold the thing on Ebay, but I would feel guilty about it if I did. Besides, I've seen the portfolios of about 10 of the people I know are entering, and they are way better than me.
During my convalescence, I've been working on a painting I really want to do, and I think It would be much, much better than a heavy metal (snrrk!) poster could ever hope to be.
Would've been a nice entry on my resume, though.

Thu, 09 Feb 2006 18:46:49 GMT

I've entered a contest over at DeviantArt, to redesign Vic, Megadeath's mascot. To that end, I've been listening to Megadeath all morning. What I've discovered is this: In order to gain inspiration to redesign Megadeath's mascot, I shouldn't be listening to Megadeath, I should be listening to Celtic Frost, Opeth, Cradle of Filth, et. al.
I never realised Megadeath was so light and fluffy.
Tactical Tip: If you're going to sing about death, destruction, and extinction, don't write your songs in major keys, use soaring, uplifting guitar licks, or sing in a lilting, melodic (for metal) voice. The only Megadeath songs I could remember from the 80's were Symphony of Destruction and Anarchy In The U.K., so I didn't realise they did those things so often. I just thought they had killer posters and cover art.
I swear, I've listened to Happy Hardcore (a style of techno), that was more bleak and depressing (and harder to dance to) than 80% of Megadeath.
Oh well... at least I have a cool idea for Vic... no thanks to Megadeath.

Happy Exorcist Day !

Sun, 25 Dec 2005 13:38:02 GMT

On this day, we celebrate the release, in 1973, of one of the greatest movies of all time.
The Exorcist.
Have some split pea soup, tie a loved one to the bed, and whip out your crucifix, baby.

Sun, 14 Aug 2005 20:32:17 GMT

I very nearly managed to feed one of the baby squirrels by hand today. I must admit that it wasn't my sheer animal magnetism that facilitated this, however. Mrs. Squirrelly-Head (mother of said baby) was also on the porch, eating sunflower seeds that I was picking out of a box of parrot food, when she came close enough to grab several seeds from my hand. While this is going on, the baby (whom I call Twitch because of her excessively twitchy tail) had exhausted the supply of seeds on the porch and, emboldened by her mother's actions came up and, seeing the proferred seeds in my hand... nibbled my finger. Twitchy apprently didn't find the taste agreeable, as she never quite came close enough to do that again. Finally, a motorcycle rumbled by and startled them off, so I left several seeds on the porch and went back inside. Damn I'm going to miss those squirrels.
I need to sweep the porch after I finish tomorrow's comic.

Woo-Hoo!

Thu, 28 Apr 2005 13:40:56 GMT

Tue, 19 Apr 2005 18:38:53 GMT

Computer Illiterate

Which Eddie Izzard Quote Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

Wed, 09 Feb 2005 20:21:54 GMT

I'm sitting here coloring the last panel of Friday's strip and "I Need A Hero" crops up in my playlist... oddly appropo, I think...
I'm such a geek.

Unemployment Sux

Thu, 27 Jan 2005 01:56:59 GMT

While going through postings on Hotjobs, Headhunter, Monster, and Cleveland.com, I decided to check my application history. Here's a list of the jobs I've applied for in the past 3 months:
54 Tech Support
12 Help Desk
3 Network Administrator
4 Retail Management
9 Retail Sales (including one porn shop gig that I really wanted)
1 Graphic Designer

This is just for the online stuff. In addition to that, I've applied to Best Buy, Circuit City, Office Max, Blockbuster (2 locations), Hollywood Video (3 locations), GameStop (2 locations), FYI, Carribou Coffee, Burger King, Donato's, Subway, Quiznos, UDF, McDonald's, Wendy's, and Arby's. So far, I haven't even been granted an interview. I haven't applied for anything that I don't have documented experience for, I don't have a criminal record of any sort, and I don't have a single bad reference. I don't know what the hell is going on, but I'm very definately sick of this shit.

Thu, 13 Jan 2005 05:58:05 GMT

You scored as Artistic. Congratulations, you scored Artistic. You're looking for the unique movie in the bunch. You've probably watched a lot of movies that nobody has ever heard of, and good for you. You also know good filmmaking when you see it. You just get it, no questions asked. Check out: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Amelie, Garden State, Lost in Translation.

</td>

Artistic

100%

Mindfuck

70%

Sci-Fi/Fantasy

65%

Sadistic Humour

60%

Drama/Suspense

55%

Romantic Comedy

25%

Mindless Action Flick

15%

Movie Recommendation.
created with QuizFarm.com

This is a long one...

Tue, 30 Nov 2004 04:36:37 GMT

So I'm back from Georgia, and I'm feeling a bit introspective. I'm also feeling a bit anti-social, as I've not been alone at all in the past week, and I really need to be alone from time to time. I also discovered that Matthew has a wonderful family, and I hope he realizes how lucky he is. I was raised by a wonderful woman who I loved very much, but after my parents divorced I never saw her again. Her given name was Katherine Black, but I always called her Miss Katie. she was a Black Creole woman of indeterminate age. In the twelve years I knew her, she seemed unchangeable, the one constant in my life. Two things happened this week that made me realize how much I miss her. The first was meeting and spending time with Matthew's parents and grandparents. The second was learning that my favorite person in the entire world, the beautiful and wonderful Jessica, lost her father to cancer Sunday morning. When I learned of this, I wanted so badly to just hold her, and tell her something, anything, that would make her feel even the slightest bit better. I could not do this. I am a stranger to her family, and therefore could not impose myself upon their personal grief. i instead had to try to console her over Matthew's cell phone. I failed miserably. This is because I've never dealt particularly well with death. With the exception of Miss Katie, a hired servant ( I hate referring to her as that, I felt closer to her than I've ever felt to any blood relative I've had, but she was, in fact, hired by my father to raise me), I've never had a visceral relationship with anyone in my family. I don't even know when she died, or for that matter, if she is in fact dead. I can only assume this is so, as she raised my father and aunt, and was older than my paternal grandmother (who died in 1997). When my father died, I was informed, on my birthday (by my mother and maternal grandmother), a full two months after the fact. I will certainly be unaware of my mother's death, as is true of my maternal grandmother, as I expect to never communicate with either. The reasons for which are onerous to detail at this point, but in the case of my mother, all would agree my decision is justified. In the case of my grandmother, the guilt of being non-present for my uncle's death is my only excuse, and an unacceptable one at that. He assumed the role of father and older brother on the rare occasions he was able, and I missed his final moments because I'd dedicated all my time to my little webcomic, and therefore had not the money to go see him. I can't face her after that. I could have at least called, but I was too intent on burying my own grief to do so.
The only time I've truly given in to grief was when I was 21. My fiancee and unborn child were killed while on their way to my birthday celebration. I don't talk about the three years that followed. Suffice to say that they were not especially constructive, productive, or sane. The only reason I survived those years is due to a manufacturing default by Walther. That and friends who refused to sell me the more exotic chemicals I used to blot out the pain and guilt.
I honestly did not intend this entry to go this way, but I oddly refuse to edit or delete it. Instead, I will change topics.
Not only am I caught up on the comic (aside from the afore-mentioned break), but I'm actually ahead. I do need to email Misha and request a script for Friday, though. I've been experimenting with a new style (yes... again...) that closer fits my previous experience. the final two panels in Monday's strip aren't very good (I swear they looked better on the laptop LCD), but I hope that Wednesday's strip will be considered better. I absolutely adore the newest version of Corel Painter. Being able to mix paint directly on the canvas is amazingly freeing.
Sometimes I think I made a mistake in moving to Cleveland. If I hadn't, however, I'd never had met Jae, Katie & Mike (who are now engaged; I should probably congratulate them in their journals, but I'd rather do that in person), Melissa, or Dmitri (whom I've not seen in a very long time, but they are often in my thoughts). And of course, Cheshire Grin never would have started. Despite all the sacrifices, pain (my wrist bothers me quite abominably much of the time), and poverty involved in this frustrating, yet rewarding endeavor, I do love it. There are sufficient reasons that make me think that I wish I could have simultaneously been in both places, though.
I think I'm going to stop rambling now. Howard gave me his copy of Homeworld 2, so perhaps I'll just play that for a bit.

CAA Geek Glee

Mon, 01 Nov 2004 23:04:12 GMT

Oh. My. God.
ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod...
Painter IX is the most awesome thing in the history of awesome. The Artist Oils brush set, the tracker, the new and improved palette... the palette...::quiver:: And I've only spent about 5 minutes playing with this thing... it's just... incredible. I'll post a more thorough review after I've finished Wednesday's strip, but for now, I have to finish my linework as soon as possible so I can really cut loose.
Wow.

This Seems a Bit Low...

Mon, 02 Aug 2004 04:37:43 GMT

</td><td valign="top">OK. There is such a thing as too much geekness. I suspect you're spending far too much time with the boys or girls of the Internet. The closer your score is to 100%, the closer you are to going right out the other side and being a nerd. Geeks rule. Where geeks are socially-inept, nerds are socially incompetent. Not even geeks can take nerds. So let's be careful, huh? Watch a little TV, maybe listen to some popular radio, read a little Stephen King, anything to ensure you can communicate with the 99.44% of the population that isn't all that concerned with the minutiae of whatever it is you happen to be geeky about. It's OK to be a geek, but go much further and you'll be a genuine bore.</td></tr>

You are 77% geek

Take the Polygeek Quiz at Thudfactor.com

Get a Life... and a library card.

Sat, 31 Jul 2004 01:18:14 GMT

I find it distressingly difficult to try to hold a conversation with someone whose entire repertiore of allegory is drawn entirely from comic books, science fiction, and fantasy novels. The topic of discussion doesn't particularly matter, the person in question will always use at least 3-4 references from one or more of those sources.
Discussing topics covered during the most recent Gravitation conference? Comic book, comic book, SF, fantasy, "I wish I could access alternate universes."
Philosophy? Fantasy, SF, SF, comic book, "I wish I could access alternate universes."
Computers? SF, SF, SF, SF RPG, "I wish I could access alternate universes."
I think so-and-so might have been late for work today. Comic book, SF, "I wish I had a time machine."
At least things diversify slightly for politics. Dilbert, comic book, SF, Michael Moore, "I wish I could access alternate universes."
I don't talk about art within earshot of him any more. Comic book, comic book, comic book, comic bookcomic bookcomic bookcomic bookcomic bookcomic bookcomic bookcomic bookcomic bookcomic bookcomic bookcomicbookcomicbookcomicbook, "I wish I could access alternate universes."
To be fair, the topic of magic and superpowers often come up during these discussions, especially considering art and technology.
Don't get me wrong, I love speculative fiction. I don't read comic books, oddly enough, but most of my library does consist of fantasy and SF. The rest, however is computer manuals, science texts aimed at the educated layperson, and a bit of literature. I also have life experience to draw upon.
Oh, I nearly forgot another source of allegory this person has... video games.

Was there ever any doubt?

Tue, 27 Jul 2004 03:11:09 GMT

My life is rated NC-17.
What is your life rated?

Thu, 22 Jul 2004 04:18:27 GMT

*The \\*
Last Cigarette:	20 minutes ago, on the porch with Potter (neighbor's cat)
Last Alcoholic Drink:	Hmmm... there's an idea...
Last Car Ride:	Today, grocery shopping w/ Matthew
Last Kiss:	November
Last Good Cry:	Honestly don't recall. Early childhood, most likely.
Last Library Book:	Zero - The Biography Of A Dangerous Idea
Last book bought:	Belgarath the Sorceror (and) Polgara the Sorceress (same day)
Last Book Read:	Zero
Last Movie Seen in Theatres:	SpiderMan 2
Last Movie Rented:	Can't recall
Last Cuss Word Uttered:	Fuck, most likely... hard to keep track
Last Beverage Drank:	coffee
Last Food Consumed:	biscuit
Last Crush:	November
Last Phone Call:	Misha, from N.C., probably last week
Last TV Show Watched:	Does Dilbert on DVD count?
Last Time Showered:	I'm showering now!
Last Shoes Worn:	Sketchers
Last CD Played:	Stargazer - Deepsky
Last Item Bought:	Cigs
Last Download:	The latest GAIM tar
Last Annoyance:	POS monitor...
Last Disappointment:	haven't found a transcript of Stephen Hawking's July 21 lecture yet
Last Soda Drank:	Cherry Coke
Last Thing Written:	Cherry Coke
Last Key Used:	The padlock key on the old storage facility
Last Words Spoken:	'night
Last Sleep:	noon today
Last Ice Cream Eaten:	uhm... Octoberish?
Last Chair Sat In:	desk chair... while typing, uhm... this
Last Webpage Visited:	www.newscientist.com
Create a survey!

Uhm...

Sun, 18 Jul 2004 04:32:51 GMT

If I ever play D&D again...

Tue, 15 Jun 2004 04:47:44 GMT

I Am A: Chaotic Good GnomeThief Bard

Alignment:
Chaotic Good characters are independent types with a strong belief in the value of goodness. They have little use for governments and other forces of order, and will generally do their own things, without heed to such groups.

Race:
Gnomes are also short, like dwarves, but much skinnier. They have no beards, and are very inclined towards technology, although they have been known to dabble in magic, too. They tend to be fun-loving and fond of jokes and humor. Some gnomes live underground, and some live in cities and villages. They are very tolerant of other races, and are generally well-liked, though occasionally considered frivolous.

Primary Class:
Thieves are the most roguish of the classes. They are sneaky and nimble-fingered, and have skills with traps and locks. While not all use these skills for burglary, that is a common occupation of this class.

Secondary Class:
Bards are the entertainers. They sing, dance, and play instruments to make other people happy, and, frequently, make money. They also tend to dabble in magic a bit.

Deity:
Tymora is the Chaotic Good goddess of luck and good fortune. She is also known as Lady Luck, and also Tyche's fair-tressed daughter. Followers of Tymora believe in the tenent that, 'Fortune Favors the Bold,' and will throw caution to the wind and trust to luck to work things out for the best. Tymora's symbol is an unmarked silver disk.

Find out What D&D Character Are You?, courtesy ofNeppyMan (e-mail)

Technical Difficulties

Thu, 10 Jun 2004 20:43:16 GMT

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!!!!
The monitor on my graphics workstation just blew up. I don't mean, "Oh look, the screen went blank," or "Well then, it went 'pop' and stopped working." No. The motherfucker blew up.
It blew up.
It blew the fuck up.
Smoke, flames, sparks, the whole nine fucking yards. The only thing it didn't do was spray shards of glass in my eyes. That would have really sucked.
So, after 3 1/2 hours of trying to find a monitor that actually works (the monitor on my Linux box has a very particular problem that only Linux seems to be able to deal with), I'm trying to draw the comic on a monitor with a max resolution of 800x600 (though it only uses 640x480 worth of space... you don't even want to know what happens if I actually set it to 640x480), my tablet won't sync up to the new display properly, so I'm using only the upper left 1/3 of the tablet, turning fine motions into gross sweeps of the cursor, and there's a huge curvature to the screen, so everything looks slightly out of whack. Oh, did I mention the screen is interlaced, so I can only stare at it for 20 minutes before my vision goes blurry and my head starts to throb?
Life. Don't talk to me about "Life".

WTF?

Fri, 21 May 2004 17:35:48 GMT

I had the strangest dream last night. Part of what makes it strange is that I remember it. I tend not to remember dreams. anyways...
I dreamt that I had been shot, 6 or 8 times in the back, 3 times in the chest, with arrows. By the local constabulary. Led by Captain Carrot (I haven't even got around to reading Pratchett yet...). I don't remember why I was shot, or what precisely I was doing, but I do remember that my ass was dangling out a second story window. I was also wearing my 16 year old (on June 12th, anyway) motorcycle jacket, and I was rather pissed off about having holes punched in it, in addition having holes punched in me. So I'm wandering around the streets of this small town (circa 1980's feel), looking for a hospital, but all I can find are closed restaurants and car dealerships. Also, there is no one out and about. I didn't think this was odd at the time, so I'm guessing it was really early in the morning. The light had that quality to it, at least. Finally, I find an old woman who bums a smoke off me, and I ask her where the closest hospital is. She points to the car dealership across the corner.
"No," I say, "I want a human hospital. Besides, have you ever tried to get your car fixed at the dealership? They charge twice what's necessary, and I'd be waiting for weeks, by which time I'll be well dead."
"Well then," she says, "at least then you won't have to worry about what they charge, will you?"
"Good point. But I think I'd rather expire in the park across the street than deal with the paperwork, aggravation, and Muzak." After this, we parted ways and I continue my search.
I cut across the park, as I could see what bordered it on the side I'd been walking towards (another car lot and an insurance provider), but could not see what lay across it. I saw several very cute finches, a few chipmunks, and a bunny (I luuuuuf bunnies). Cheered by this, I continued my trek across the park, passing a playground on the way. I was in such a good mood at this point that I briefly considered playing on the flying jenny for a bit before continuing my search (a flying jenny is a cross between a see-saw and merry-go-round, if you don't already know). I should point out at this time that I was in very little pain in this part of the dream. Just an annoying itch where each of the shafts penetrated my torso, and a dull ache deep in my chest whenever I moved or breathed. I exited the park to find another car lot and two restaurants. As i set off down the street again, I come across a fellow that looks a lot like the singer and guitarist for The Green Hit (Russ Bledsoe) just as a guy in a silvery sports car pulls up. I ask Russ where the hospitals are (I think I used the plural, my mistake if I did), and he responds, "You mean besides West General? Well, there's..." He then names off about six car dealerships whose names I can't remember, and upon naming the last one, points across the street.
"But I don't want to go to a mechanic," I say, somewhat exasperated by this point, "I want to go to a proper doctor." The fellow in the sports car, who, I just realized, looked a lot like Matthew McConaughey's character in Dazed and Confused, offers to take me to West General, if I really want to go all the way across town. I had to get into the back seat of the car, partly because I had to kneel in the floorboard due to all the arrows sticking out of me, and partly because his girlfriend (whom I don't have a clear image of) had claimed shotgun. I hadn't removed any of the arrows because I didn't want to cause any further damage, or unplug the holes they had made, allowing even more blood to escape my body than already had. I quite vividly remember the episode "of whatever that paramedic show that had Lou Ferigno in it was called" where a guy gets shot, through the heart, with a practice arrow, and yet does not die because the shaft was effectively sealing the wound. A work of the most ludicrous fiction, of course; the heart would have ripped itself apart around the shaft, but still it illustrates the point.
Shortly after the ride to the hospital began, I started to take a turn for the worse. Every breath became shallow and very,very painful. Matthew offered me a cigarette, but I decline. I tried to quip wittily, "No thanks, my lungs are already full of fucking arrows!! I don't really think there's any room for smoke," but all that came out was a weak, gurgling croak. The girlfriend then said, her voice full of fear, "He must be in really bad shape to turn down a cigarette."
Apparently she knew me.
Shortly thereafter, I started getting really bad. My head was lolling over the front bench seat, every breath was very shallow indeed, and followed by a rasping cough that sent fresh waves of pain and nausea through my body. Everything was very, very dark, and I was begining to feel sleepy. Matthew said, "I we don't do something, he's going to die in this fucking car." He then reached back to pluck one of the arrows from my back, assumedly to relieve my breathing a bit. I tried to cry out, "Don't! It's a hunting tip!" but all that came out was a spray of blood and saliva.
The dream ends there. I felt as if I was falling asleep, which, in reality, was precisely what my mind was doing, but I assume that I died in that dream.
Ah well. I guess I should have gone to a car dealership.

No More Filters

Thu, 20 May 2004 04:13:50 GMT

I came to a decision this morning. If I want to be a great webcomic artist, I have to stop trying to emulate other people. Fuck Piro. Fuck Poe. They are no longer my yardstick. From now on, the only person I have to be better than is myself. Every single, goddamned day. This also means that I have to start using what I know rather than trying to conform to other people's methods. Granted, I can't paint each panel in oil, on canvas, then take a digital photo and port it in, but I have my tablet, I have Painter, so I can do the next best thing. Unfortunately, the bastard isn't even remotely intuitive yet. Hopefully that will come with time. The one feature that the Wacom Intuos has that I wish this thing had is tilt sensitivity. I'm tired of only having one grip that works on this friggin' stylus. However, if I'd known about the hyperpen series of tablets a year ago, I would have had one then, and all this would be moot.
Ah well.
Sleep, work, clean, sleep, work...
PARTY!!!
^_^
Yay housewarming

Sun, 09 May 2004 02:31:27 GMT

I'm watching "Sabrina" for the 278th time (the Julia Ormand version; my Audrey Hepburn version is long since dead, and I've not yet replaced it). This movie gets to me in a way that I really wished it did not. Julia Ormand very well should have, could have, almost did, replace Audrey Hepburn as the most beautiful, most elegant woman in cinema, but did not. Why? Her choice in projects, I suppose. Too serious, too dark. Audrey made her career on romantic comedies. Julia has only made one, as far as I'm aware (if anyone knows of another, please let me know, I'd love to see it). In some ways, I like the newer version better. First of all, I didn't like the idea that Sabrina was so weak (in the original) that she would attempt suicide, sign of the times, perhaps. Also, I can't even remember the name of the guy who played David in the first film, but he didn't impress me nearly as much as Greg Kinnear did. It was his first film, for Christ's sake, and he was incredible!. Harrison Ford, well... duh. He's fucking Harrison - by - god- Ford, for Christ sakes. He's the only reason I liked the first three Star Wars Films.
Where the fuck was I?
Linus. Yes, Linus. He made the right choices for the wrong reasons, and yet, it all worked out. I really wish that would happen in real life. Hell, we make the right choices for the wrong reasons, the wrong choices for the right reasons, even the right choices for the right reasons, but does it ever work out? No. Well, not in my experience anyway. Then again, life is not the movies. It's not literature, it's not even a webcomic. The reasons for our choices don't matter, the choices don't matter. Nothing works out the way we plan, the way we hope, certainly not the way we dream.
I've been in love twice in my entire life. Personally, I think that's an extraodinary number of times. Most people never find true love, they settle for what's convenient. I don't talk about the first time I fell in love. The second time didn't work out because I overcompensated for my distant, aloof independence. I almost fell in love a third time, but I ran away to the great white midwest rather than risk it.
The choices we make are not a means to an end however. They are the end. They define us. Succeed or fail, the results do not matter. What matters is our growth as people, our lives are circumscribed by the tracery of our emotional scars, a road map of our personal road trip, as it were. Life, love, death, pain. We prefer the "positive" aspects, but we need all of them. I treasure my traumas. I would not change anything had I the chance to relive my life. I might be happier, but I would not be me. Actually, I would change one thing, but I can't talk about that. I would arrange it so that I'd still be me, but someone who is not here still would be. Two someones, actually.
I'm not an optimist; the glass is not half full.
I'm not a pessimist; the glass is not half empty.
I'm a realist; the glass hasn't nearly enough vodka.
I'm going back to putting my waterbed together now.
Then, I go back to work.
I'll sleep when I pass out. Probably at my desk.

Gyaaah! Overslept >_

Fri, 23 Apr 2004 13:23:10 GMT

Meant to be up at 6, didn't get up until 8. Since it take me an hour to go through my email, check the forums, read comics, etc., it is now 9. Which is better than I thought until 2 minutes ago, however. Since the "wake" button is right next to the button that advances the time on my alarm clock by 1 hour, I thought it was 10 rather than 9, until I finally minimized my browser and saw my computer's clock. Sadly, this happens alot. So, why am I so worried about time? Well, we're moving into a new house next week. We absolutly must, must, msut be out of here, and have the place as clean as possible no later than the 30th. This means I need to be ahead on the comic before we even start with the packing and moving and stuffs. My goal is to have Thursday's comic drawn and uploaded before I go to sleep Sunday night. I also need to have the business card and t-shirt designs finalized and ready to go to the printers by then. The business cards are top priority, since we have to have them in time for CapCon and ACEN (May 12, I think). We don't forsee having the funds available to print enough t-shirts to sell at either con (I won't be selling anything at ACEN anyway, just networking), but it would be nice to have a few of them printed for us to wear. Walking billboards and all that, ya know. I figure I'll have to put in about 46 hours of work this weekend to pull all that off. That's about 133% of my normal work load, so no problem right? Well... we've been invited to a Beltane celebration at Oberlin, and I'll be damned if I'm going to miss that. That will be a huge chucnk out of my Saturday (Jae, if you're reading this, my email was wrong on the time... it runs all day Saturday into Sunday, about 2am... sorry about that). I will have to skip game night though. Again...
So why am I writing rather than working? Well, I'm brewing a cup of Weapons Grade (actually just finished brewing, I am now enjoying very much), and if I start drawing while waiting, I'll forget about the coffee and it will get all cold and stuff, and Weapons Grade does not react well to microwave radiation. BTW, the sublime alchemy involved in making a cup of Weapons Grade requires the use of an espresso machine, so I can only make one cup at a time, and there is no heating element to keep it warm if I neglect it. One does not neglect Weapons Grade. The consequences would be most dire and harrowing.
Well, I have my beloved coffee, I have my timeclock (yes, I downloaded a timeclock program to keep track of how much I actually work...), I have Painter open to the file I left off on last night (1:30 this morning), so it's off to work for me.
Byeee

Tarot Quiz

Sun, 18 Apr 2004 21:36:20 GMT

I Am

Which tarot card are you?

No More Fillers =(

Sun, 18 Apr 2004 04:27:07 GMT

As Saturday's points out, I am not allowed to draw filler strips anymore, and furthermore, both Saturday and Sunday are to be filler days. Therefore, today's strip is to be my last filler.
Yeah right. I'll weasle my way back in there, just you wait =)
Anyways, I was really happy with today's painting, until I reduced it down to 700 pixels by whatever. Web-friendly resolution turned out to be 28% of what I painted the thing at, so I lost a lot of detail. Given that fact, I think I'll have to render my next painting at 200 dpi (as opposed to 300) so that I don't lose all that detail. If I try to compensate for the drop in res by exagerating details, it will look like crap when it goes to print, so I'll just have to up the res on the original to 300 dpi for the printers, and do some cleanup when the time comes.
I actually have some other stuff I want to write about, but I can't really think of a good way to say any of it, so I hink I'm just going to get a bit more work in, then go to bed. My decision not to put a desk in my room because I didn't want to risk damaging these pristine hardwood floors is begining to bite me in the ass. Literally. My "zen workstation" setup was fine when I just used my computer for cleanup and layout on the comic, plus some light web-surfing, but now that the entirety of my workday (10 - 16 hours) is spent sitting crosslegged on a few cushions on the floor, my ass and thighs are sore as hell. It was so bad today that I got a total of 6 hours of work in. When I told Misha that, he burst out laughing as if it was the funniest thing he'd heard in days. Something about it being Saturday. Feh.
Oh yeah, I said I was going to get back to work, didn't I?
Ok, bye now.

Your LJ RPG Team
LJ Username
Sex
Favorite Color
Weapon of Choice
Your Partner	kinglerer
Your Warrior	theferrett
The Giggly, Flirtatious Magic User with Big Breasts	armyofrobots
The Talking Animal	kinglerer
Main Archenemy	sclerotic_rings
Evil Incarnate	kinglerer

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