sheep go to heaven: April 2012

Monday, April 30, 2012

en code

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that's what a picture looks like to a computer.

i've been doing a lot of work with the idea of codes and translation in the past two semesters; with the notions of interpreting and translating codes; and even looking at and appreciating the beauty of code that isn't translated.

it all started last fall in my digital image class, when we learned how to reveal the code for an image file and mess with that. and i carried that over into my work for my mfa class. at first, i just played around with messing up the image code, sticking in bits of english text and looking at how it changed the displayed picture.
then i took it a little further and started adding in text relevant to the image: the declaration of independence into a picture of thomas jefferson, d&c 110 into pictures of the kirtland temple, text messages into pictures of me and my friends.
eventually, i went all the way and removed the code for the image entirely, filling the file with purely english text, such as the first 26 chapters of genesis and looking at what sort of an image they produced.

i really had no idea what all of this "meant", it was just interesting to play with and see the results. and one of my friends noted something that really stuck with me. as he was working to finish his exhibit for last semester's show, he said that they're asking us to write about what our work means, but if we could describe it in any other way, we wouldn't be doing it.

that really shifted my view on some things and helped me realize that i don't need to know what it means in order for it to have meaning. to borrow the old quote from science, "if we knew what we were doing, it wouldn't be research."

if a path of art or exploration is interesting, there will be a reason why it's of interest, but that might not be apparent until after you've gone down it for a ways. as i started looking at what i was doing, i thought about how we communicate with computers every day. we take a picture of a sunset on our phone, the computer translates it into code that it can understand, it transmits that, then reassembles it once again into something that a friend can recognize as that same sunset. we live in a bilingual society and don't even think about it because the interpretation is invisible.
and so my work of messing with that code was exposing that communication between us and technology and then playing with it by removing the translation: what happens the computer has to work directly with english and what does it look like as a visual image?

hey, that's pretty cool.

a month or two ago in a visiting artist lecture, i had the idea for an analog version of an image code: what if i wrote it out myself. taking my own message and scrambling it onto a canvas without any logic so that, like the file of a digital photograph, it would be completely incomprehensible to anyone looking at it, but i would know what it said.

as all of this was percolating in my mind over the past few weeks, i realized something: i love code. i love the idea of being able to say things but say them safely, so that only those who know the key can understand them. often times, i'm the only one who fully understands the coded message, but it's still a way of expressing myself without complete exposure.

"we construct our identity in language, but this identity frequently assumes an alien form," i noted from an essay on the writings of roland barthes.

with my close friends, shorthand and code develops. words like "table saw" or "gnomed" instantly carry meaning, as do more abstract sayings like "na na na nanana na way-o" or "fdklsajfdklsajfd;asjfk;d." and it's even gotten to the point that things like, #yeah, {<>}, and even a simple ( all have their own denotations and connotations.

and nowhere do i do that more fully than here on sheep go to heaven. so often, the titles and pictures carry just as much meaning as do the content of the posts, or else the posts will be allegories for other questions i'm pondering. and my cryptic post labels--12.2, fair, frenzy, 4505, etc.--all mean something to me.

as i've been wrapping up my work this semester, it's been fun to play with these ideas, and fascinating to understand why they're so interesting to me.

ei blot til lyst

Sunday, April 29, 2012

leviticus

one of my regular jobs in utah was working for a producer who was sometimes referred to as the godfather of the utah film industry. he looked like mr. burns from the simpsons and smoked like a chimney, but i liked him and he really liked me. i would always work as the film loader on his sets, a job which is the literal heart of the production: i take in the exposed film, send out fresh film, and if i stop working, the production grinds to a halt. and mr. burns liked to keep a tight watch over the film totals throughout the day, so i made sure to always know how much we'd shot for that day and how much was left.

throughout the productions, he'd call me into his office or his trailer and we'd discuss how much film we were likely to need for the next order. i liked being a part of these discussions and i liked that he trusted me with things. i also liked that he was so happy with my work that he said i should be bumped up to a higher position but he didn't want to lose me where i was at and so said he'd pay me at a higher rate on the next show (sadly, that was my last show before i moved to texas.)
because he liked me and trusted me, it didn't mean i could do whatever the heck i wanted on set. rather, he trusted me because he knew i'd do what was right.

the third book of the old testament is the book of leviticus, infamously known as one of the most boring books in the bible. i've never found it painfully dull, but that's likely because i was bracing for it, and because i kind of get into that "old testament" stuff.

leviticus is basically a list of rules of how to observe the law of moses, such as the breed and amount of animals required to be sacrificed based on your sins from the past week. it can seem, at best, pretty tedious and micro-managing. at worst, it can seem totalitarian, dictating every little can and cannot.

but it's because we need to do what's right. that God has a right and a wrong way to do things and He can trust us and bless us more as we better learn to live rightly and do what He asks us to do.

dang. this analogy seemed so much clearer two years ago when i first thought about it.

Saturday, April 28, 2012

like a rolling stone

i spent the evening in the studio at school with a canvas, my ipod, and some markers.

i've stayed focused this week and it's paid off. my roommates today noted that they haven't seen me since tuesday and i didn't come home until 6 a.m. this morning, but i finished all of my video projects and my shading assignment was selected as part of the class demo reel for next week's show. there's still more to do for the show and i'm not letting myself slow down yet. i shopped for materials before stake conference. after conference, i was in the studio.

today was one of those days where no one texted me back.
the only proof i had that i had my service was even working was a brief exchange between brandon and myself, excited about a few of our videos getting selected for the show's main exhibition.
and while it's not the end of the world by any account, it's hard not to imagine your friends checking their phones and going, "meh."

so i used that feeling of isolation to propel my work and decided that i may as well enjoy the feeling of being a lonely artist on a saturday night. and with a good playlist and a can of code red mountain dew, i did.

as i was prepping my canvas, i thought it was starting to look pretty cool and began wondering if i should make it my project as it was.

i finished it a few hours later and feared that i might have been right about that. the end result was... lackluster. a few weeks ago, to the delight of my professor, i refuted the incorrect interpretations of my "power of vulnerability" piece (which was also accepted into the show, thank you.) he and i also talked a bit about my work and where i am and he noted that my ideas are strong, but that i'm not fully committed to being an artist and that it shows in my work.

and that's a fair statement. i'm not. i'm working to be a layout artist at an animation studio, not a fine artist in a gallery. but it did raise the question of what could i accomplish if i focused more? i'm often actually rather pleased with my ideas in the conception, but i don't think i follow and develop them as extensively as they deserve.
staring at the finished product from tonight's work, i think that's probably true.

perusing facebook before writing here, i saw an essay by ben folds about advice to aspiring musicians. one of his first points felt applicable to me tonight:

Finding your Voice takes a lot of frustrating time. That's a painful period that all artists go through, sometimes more than once. I think that most artists don't want to admit that period ever existed. We all like to pretend we came out special and it all just magically happened. You will eventually find that it takes no effort to just be yourself, but the road to that place can be long and rough. The truth is that most artists would not want you to see the evolution of their Voice. It would be very embarrassing. Imitating your heroes, trying on ill advised affectations. It's all part of the trip. It's why all those Before They Were Stars footage is so cringe worthy. Nobody wants to be seen in that light and so successful musicians do the new generation a disservice by denying their shady artistic past. I for one, will do my best to cover my tracks because I don't want anyone seeing that sh*t!

a few more lines i liked:

Be schooled in form and technique as much as you can swallow and abandon it when you feel it's nearly killed you.

How many times do we say or hear "they're trying tooooo hard!" I say, try try and try again but just put the effort into the right things.

in fact, i liked the whole essay enough that i'm going to put it up as a separate post here, just so i have it.
but your obligation as a faithful sheep go to heaven reader ends now.

"to aspiring musicians who have time to read this stuff"

written by ben folds, posted on facebook, april 28, 2012:
(editor's note: uncharacteristically, mr. folds has added his own asterisks in the occasional strong language used here.)

To aspiring musical artists who have time to read this stuff:

I'm often asked for advice to aspiring musicians and I'm just immature enough to take a stab at it on this flight to Boston. Really, I'm not dead sure of any of this, but here goes... if nothing else, maybe I'm thinking aloud - stuff that I need to remember for myself. Forgive any perceived tone of all-knowingness. It just comes out that way when I'm trying to make sense of it all.

"Take my advice - Don't Listen To Me" - Neil Young

Aaaaaand!

Point number one, with a bullet ...

+ LIKE THEY USED TO SAY ON VH-1: MUSIC FIRST

We talk a lot about how computers and internet have changed and will change music. Usually what people are talking about is the distribution of music and not music itself. That's not really something an aspiring musician should be all overly concerned with. It may become important for you to be savvy about distribution and promotion, but it won't do you any good if you're not making music first.

I realize the big question for most aspiring musical artist is how to get your break. There isn't really a break. It's a lot of different breaks, some good and some bad. There will be significant lucky opportunities that you may or may not recognize as such. It's not an exact science and the landscape is constantly morphing. Advice on how to 'make it' is dubious business. I do believe that if you're not ready musically, the best opportunity in the world isn't even an opportunity.

++ WORK DILIGENTLY TO FIND YOUR VOICE

"Everything I'm not made me everything I am" - Kanye West

Finding your Voice takes a lot of frustrating time. That's a painful period that all artists go through, sometimes more than once. I think that most artists don't want to admit that period ever existed. We all like to pretend we came out special and it all just magically happened. You will eventually find that it takes no effort to just be yourself, but the road to that place can be long and rough. The truth is that most artists would not want you to see the evolution of their Voice. It would be very embarrassing. Imitating your heroes, trying on ill advised affectations. It's all part of the trip. It's why all those Before They Were Stars footage is so cringe worthy. Nobody wants to be seen in that light and so successful musicians do the new generation a disservice by denying their shady artistic past. I for one, will do my best to cover my tracks because I don't want anyone seeing that sh*t!

My earliest attempts at singing were painfully affected. I tried to sound like a singer. I gave that up and played in bands with 'real singers'. This was in my late teens and early to mid twenties. I would write a song and coach the singers to perform it the way I heard it. While I couldn't put my finger on why my singing sucked I found that I more easily identified the fake ass singer affectations in others and would encourage them to straighten up the delivery, as if they were sing speaking. As I heard myself coaching them on rehearsal tapes, I heard the Voice that would bring my songs to life. It took no real effort just to be me but it took some time and effort to realize that. We have to learn that we have no control over who we are musically but we do have the choice to be that or to try and be some other motherf*cker. The latter is a lot of work.

The thing about writing is that there's such a narrow language that is used in conventional songwriting in any era. I enjoy putting an instructions manual to music, for instance, to see what it feels like to operate outside the conventional lexicon and cadence. Even putting sentiments in your own words, as if it were an email, can be quite un-pop and awkward when paired with music. For me, Awkward = Freedom. Whatever you find that emancipates you from that narrow slice of currently acceptable pop vernacular and pacing might be your freedom. Unless! You're one of those people who just think Rock. They exist. Then you're a Freedom Rocker, one of the proud and few. I'm just a Freedom Nerd, but that could always change.

+++ TECHNIQUE AND FORGET ABOUT IT

Be schooled in form and technique as much as you can swallow and abandon it when you feel it's nearly killed you. Know how people did it before you. Play covers and have respect for the mastery of what came before. It will make you suck for a while. Any gains you make as a musician, especially technically generally have the side effect of rendering you unfocused for a short period of time. Basically, you can expect to play and write like a goober for a while when digesting concepts. Then it sinks in and you come out of the haze, stronger with a broader palette, sharper pen and more confidence.

++++ FOR GOD'S SAKE, PLEASE TRY TOO HARD!

How many times do we say or hear "they're trying tooooo hard!" I say, try try and try again but just put the effort into the right things. That's probably the basis of good musical technique. Intense effort, focused into what it takes to express. All other muscles, thoughts and effort needn't be recruited. Work what it takes to be "in it" and send everything else home. That's tough. For instance, when playing a scale you don't want your other fingers rigid and pointing up to the ceiling. When you're singing, you don't want a clenched jaw. It's a waste of your effort. Paddle like a freak beneath it to keep it afloat but don't wear yourself out paddling against your own team. Same with your artistry. Don't spend effort on crap like... well, being cool. It's a killer. It takes effort to appear as if you don't care. What a waste. By the same token, don't feel you have to beat every note into people's heads and be Guy Smiley all the time. Just make music and have good manners. Training yourself to relax unnecessarily recruited muscles, tendencies, thoughts - it's effort in itself.

+++++ NOBODY IS VOTING FOR YOU IN NOVEMBER

You're not a politician, you're an artist. We break artistic promises constantly because every moment is different and new and the job of the artist is to surf that. We change our minds. You're allowed. David Bowie was allowed. Madonna was allowed. We are a profession of flip floppers. Ch-ch-ch change when you feel it.

You can't make people like you. You just can't. You can't make people who won't understand your music, understand your music. Effort spent trying to win votes steals from energy needed for pure expression. You will probably begin your career by promoting yourself on some level sans management or label. Embark upon said career understanding this: Promotion is not about swaying people's musical taste, or altering your music to fit a theoretical audience. It's about taking the music you naturally make and finding it's home.

ON ONE HAND... You may soon find you'll be praised for being you. Be willing to wake up tomorrow and not be 'that guy' that people clapped for. Keep an open mind to the distinct possiblity that you might be moving on. Be willing to release your audience and yourself. Don't try actively to do evolve, just be willing. Some are going to like the way you did it yesterday but they can always relive the magic by listening to your old recordings. When you made those recordings you were likely discovering something in the process. Doing it again is the empty repetition void of discovery. Charting new territory often sounds more like the 'old you' simply because it has the element of discovery. The style may be quite different.

As Robert, Darren and I were getting into recording the new record, we realized that imitating our early selves would be instant death. We didn't know what the hell we were doing when we started and that's part of what made it what it was. So we set out into the unknown in some way with each song. The irony is that the record reminds me most of our first record now.

ON THE OTHER HAND... You will often find yourself being flogged for being you. That's tough but take some solace in knowing that you're on the right track. You're hitting a nerve and that's why people might bother to beat you up some. Anyway, the beater uppers don't really stop to think about the human behind the artist. We're all guilty of being beater uppers from time to time. If you're being used as a standard, take that as a compliment - I've been slow to realize this. An artist on any level is a symbol to people who will never know them personally. Human nature is to express who we are by sometimes exalting or trashing an artist. Being either symbol is a service so just appreciate that someone is working their little thing out somewhere by taking it out on the symbol that is you or your music crap. Punching bags probably keep people off meds.

You can never control what's in or out of style. When you're lucky, your ideas and your style are in. You find your first success when your style is in style. Then, it might recede sometimes. Recently anger went out of style in music and I was apprised of this upon releasing a rather sarcastic record. I felt like a jackass. That record was not quite what most people wanted to hear or feel and maybe it will never be. The actual music wasn't really being criticized - I was personally criticized. Criticism that gets personal invalidates itself, so I shouldn't have let it bother me. Remind me not to do that again. If only a few people cathartically connected to that album (many did), I should have stuck by my guns. I should have said, yeah I was kind of pissed and I made the most of it by writing about it, pounding a piano and making some jokes. It's called expression. One constant about the music business in any era is that the first people to buy your new album do so because they liked your last record. It hurts to disappoint them out of the gate but sometimes you have to. Eventually they'll get over it and those who connected will be grateful that you bothered.

In some cases, parts of your audience will grow WITH you. If you try to second guess all of this and keep your audience, you will lose them instead.

Likewise, avoid engaging in public criticism of other artists. In fact, don't waste your time doing it in private if possible. You'll just embarrass yourself in the long run and put nasty energy out there that comes back. You'll engage in creative bullying. Nobody needs to be told what they can't do. If they can't do, they'll find out. Lift your standing if you must by the quality of your work but not by pushing somebody else down. If for no other reason, it can stifle your own work as you succumb to the idea that there are rules of what sucks and doesn't suck. It's like letting praise get to your head. If you allow that stuff in, you'll also allow the ugly comments in. Contradiction number seven hundred a forty two: Your success depends on what people think... and you're not supposed to care? That's right and good luck.

Wow. How's that for advice. Should I try and be more specific? I hope any of this makes sense. It's the best I can do on the plane.

Again no corrections or reading of this. It's a stream of blog.

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

the left banke

this was actually something i had meant to write about in the middle of february.
i was listening to that week's podcast of this american life and the first story agitated some thoughts that had been simmering in the back of my mind for a while. it brought up some heavy questions that i hoped i had the right answer to yet still found myself wondering.

the guy who was telling the story had talked about how he had been with his girlfriend for 13 years (or so), all through college and several years after. then, taking an idea from the amish custom of allowing teenagers two years to live without the restrictions of their culture, they mutually agreed to take some time apart and enjoy the freedom of being able to meet other people (and the things that go with that, but people with children read this blog, so i won't go any further.)

as he was concluding his story and talking about it with ira, the show's host, he said that when he does get married, he wants to have an agreement that, after seven years, he and his wife have to sit down and discuss things, and if they both want to keep at it, get remarried for another seven years.

this kind of bothered me. i wouldn't want that. i mean, i guess there's something good about being not feeling "trapped" with someone, and i maybe i'm just a deluded single guy who thinks that when you get married, both people actually want to be with each other. and i was beginning to wonder if maybe i had been looking at this love/relationship junk much too heavily. i mean, i didn't think so, but occasionally it occurs to me that i might be wrong about something.

ira's reply to him reaffirmed to me why i dearly love him and his show:

i don't know what i think of that. because i think, actually, one of the things that's a comfort in marriage is that there isn't a door at seven years. and so, if something is messed up, in the short term, there's a comfort of knowing, like, well we made this commitment and so we're just going to work this out. and, like, even if tonight we're not getting along, or there's something between us that doesn't feel right, you have the comfort of knowing we've got time, we'll figure this out, and that makes it so much easier. because you do go through times when you hate each other's guts, and the "no escape" clause, weirdly, is a bigger comfort to being married than i ever would have thought before i got married.

i breathed a sigh of peace.

"really?" replied the storyteller. "i'd never thought of it that way. i like thinking about it that way. you just see so many examples of where people don't think that way."

and yes, he's right. as mike birbiglia put it on this week's rerun, "i never looked anyone that's been married for thirty years and thought, 'i gotta get me some of that!'"

but i believe in the safety of that commitment.
yea, Lord, help Thou mine unbelief.

Monday, April 23, 2012

the passion of jeff

my original project idea fell through.
but my new idea means a lot more to me.
and i'm working with channeled energy for the next few weeks.
there's a fire in me.

sometimes there is love.

sometimes there is art.

Sunday, April 22, 2012

worth the wait

for the vision is yet for an appointed time, but at the end it shall speak, and not lie: though it tarry, wait for it; because it will surely come, it will not tarry.

habakkuk 2:3

Friday, April 20, 2012

somebody that i used to know

"without you, today's emotions would be the scurf of yesterday's."

Thursday, April 19, 2012

impostor's syndrome

as the deadlines for the spring show and internships are approaching and i've been looking at my meager work that i've produced this year, the first few lines of rudyard kipling's "the conundrum of the workshops" have come into my mind:

When the flush of a new-born sun fell first on Eden's green and gold,

Our father Adam sat under the Tree and scratched with a stick in the mould;

And the first rude sketch that the world had seen was joy to his mighty heart,

Till the Devil whispered behind the leaves, "It's pretty, but is it Art?"

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

d.c. part 3: the charlotte airport

sleep for two hours in d.c.
get to the airport very early
remember only taking off in d.c.
and landing in n.c.
get off the plane
attendant greets me in the bathroom
find gate C7
board the plane
realize i'm not holding my carry-on
awkwardly wedge my way out as others are trying get on
hurridly explain my situation to the ladies at the gate
they say the door closes in 8 minutes
frantically run through the airport like the hero of a romantic comedy who's realized that he does love the girl and has to stop her before she leaves on that plane to paris
but i'm only chasing a carry-on bag
still, it's my carry-on bag
get to gate B24

my duffel bag

explain between breaths
they remember my bag
it's now at baggage claim
walk, since i've missed my flight
get my bag
go through security again
peer at what my shoulder bag looks like in an x-ray machine
get a new ticket
no charge : )
find my new gate
buy myself a "naked" fruit smoothie as a reward for not losing my "hatching pete" bag and watch m:i:iii on my ipad.

Monday, April 16, 2012

d.c. part 2: the friends

i regretfully didn't take
a picture in d.c., so here's
me and natalie in l.a.
five years ago.

immediately after i booked my flights, i wished i had waited five more minutes. i'd forgotten that i have some good friends out in the d.c. area and had scheduled things so that i'd be leaving on monday late enough to still go to a couple of classes and was coming back on thursday early enough that i'd still be able to get a few hours in at work. when jess excitedly told me that was just two hours away from d.c. and had monday off, i was kicking myself for the next... well, i kind of still am regretting missing that opportunity, actually. (moon)

thankfully, i was able to see kirk and natalie. kirk and i worked together for months in pre-production on that sister missionary movie that we ultimately ended up not being a part of, and natalie is a continual reminder of just how wonderful a wife can be. when i met them in the hotel lobby, i was immediately reminded of how much i had missed them.

when we got into their car, kirk asked his two daughters who this was. "father goose!" they replied in unison.* what makes this even more impressive is that, the last time i'd seen kirk or his family, their older daughter, salem, was two(?) and we were in town to help with the baby blessing of piper. but they took to me pretty quickly; as i was helping piper get out of the car at the restaurant, she looked at me and said, "father goose, i love you!" now, it's quite possible that she says that to every stranger she's just met, but when she also complimented me on my ring, i considered myself "in."
(*since kirk met me on a movie set where there was another jeff and i was going my nickname, he and natalie have always referred to me as "goose" and it has been agreed for years that that is what their children would call me.)

and i was the popular one of the night, both with the little girls, who were eager to tell me and show me everything, and also with their parents. over dinner at kirk's favorite steak house, things were as they'd always been: rapid fire conversations about three subjects at once, no one missing a beat. we talked about movies, school, dating, work, kids, and whatever else we found room for. it was one of those times where the years that we had been apart simply helped us appreciate each other more. evidencing that, as the girls were finishing off our dessert (i think i had one bite), natalie asked kirk if we could go drive around or do something because she didn't want to take me back yet.

so we did what all good friends do: just drove around virginia and talked as fast as we could, our conversation winding with the backroads. i would've liked to stay out with them all night but kirk had to be up early in the morning and they had an hour's drive back home once they dropped me off. the evening had been a reminder of the friendship that we had an natalie later confessed that, on the drive back, she and kirk talked about how much that they had missed me; funny, i was on the phone in my hotel room, telling a friend pretty much the same thing.

since then, natalie and i have been writing back and forth on facebook and she's invited me back out whenever i get the chance. and that's not too far off; in january, kirk and i had decided that i'd be going out there for thanksgiving.

as much fun as it was to be on set with real cameras again, spending time with them may have been the best part of the trip.

Sunday, April 15, 2012

d.c. part 1: the job

i like to imagine that on friday, april 6, in downtown salt lake, this was the conversation that was taking place:

in a darkly lit and powerful office, the director sits in his chair, looking thoughtfully out the window at the city below.

"we can't do this," says the producer in his british accent. "we don't have the right people."

"no, there is one man who can help us," says the director, still with his back turned.

"him?" asks the producer. "but he quit the life."

"he's the only one who can help us now," the director declares as he slowly turns around in his chair. "call our man in texas."

"he's moved on. he's has a new life now."

"call him."

"but..."

"CALL HIM!!"

at any rate, that friday i had just finished a meeting with my boss at work when i got a call to go help on a shoot in washington, d.c. i asked for a moment to think about it, looked at my schedule for the coming week and realized that i didn't have anything major due in my classes that week, nor had i used any of my two free excuses absences in either weight training or judo. in short, i'd be crazy not to do this.

so, i said yes, the excitedly texted my friends that i would get to be on set again.
and then realized that i probably should've checked with my bosses first, instead of just letting them know that i'd be taking a break from my current, less-exciting yet stable job for my fun and wild ex-job.
they were ok with it.

monday afternoon, i was back living the life. checking in at the airport, basic camera gear in my carry-on, watching my edited copy of inglourious whatevers on my ipad (as excited as i was just to be back on set again, i was almost as excited to be able to watch movies on my ipad on the plane). meeting up with my old friends at the airport and checking in to my room at the hotel, i couldn't help but think: dang, i've missed this.

the next morning was almost surreal: it felt like i'd never left. setting up the camera, running cables, and joking with the director while suggesting lens options; it all came back without missing a beat. the only catch was that in the nearly two years since i'd worked with them, time had gone on and they'd bought new cameras, and i soon found myself staring at this block on technology and wondering how to operate a "red scarlet." i actually had to text a friend in texas to make sure it was all real and that it hadn't been a dream, because it felt like i would be driving back to home at the red door in a few days.

we were shooting a spot for a company called veri-sign. if you've ever used your credit card online, you may have noticed their logo, proving that the site is legit. and over the years that i've shot for them, that's pretty much what i thought they did. we were at their corporate headquarters, a large and modern building with security so tight that we were not allowed to go anywhere without an escort and i every third door we went through seemed to have another security panel on it.

my job was mostly the 2nd unit d.p. i remembered the day when i first worked as a first assistant, feeling the stress of having to make sure the camera was up and running and that i had everything ready that the director would want. and i remembered being the d.p. (on another veri-sign shoot, actually) a few years ago, where the director was telling me his shot ideas and i had to figure out the angles and lighting, and how i missed the carefree job of being a first assistant. and now i was just being handed a brief list of shot possibilities and told to go around just get some amazing shots.
growing up is hard.

my day was kind of constricted by the restriction of needing to have an escort at all times and our escort to crew ratio being woefully low. i did the best i could, with a few shots of the building and signs out front and some ok stuff in the lobby, but... meh. not my finest.

day two, however, was much finer. we shot in a room that didn't look like a place i would expect in a large i.t. corporate headquarters; it looked like how i would hope a control room in a place like that would be. in other words, it looked like the main room of the counter-terrorist unit on 24: lots of desks each with lots of monitors, with low lighting and several giant screens at the front of the room, showing all sorts of statistical information about the life of the internet around the world in really cool graphical displays.

so that was easy to get cool shots of. the rest of the day was spent out at another cooler-than-you'd-dare-to-hope place. in a little, non-descript business park, is a building that had a surprising amount of security for seeming so bland. and is also much larger than it looks from the outside. and through a few hallways and a few more access locks, is a room that looks like one of the back rooms of the matrix: rows and rows of server towers. anytime some gets online and wants to register a new .com or .net website, it goes through that room. so if you want to register a website that ends in .com, like google.com or facebook.com or yousaidyoudbakeusacake.blogspot.com, you're going to register it through them. in short, they kind of control the internet.

i think that they also do something with the traffic of getting you from your computer to the computer that has the .com website you want to visit, but i didn't quite follow that. i did hear that there were three other rooms just like that one, mirroring the information so that if one went down, another would pick up instantly. the location of the fourth room was a mystery.

needless to say, getting cool shots in here wasn't a problem. making it even easier was that i had a talented steadicam guy at my disposal, and he and i spent the afternoon walking through the room, going up and down the aisles, getting all manner of cool shots in this almost kubrickian room.

i loved it.
it was so much fun being on set again. of seeing my friends and laughing as i was changing a lens or pulling focus. and i naturally wondered if i'd made the right choice in leaving all of this. but as i talked with them and they mentioned how last year had been really dry, and i remembered the feeling of not having anything coming up after this, yeah, i'm glad that i'm working towards something better. i made the right choice.

and getting little breaks like this every now and then are enough. as we were parting ways at the d.c. airport, i told them to keep me in mind for the next one.
they said they would.

Saturday, April 07, 2012

the pale blue dot

images of venus and the earth taken with a long lens
have been composited into their relative locations
in this wide-angle photograph

after 12 years in space, the voyager I spacecraft was 3.7 billion miles from earth and nearing the edge of the solar system. despite doing everything possible to use as little power as necessary, at the request of astronomer carl sagan, nasa rotated the satellite's camera to look back at where it had come. the sun flares much of the image, but in all of the grainy noise of that black photograph, taking up 0.12 pixel, is a pale blue dot.

reflecting on what that pale blue dot meant, sagan wrote,

we succeeded in taking that picture [from deep space], and, if you look at it, you see a dot. that's here. that's home. that's us. on it, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever lived, lived out their lives. the aggregate of all our joys and sufferings, thousands of confident religions, ideologies and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilizations, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every hopeful child, every mother and father, every inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every superstar, every supreme leader, every saint and sinner in the history of our species, lived there on a mote of dust, suspended in a sunbeam.

the earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that in glory and in triumph they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of the dot on scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner of the dot. how frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds. our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. in our obscurity – in all this vastness – there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves. it is up to us. it's been said that astronomy is a humbling, and i might add, a character-building experience. to my mind, there is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. to me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly and compassionately with one another and to preserve and cherish that pale blue dot, the only home we've ever known.

pale blue dot: a vision of the human future in space, p.6

and he's right. so much of what we worry about and stress over each day--getting a 74 instead of a 94 on a test, dishes left in the sink, not getting the job we applied for--are easy to see how trivial they are when we realize that all we're fighting for is a moment of minor superiority on that tiny little dot. viewed from way out there, we are nothing.

but we are not worthless.
even though we live on a pale blue dot, even though we are only tiny points on that tiny dot, we are valued. God knows us by name. He knows us personally and closely. He knows what got us excited yesterday and what hurt our feelings today and what we hope for tomorrow. we matter to Him.

Thursday, April 05, 2012

shaking through

"rendering" is the step in computer graphics were all of the information for a scene is processed and the actual image is produced.
"shading" refers to the look of objects in the scene. it's what makes jeans look like denim, sidewalks look like concrete, and e.v.e. look like she was designed in cupertino.
"rendering and shading" is the class i have on tuesday and thursday mornings.

while neither of those are departments i want to ultimately end up in, i believe that the more i know about other departments, the better i can do my own work as part of a studio team. and i'd just like to know how to do that stuff, so i signed up for the class.

throughout the semester, we were to create a scene and improve it each week. the assignments would build off each other; one week we'd just compose the scene with basic objects and simple appearances. then we'd add light and shadows, then textures, reflections, refractions, fur/cloth/hair, and sub-surface scattering, hopefully producing something at the end that would impress dr. ergun akleman.

the key was to not fall behind, yet somehow i did. my first week looked, meh, ok, but so did everyone's, since we were all just getting started. my shadows were alright and i probably thought they were better than they really were, since i like to think i'm good at lighting, but i got it done and made it home sometimes around 6 a.m.

textures were a disaster. once again, i found myself getting off work the evening before they were due and knowing i would not be sleeping that night. i tried to break down my night and pace myself, giving myself an hour and a half to look through the tutorials on how to use the software then another hour and a half for each part of the assignment due at 10:20 the next morning. i stumbled out of the lab again when the sun was coming up and made it back to class a few hours later in time for my work to be critiqued. i had addressed each requirement of the assignment but knew it didn't look good and my teacher agreed: "this looks like c.g., but CG c.g. like 1980s c.g."

he was right. i was ashamed of my scene and i cringed whenever we looked at our work in class; i was clearly in the bottom percentile for quality of work. maybe that computer science kid who had no real aesthetics training might be rivaling me, but i more or less sucked.

i wanted to drop the class. it would give me more time for other classes and projects and i wasn't really showing any promise here, anyway. but i didn't. and when "reflections" were due a few weeks ago, i attacked it. i threw out everything in my shot that wasn't contributing, considered what i could add to make it better, and by the time the sun was creeping back into the lab, i was feeling good about what i had.

yes, there were still plenty of things to be said that needed improvement when my turn for critiques came up, but i didn't shirk in shame. i liked my glass elephant and actually started work on the refractions a few days before they were due, so that last night i only had a few hours of work to do and had some pretty sweet rainbow refractions.

in short, i'm glad i didn't quit when i wanted to.
because it got better.

Wednesday, April 04, 2012

a cat in a bunny hat, a horse in a hole, and johnny depp ironing cheese sandwiches

having a rough day?
click here.

in fact, do it no matter what.
you'll be glad you did.

may or may not be for pleasure alone.

Tuesday, April 03, 2012

False Expectations Appearing Real

driving home with some friends from a movie set a few years ago (dag, it was ten years ago), my friend and i were talking about what scared us when we were kids. for jared, it was werewolves. for me, it was aliens.

aliens scared me to no end. and during the 1990s, they were high in the popular zeitgeist. any movie that dealt with mysterious extraterrestrials terrified me. if i was home alone or lying in my basement bedroom in the dark of night, i expected a light to appear and i would vanish with the malevolent visitors.

why? because there was nothing you could do against them. nothing. vampires can be stopped with garlic or oak stakes or holy water or crosses or sunlight (honestly, how did dracula even get anything done?), werewolves are easily killed with a silver bullet (got that, jared? i don't get why they were scary), and zombies you can kill in just about any way (i think that license to be creative is part of why people like zombie movies.) but when aliens come for you, weird stuff happens, that white light appears, and they're there. you can't fight. there's nothing you can do. you are powerless and at their unknown mercy.

did it start because i saw e.t. when i was three and got scared when he scared elliot in that cornfield? possibly; that moment made me jump until sometime in my teens. i "knew" aliens didn't exist. of course they weren't real. ...but what about those things you couldn't explain? what about those tv specials on fox about crop circles and people who claimed they had been abducted? what if they came for me? what if? what if??
those little thoughts circled and stirred and grew bigger and bigger.
needless to say, on friday evenings when the x-files was on, i would make sure to skip over that channel as fast as possible. that whole bloody show was centered around aliens.

well, i never did get taken by aliens.
nor did i ever see them.
even that shimmering silver object that my mom and i saw hovering over the soccer field is something i still have no explanation for, but life's gone on relatively normally since then anyway.
and sometime during the fourth season, i actually watched an episode of the x-files and wasn't so much scared by it as i was, well, it was awesome. i was hooked. i hung on every cliffhanger until i left for japan on my mission (which is ok, since it kind of tanked after that anyway.)

so i can't help but wonder if the things that i'm afraid of now, the thoughts and worries that circle in the back of my mind and the chambers of my heart, might also be the same. that once i start taking steps toward them and turing on the lights the illuminate those shadowy areas, what if they're also not real? what if they're also just because i saw something once that i didn't understand, or heard something that i couldn't explain and assumed the worst. that because i don't have an answer, the what ifs have again swirled into things scarier and more alien than they really are? is it possible that my fears are exaggerated from what's really out there?

yes, yes it is.

now i'm wishing i hadn't written this so late at night; i'm getting a little creeped out about aliens....

Monday, April 02, 2012

restrained, restraint

when the elephants arrive

i want to see how bright the fire inside me burns

"slide."

Sunday, April 01, 2012

words of wisdom

18 months ago:
conference with my favorite
redhead girls...

(i still miss being in salt lake for conference...)

after years of taking diligent notes on anything that stood out to me during each speaker's talk at conference, i came to the realization that i never really went back to those notes, and that the points that stood out to me would just end up getting highlighted again when i'd study the talks in the next month's ensign anyway.

so i've started trying to write down the thoughts and ideas that come to me as i'm listening, as well as a couple of the biggest things that really stand out to me from the entire session. these aren't all of what i wrote down, but a few of the lessons i want to take with me are:

sacrifice brings for the blessings of heaven
all these things shall give us experience and be for our good
the way through our trials is to believe that there is healing balm ahead and that the Lord will not forsake us
a foundation of faith takes time to build
we receive no witness until after the trial of our faith
those trials seem to make clocks slow down
we are not in a race to see who is the most blessed
the formula of faith is to hold on and press forward
the thing God enjoys most about being God is being merciful
you can't be wrong by doing right
fear departs when faith endures
one of the great lessons that we can learn in life is to ask the Lord
a good sense of humor helps revelation
"don't judge me because i sin differently than you"
we have a deep natural yearning for endless association with our family
so many of the decisions we face each day are really very trivial

and while i've learned over the years to let the continual mentions of delinquent single men to roll off my back, i can't help but wonder: who are these guys that are shirking marriage and giving the rest of us a bad name?