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IT'S ALL DONE!
1 min read
I'm so glad I finished that "Satyr" artwork (in my Gallery if you're really curious). I don't know how long it took me, but I'm sure it ate up tons of time. I'm pretty relieved.
I wonder if I should send it to my old professor. He really seemed to like it (while it was being created) and he never really got to see it finished...
I wonder if I should send it to my old professor. He really seemed to like it (while it was being created) and he never really got to see it finished...
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PLEASE RESTRAIN YOURSELF FROM THE URGE TO FLAME/KILL/MAIM/MUTILATE/MOLEST/ETC. ME FOR SAYING THIS:
At the end of high school I hated anime with a passion. I thought it was the most superficial, childish, nerdiest, bloated, lowbrow thing to ever grace print, film, and other media. I saw it as a mess of metal-plated headbands impaled with hundreds of bland frosted breadsticks and wallowing in mess of chatspeak, cheesy fandubs, and sappy fanart.
I don't know how it happened. Maybe it was from being flooded from too many cookie-cutter Youtube AMVs. Maybe it was from being offended/harassed by hardcore anime fans. Or maybe it was from losing some of my friends because their interest in the stuff grew embarrassingly weirder, and weirder, and weirder...
Whatever the reason may be, I thought I'd rather slit my wrists than become interested in the Japanese import. The fans would never convince me.
A FUNNY THING HAPPENED
I took a trip to the Museum of Contemporary Art one day a couple years ago. They had Takashi Murakami exhibiting work. I never saw any of his work or knew what to expect, so you can imagine how I felt when the doors opened and I came face-to face with his "My Lonesome Cowboy" sculpture (I suggest referring to Google Images if you don't know what it is). I thought the trip would be a trip to Hell.
The style, the passion, the expression hit me. I laughed at the animated videos, I stared at the towering pieces and walls of colorful creatures, I contemplated every synopsis/explanation I read and I was so mesmerized by it all. There was something about it that well...changed me.
When it was time to leave, I felt like I was going to miss it.
By the time I got home, I did a little more dabbling into the anime scene. One thing would lead to another and well, I ended up watching anime on Youtube, something once forbidden in the past. Hmmm, maybe my hatred of anime wasn't mostly because the fans took anime too far.
I probably I just disliked it for little reasons (which grew into all-out hatred.)
SO HERE I AM TONIGHT
The hatred isn't here. Rough original anime sketches lay on my desk. '"s"peEd' (Serial Experiments Lain OST) has just started playing on my Walkman. A JPEG of N.G.E.'s NERV logo is saved in a folder on my PC.
I'm still a newcomer to this stuff, though. I've developed an interest in some animes that have yet to be watched or read more, and currently I'm looking around to find out what genre suits me best.
But just to end it all before hitting the sack tonight...
...I decided not to slit my wrists.
At the end of high school I hated anime with a passion. I thought it was the most superficial, childish, nerdiest, bloated, lowbrow thing to ever grace print, film, and other media. I saw it as a mess of metal-plated headbands impaled with hundreds of bland frosted breadsticks and wallowing in mess of chatspeak, cheesy fandubs, and sappy fanart.
I don't know how it happened. Maybe it was from being flooded from too many cookie-cutter Youtube AMVs. Maybe it was from being offended/harassed by hardcore anime fans. Or maybe it was from losing some of my friends because their interest in the stuff grew embarrassingly weirder, and weirder, and weirder...
Whatever the reason may be, I thought I'd rather slit my wrists than become interested in the Japanese import. The fans would never convince me.
A FUNNY THING HAPPENED
I took a trip to the Museum of Contemporary Art one day a couple years ago. They had Takashi Murakami exhibiting work. I never saw any of his work or knew what to expect, so you can imagine how I felt when the doors opened and I came face-to face with his "My Lonesome Cowboy" sculpture (I suggest referring to Google Images if you don't know what it is). I thought the trip would be a trip to Hell.
The style, the passion, the expression hit me. I laughed at the animated videos, I stared at the towering pieces and walls of colorful creatures, I contemplated every synopsis/explanation I read and I was so mesmerized by it all. There was something about it that well...changed me.
When it was time to leave, I felt like I was going to miss it.
By the time I got home, I did a little more dabbling into the anime scene. One thing would lead to another and well, I ended up watching anime on Youtube, something once forbidden in the past. Hmmm, maybe my hatred of anime wasn't mostly because the fans took anime too far.
I probably I just disliked it for little reasons (which grew into all-out hatred.)
SO HERE I AM TONIGHT
The hatred isn't here. Rough original anime sketches lay on my desk. '"s"peEd' (Serial Experiments Lain OST) has just started playing on my Walkman. A JPEG of N.G.E.'s NERV logo is saved in a folder on my PC.
I'm still a newcomer to this stuff, though. I've developed an interest in some animes that have yet to be watched or read more, and currently I'm looking around to find out what genre suits me best.
But just to end it all before hitting the sack tonight...
...I decided not to slit my wrists.
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