Good riddance. It’s been a difficult year, to say the least. Maybe the hardest of my life. Despite it all though, there were still some pretty bright spots that burned in the dark.
Two good friends got engaged. Another two got married. Moved into a new apartment. Visited Ireland, New York City, Chicago, Seattle, Palms Springs, Tahoe, Solvang and St. Petersburg. Got to know my future brother in-law. Went spelunking for the first time. Made some art that I’m proud of. And above all else, I got engaged to the woman I love.
It’s enough to think 2016 would’ve been one of my best. But like I said, It’s been a hard one, and I’m ready for a fresh start.
I recently started playing with a new software tool called Octane Render. Pretty unbelievable what it can allow you to create.
The impact on my career and day to day workflow is hard to quantify. Simply put, something that might’ve taken me an hour to render, might now take only a minute or two, and look much better. I’m in the business of making things look good, as fast as possible, so this is a great thing.
That said, I’m going to try and make it a point to create things in this medium as often as I can for the time being. At least until I feel like I have some control over it. They say practice makes perfect. I say perfect makes money.
Besides, it’s just plain fun for me.
Inspired by our move to a new apartment.
There was a time I had no more than two plates, two bowls, a mug, and just a few forks, knifes and spoons. Only a few glasses too, most of which were just old pickles jars. Occasionally had to offer a drink served in measuring cup.
It was a much simpler and much lonelier time. Thankfully, we all grow up.
Dug through some old drives and found some of my student projects. This was for my Adobe Illustrator class. The assignment was to redraw a photographic image using only vectors, while trying to make it as realistic as possible.
Of course I knew the result wasn’t realistic, but it was the best I could do at the time, and I was pretty proud of it. Ten years later, thought it’d be fun to recreate it.
The image on the left was made over the course of about 2-3 weeks. The one on the right was made in a little under two hours. Still not quite photorealistic, but everybody’s gotta start somewhere.
Maybe I’ll give it another go in another ten.
Hell, did that take a long time.
Six Foot Giraffe last saw a major redesign almost 5 years ago. It’s been long overdue to say the least.
I’ve made a lot of work over the years, and now I have tools in place that can help people (and myself) find things they’ve forgotten, or just plain never seen. Posts can have a lot more depth now too. I can write and show more, in higher detail.
A lot has changed and a lot hasn’t. There’s a lot of nuances, and there’s still work to do, but in the meantime, I’m getting back to the art.
Hope you like it.
My Uncle Tony, technically my Great Uncle, passed in April. I’d bet anything he’d want to be celebrated, not morned. So I’m gonna try my best here.
No matter what room he was in, his laugh was the loudest thing in it, and he was always laughing. He slept with a few thousand refrigerator magnets under his mattress because he said it helped his back. He was a character to say the least.
When we’d show up to visit, between my brother and I, he’d give one a BB gun, and the other a spear tied to one of our ankles. He’d tell us to go have some fun and catch something. He had a dock out back where the waters eventual led to the Gulf of Mexico. There was always a lot of fishing.
I learned for the first time I could swim without sinking in his pool. The same pool he told my brother and I had the “red dot” technology, so he’d know if we ever peed in it. We were mortified.
He and my dad would take us to watch the greyhounds race at the track. We always had ice cream and Uncle Tony always had a cigar.
He gave me my first magnifying glass and my first pocket knife. Still have the magnifying glass. He gave us a lot of great memories, the kind you never lose.
He died on a cruise ship in the Caribbean. Honestly, I can’t imagine a more fitting way for him to go. He was a man full of life, till the very end.
Godspeed Uncle Tony.
My brother and I on Uncle Tony’s dock.