Drew-Tron: The Blog

NEW ANIMATION!

2007-04-24T18:24:00.000-07:00

This is my second and by far my best:

UPDATE! Here's a third:

My Very Own Experimental Animation

2007-04-23T15:52:00.000-07:00

Here is my experimental animation. No, really. It's really experimental--its not just a term I'm throwing around to make myself seem nice and pretentious. Anyway, it goes perfectly with Squarepusher:

PIKAPIKA!

2007-04-17T16:49:00.000-07:00

I want to learn how to do this:

UPDATE:
Here's my first feeble attempt at an animation:

I Loves Me Some Line Drawings...

2007-04-06T03:31:00.000-07:00

Recently I've been doing some drawings in Photoshop using, oddly enough, the line tool. It's fast, fun, and easy. Here are a few I've done (The first two of me, the last of a friend, because she's been hounding me for a drawing, and yes, I am the mustachioed guy at the bottom):

Happy Birthday!

2007-03-28T09:00:00.000-07:00

Here's the birthday poem I wrote a couple of months ago. Basically, to do this, you take the numbers of your birthday, and use these as the number of syllables per line. All zeros become tens. Here she goes:

"Is it to go out with a whimper or
A
Bang?"
Is what I ask the statue.
She
Just stares at me with blank, carved eyes
Neither grinning nor shedding a
Heavy granite tear down her carved face.

FARKED!

2007-03-26T15:29:00.000-07:00

I found one of the funniest Fark threads I've ever read. It's about six years old, but goddamn is it hilarious: Read it here.

And here is its successor.

THREADLESS!

2007-03-12T17:41:00.000-07:00

Okey-dokey. I gots me some new Threadless shirts. Check, check it, yea:

I wasn't too sure about the last one until I saw it in the user photos. It really looks like a hole in side the wearer's chest, as emo as that sounds. It's pretty neat.

I Love Nonsense

2007-03-06T08:40:00.000-08:00

Toast: A Poem About.

Turned
Over
And
Slightly brown.
Take the knife.

The God's Name is Abraxas

2007-03-04T22:50:00.000-08:00

Here's the poem I wrote about Hermann Hesse's novel, Demian. I had to shrink the font size of the post (because it won't let my select the size for only a portion, those bastards) because some of my lines are too long. Anyway, it's long, but enjoy:

DEMIAN

A long way back into ancestral times, or to when I took my first breath,

But my story is the story of a Man, and closer it'll take me to death.

In two realms we begin, one light, one dark and into both I dabble.

In one is home and mom and dad, the other blood and gravel.

Into the darkness I fell, a story of stolen apples in a sack

And with Kromer at my heels, I knew there was no turning back.

It was then that Demian appeared, and became the center of much talk;

He stopped me after school, mature as he was, and showed me the Sparrow Hawk

And the mark of Cain, so he told me, was not quite what it seemed,

For it stood as an air: the impressiveness for which most men dreamed.

But back to Kromer I crawled, to him more payments I made,

And for my ignorance and arrogance, the lightness continued to fade.

Then Demian came back.

I talked to him for a while and he drug out all my fear,

And out of my life, amazingly, Damien made Kromer disappear.

I confessed my sins of stealing to my father and my mother, too

And into the light I returned, shining brightly like the new.

And Demian seemed to disappear.

And into my adolescence, women made me perspire

And in the darkness I found my sexual desire.

A big step arrived, and my Conformation classes began,

and once again I found him, although we weren't immediately friends.

Not 'til Cain's mark was mentioned, which certainly not by chance,

We happened to look at one another, a momentary glance.

We then began discussing, like Dante would agree,

that the ones who don't stick to a side, are the worst of the three.

And as Conformation grew nearer, and my religiousness began to wane,

Damien and I began to grow apart and disappeared did he again.

I was sent to boarding school.

At school I never quite fit in, as rather unusual, not fine,

That is until I met Beck, and he took me to drink wine.

And then I became lost, fitting in as a drunk

Loosing my self into the drink in which I had sunk.

Then I found Beatrice.

Beatrice was the name I gave her, though I never found the nerve

to talk to her, but even still she managed to serve

as beacon for me to find myself once again.

Both sides she represented

And in that I never resented

My state of consciousness again

And so I began to paint.

I created a face, one which I learned so well

In in the face was reflected both heaven and hell

Woman and man

Max Demian.

One night I had a dream of the Sparrow Hawk above my door

Back at the house which I used to so adore.

I painted it as suddenly as I could, and emerging from a sphere

The Sparrow Hawk sprouted and so I sent it from here

To Max Demian.

It was some time later, during one of my many classes

I found a note from Demian, about the god Abraxas.

The Sparrow Hawk was emerging from the Earth, destroying it in its wake

And there if flew to the God whose name still makes me quake.

Both sides it holds, much like the painting of my mind

of Demain and Beatrice, and others of the kind.

Soon, in my loneliness so dread, I met a dear new friend

By the name of Pistorius he was, and my life he helped to mend.

And over time, he helped me very much to break free

And though I eventually out grew him, I'll never forget he.

Before I started at the University, I sought Demian, by dream brother,

And it was at his old house that I found my painting was of his mother.

I longed to find her though I wasn't sure what she would make me to be

However I didn't see her until I found Demian at the University.

I talked to Demian of the herd instinct of the man by which we were surrounded,

Those without the mark of Cain, were easily confounded.

Demian then showed me his home.

The next day I stopped by and there I met, Demian's mother

She told me to call her Frau Eva.

In the garden I talked to Demian, and there I was told

That I was given her true name the very first meet, the only to hold.

Over time I grew to love her,

my beloved Frau Eva

And during the summer

I met many free thinkers

but none so quite above her.

She seemed to know all about me, my motives and for those I cared,

She knew that I loved her, more than I could bare

But it wasn't strong enough.

During one day, Demian slipped into a trance

One that I had seen by chance

During our days of school.

I then wandered out the house to the storm brewing outside,

And there I saw my Sparrow Hawk in the clouds above so high.

Demian too, had felt something ominous.

Something was going to happen soon.

Soon, the summer came and there I spent every day, at Demian's abode,

Carefree as I was though eventually, a melancholy inside me rose.

I called for Frau Eva, with all the strength I could,

But instead in rode Demian, with news that would

turn any man's blood cold

No matter how young or old,

And from out my chest, my beating heart was tore

by the imminent news of grizzy, bloody war.

With hope we held that once all was said and done,

That a new era of humanity would bring us all as one.

It was soon after that I was unfortunately informed

That my dear old friend was a lieutenant,

And would surely be deployed.

Later, at dinner, Frau Eve in me confided

That I could call for her, if I wished,

From the war divided.

And in the war divided, a world of horrible harm

I was told one evening to tirelessly guard a farm

In in the sky so dark, eventually appeared

The image of Frau Eva and from it I was speared

By a bright hot star, launched from the mark of Cain

And soon I awoke from the darkness into a world of pain.

There I willed what I wanted.

I awoke from semi-consciousness into a hospital complex

And beside my lay dear Demian, whose presence did not perplex.

He asked if I remembered Kromer.

Soon he told me he had to leave, but before he had to part,

That if I ever needed him, I need only look in my heart.

He gave me a kiss from Frau Eva.

The next day I looked at the bed beside me, as my wounds were being dressed,

And in Demian's bed lay a stranger, not the man whose lips had pressed

Against

Mine as his own and as Frau Eva's.

He still resides in me as myself, my brother, my master.

The Sketch-A-Thon!

2007-03-02T20:52:00.000-08:00

Alright, and here they are, the fantastic sketches for Damien 137 (and some friends), of NUMBER-137 fame (the friends...not so much):

This first one is the most helpful of them all. It should give you a fairly good outline of the suit's torso:

Next here, we have a basic (i.e. pretty crappy, but useful) sketch of a simplified, overall look for the suit...drawn to the best of my abilities, so please, please use you artistic license:

Here's Damien... With a dragon. Which isn't in the story. Why is there a dragon? I have no fucking idea:

This has nothing to do with Damien... It's a skeleton. But I thought it channeled the same spirit, so feel free to pull from it as needed:

Pretty much the same idea as the one above; take what you want from it:

Same idea... Only with another dragon, I guess:

Finally... Another thing that has nothing to do with Damien... But it's kind of neat and looks like an Evangelion. But in any case, once again, you know the drill:

Anyway, that just about does it. Just remember, the suit is organic-ish, so it is flexible. There really doesn't need to be any sort of "fabric" parts over the joints per se, maybe just thinner points in the material. I'll do some more sketches in time, but that's what I've got for now. Good luck!

...Said The White Rabbit.

2007-03-02T16:43:00.000-08:00

Alright, to start things off, I'm going to go ahead and post a poem a wrote a few days ago for AP English. It's a Pantoum about Alice in Wonderland, amongst other things. It's best read aloud, so I suggest you do so. Enjoy:

WONDERLAND

When you finally drop through the rabbit hole
Into this dark, mysterious world,
Be sure to forget all your goals,
For our morals here are quite twirled.

Into this dark, mysterious world,
Where everything’s inside-out,
For our morals here are quite twirled,
And they’ll burn you ‘til you shout.

Where everything inside-out
And dark, and twisted, grotesque,
And they’ll burn you ‘til you shout,
And squeeze you ‘till you can’t protest.

And dark, and twisted, grotesque,
Be sure to forget all your goals
And squeeze you ‘till you can’t protest,
When you finally drop through the rabbit hole.

Ta-da!

Uh, okay.

2007-03-02T14:31:00.000-08:00

Yeah, I mostly made this so I could comment on Justin's blog... but, hey... What the hell: I'll use it for writing. Until then, here's a Squarepusher video:

Alright, then.