Respect the Process

Story Time.

"...and that was how I bested Ole Hare Boskins," Grandpa Figgins looked off into the distance as if the room extended for miles, holding high his most prized possession.

"Are you joking?" Miles asked. "The Mr. Boskins? He was the fastest Hare on the planet!"

"No, no I'm not. He had never learned..." Grandpa's voice trailed off, gazing into his golden prize.

"What? What Grandpa?"

"The race is not always given to the swift. Here, child, you take this now. Past glories serve only as painful memories." Miles gently grasped the medal as if receiving a newborn. "Now, you should head home, your mother will be worried sick."

Miles strolled out the door, down the walkway, and through Farmer York's gate. A blue ribbon hung 'round his shell, at its crest was his Grandpa's prized medal. He stopped just inside the gate caught in its glow, lost in its shine, so much so that Miles failed to see the danger just up the path.

Okay, so I know it's kind of weird to be "writing" the story out, but I thought that it would help you further understand our plan, and what this video game we are working on is truly about. I trust that it kept your interest long enough to finish at least this post. Oh, and here's another concept art piece thing.

3.33333 times as SWEET!

Lo and Behold I have done it again...literally, done it again. What is it, you may ask. IT is a miracle of my innovation and proof of my genius...Lo and behold, I have finished the Tortoise Run animation, and the Tortoise Walk animation again, but this time I prepared them for in-game use. The first time I accomplished said triumph, it was merely for the title screen and nothing else, thus making this victory taste approximately three point three three three three three times as sweet.

Now you're probably looking at last weeks post and thinking, old news right?...WRONG. On top of all the coloring that I had to finish, I also had the pleasure of erasing, very tightly mind you, around each and every image. FUN FUN FUN! This time, I will spare you the stupid pictures of each animation.

Instead, I share with you, an unfinished load screen painting, or concept art piece. I'm not quite sure what this piece will be used for, but I liked making it, and plan on finishing it when I get back in Jersey this 11th. For those of you who are fans of Rocky or, just people that are familiar with the Rocky films, it is kind of a spoof off the famous training montage. Our beloved Tortoise being really quite fat and out of shape, has collapsed in a sweaty stupor too tired to even hold up his arms. His buddy the squirrel does it for him. I'm pretty sure that at this current point in time, I, myself, would be best represented by the tortoise in this picture. No, I'm not fat, but out of shape, yes...YES! Without any further ado...

Monotony: The path to Success?

When all the world seems monotonous and boring, and you find yourself stuck in the same pattern day in and day out; when your work seems to be meaningless and repetitive, and your heart is heavy with the burden of self pity, think on this and be glad. Your day HAD to be less tedious and repetitive than mine!

Oh man, my brain hurts just looking at all those turtles. The first one looks like the mummer's parade gone wrong. So many fat colorful people except without the instruments, it makes my head spin. Looks like the biggest loser filmed in a fun house. Jamie Kennedy called and said he wanted his shell back. The last animation looks like some weird pre-pooping ritual only to find he was constipated......Still, I triumph. Who needs to fight cancer when they can go to battle with possibly the most inefficient animation procedure known to man. I was so bored while doing this, that somewhere in the middle I was making up sayings like, "the path to greatness is paved with stones of discipline," or "He who perseveres, is revered." I challenge you to explain a more repetitive day than this...go for it.

As a planted seed...

I would love to say that my day was full of crazy adventures; that I climbed a mountain or ran a marathon; that I saved a child's life with my surgical expertise, or created some sort of affordable prosthetic that trumped nature's original design. I would like to report of my courage and bravery and boast of supreme daring when faced with my own mortality. I would like to, but alas, I cannot. My story is one of a much subtler nature. While I, unfortunately, cannot claim to wrestle life's intensities, I have a story nonetheless. Brace yourselves, and remember to not only engage in my wonderfully crafted tales, but also to look betwixt and beneath the text so that you may wrap your mind around their true message.

"Two eggs--two eggs, one orange package of dried noodles, and two cups of water is all it takes for palatial greatness," I would have said to Mike, only I told him yesterday, and the day before that of the amazing quality product Marauchen peddles, just to be informed that my buddy Ramen had been making shady deals with a chemical known by the name of MSG. This time I just watched the water boil. If I was going to make a rendez-vous with Ramen, it would be made with intentional ignorance.

As I gazed into the bubbling water, feeling the steam rise to my face I noticed a baby on the floor to my left. Clark, as we like to call him, was making bubbly noises with his lips while attempting to climb up the refrigerator. A master of the baby chub and the slobber stain, Clark had yet to find his niche in the art of standing. Mike rushed from his computer station to gently set him back on the floor, which apparently was just an invitation to attempt the refrigerator tripod again. Shortly after, Clark found himself in his playpen. Clark forgot his pal refrigerator.

I enjoyed Ramen's company until all his broth was gone, and I returned to my work station. A tortoise and a squirrel were suspended mid stroke underneath a brightly-colored river trying to swim across my screen. I picked up my wacom pen, and resumed my painting, all the while awaiting my next meeting with Ramen and pondering what role he would play in my future. Supposing Mike and I succeeded in our plans, would I trade Ramen for a Subway hoagie, or maybe a spaghetti and clams at the local bistro...nah, we had something special, something real, we had...history.