Thankfully I think I've figured out how to make my scanner give me clearer scans.

I'm only putting this here so I can remember.

full/near full opacity=wet brush
low opacity=dry brush


It makes a difference knowing those that actually believe in you.

Looking at my huge sketchbook, I realized that I'm filling up pages at a fast pace. This is good. I'm not rushing when I draw, I'm just drawing a lot. The latest pieces have been concept art. I had some ideas which I felt communicated the epitome of a character well. So I decided to exploit it through designs I was thinking of. My designs are looking entirely different than before. I think about whats hidden, how to make use of space and above all, functionality. This in turn, gives me more to draw, which is good. It also helps that I love drawing mechanical objects such as robots and vehicles.

My huge sketchbook will most likely be filled up within the next 2 weeks if not sooner. I started with this in spring 2001. This has lasted me all through college. I filled up other sketchbooks during the years past, however I always went back to this one usually for leisure. Once it is filled up, I will buy another one just as big if not bigger. I use journals to document, thumbnail, and do quick studies. Its the one I always bring with me. I use the huge sketchbooks to sketch out and experiment. Most of my mechanical design is easier to draw within a larger space. Same goes for characters. Different sizes, different purposes.

Looking back at the pages reveals a lot of thoughts. Each drawing, each sketch; a record of what I was thinking. More symbolism. Symbols that I could figure out. The first drawing dates back to the days where I had a specialized .03mm mechanical pencil that I would always use. I still have it for memory's sake, and because it still works. I barely use it now since its so limiting, but it has a certain "feel" that I never got tired of. It just feels right in my hands.

Going through the book reveals my growth. The first drawings show that I was definitely moving more towards solidarity in my lines. My mecha designs were variable(transformable) for the most part. Character wise, I had a motif where a mask could only cover the mouth. I love this motif. There was a meaning for it, which I was able to build upon some months back. No one has seen it, but its coming.

You can tell by 2002 that I was definitely breaking away from what I knew and trying to basically draw "blind". Basically drawing without any reference to what I knew the previous year before. This would continue for years. Sometimes you have to start from scratch to validate what you already know.

This sketchbook has lasted during the good times, and during the bad. It is a record of it. It has its "valleys", revealing my progress, stalemate, to progress once more. High school was an era when this sketchbook started. College was an era this one endured. Presently is the era in which I combine what I learned from both eras. This is the equivalent of two paths. Two different paths that became one. A path born of learning through trial and error. A path taken by one who lit the fire but turned cold. One who aimed wild; grew tame.

Yet being tame has gone far enough. I did not win those competitions for nothing. I did not study to not try. I did not push myself as stressed as I got for no progress. I did not break free from my passion to not improve. I did not stay strictly focused on one goal for no advancement. I did not keep this dream alive for it not to become reality. I did not switch to something so much easier for the sake of having an easier time making money. I did not travel down this hard path to make everything easy. I did all this because I love it. I did this because no matter what I was doing, it wouldn't stop me from doing this.
I did this because it was the dream I would always want regardless of anything else. I did this because this is the one thing I have never given up on in life. From that fateful day when I was three years old, my friends around me oblivious to my goal, I never wavered. Twenty years ago my destiny was set. Its easier to do other things in life, to become rich, but thats not what I want. I want what I never gave up on. This is something I will always want. This is a constant, this is an infinte. This is the truth.

A lion grown tame waits to roar each day it stays silent. Its mane grows as it ages, its teeth sharpened for the next competition. The long mane shows the years that pass by, the experience accumulated. The teeth never show when he doesn't roar. There is a field, he is alone, its been too long. He keeps waiting for the day to roar once more. For he is one born wild, but grown far too tame.

Tameness; thats a characteristic not fitting for me. No. The world never notices the lion if he is not heard. The cave can encase the entire scope of lessons learned; wisdom unseen. Yet the world doesn't embrace it since it is unseen. To wait for the day means for nothing to exist, for if it is not seen, how is one to know it even exists?

I need to get back into it; enter the competitions. So here we go. I am basically making an opportunity that is yet to exist. I am running in a race unofficially announced. I am irritated, angry. I am tired of being doubted, I've had enough of it. I've had enough of hearing from people who try to tell me what I do, and yet know nothing of it. If you're going to come with it, come with, if not stay out of the battlefield.

I'm tired of not competing; not entering competitions. You know what? I'm ready. This is life after college. This is the time to show the world my canvas, no longer empty. This is the time to see where my accumulated lessons take me. This is the time to see what I've got.

I've seen competitions won by some who don't even try. Some who don't even bother to respect themselves nor their work. Some who don't even put in the effort to improve. Those who get by just because of popularity because the majority of their audience is oblivious to tradition and innovation. Then I come around. Then I speak my thoughts. Then I get chastized. Judging from what I have witnessed, some people don't want to hear, nor see the truth. This is the truth. I am being honest. I'm sick of hearing people label themselves what they are not. Winning is great, I've felt it before, but thats no excuse for me to slack off. No excuse for me to stop trying, and just keep entering in the same stuff. No excuse for me to become sloppy and tell people to accept it because of my previous accomplishments. If you don't respect yourself enough to strive, then do everyone a favor and stay out. Don't even bother getting in. Don't waste your audience's energy; let their eyes feast on something else, not a waste of time. Do something else. Its a lot easier making a ton more money in other ways, and besides, if your one of the people I mentioned, you're not going to stick with it anyways! So why bother wasting your time? If you've got a position a lot of striving people would want, you'd better work hard. Its no reason for you to slack off, not when I know a ton of people who would strive and do a better job. Not when I know artists who actually care about their work.
Theres a difference between being truly good at what you do, and thinking your good just because you dare label yourself an artist and your friends are easily duped into believing you. The tools don't make an artist, niether do labels, niether does popularity. The faults of an amateur are the most easily seen; most attempts at coming off professional by amateurs are way overdone.

I am tired of waiting for the right opportunity to re-emerge. I am tired of saying "oh next time I'll be ready". You know what? I'm ready now. The last time I actively competed was in 2001. Ever since then I was excited to test out everything new I learned in college. I have yet to do so. I'm too angry to look back, I can only look forward.

I emerge from the cage, I tear off my leash with my fangs. I gnaw on it. I break the chains. I spit it out in the cage. I leave it there as I walk out. No longer will these chains bind me. 6 years is enough. I feel the light pierce my eyes; soon the world will see me, but for now, I see it. I open my mouth, and finally roar.

To wait is to not be seen. To not be seen ceases the existence of talent.

What the 4&1/2 years has taught me is this:

I learned.

Contests are coming up. Waiting to hear back from possible leads. In the meantime, I've realized that I drew a lot during the past week. I didn't really notice until I looked into my giant sketchbook. I was sketching like a mad man. Thumbnailing is good for ideas, its immediate and you have so many ideas to work from. Each idea could potentially become a final piece.

I got in the mood for painting of some sort. I am remembering everything Mr. Pratt, Mr. Bostic, and Mr. Foster taught me in regards to painting and will explore this more.

So I decided today that I might deviate from what I originally planned for a contest entry. I looked for my trusty tablet. Found it nearby. However, everything was going fine until I realized;


my tablet pen was missing! Of all the things to lose, I lose that. I am not sure where it is but as usual it will probably turn up when I do not look. So in addition to my tiny journal sketchbook, I have now lost my tablet pen. This is irritating! In other good news I finally found my pencil sharpener that I used in school. Why is this important? Its a sharpener that is reliable and made of steel. It won't snap pencil points in half like the crappy ones I used to have. It also has storage for shavings and 2 insertion points per different pencil size. Next to it I found my Mars staedler pencil case with pencils. Then my prismacolor watercolor pencils.

I'm angry about losing my tablet pen. Its an old set altogether, I got it in 2001. Nonetheless it still works great. At the time, it was one of the first wireless pens with pressure sensitivity. Sure it is probably outdated, but it works completely fine. It does what I want it to do. Something small and lost. I hope its easily found but, it is small.

This did not stop me from experimenting. I went about the old fashioned way; using a mouse. I can see why some artists stick solely to it, it forces you to slow down and take your time. In the end, for what I am trying to accomplish in my present piece, a pen is the better way to go. Different purposes, different tools.

I hope I find my pen soon. Not to mention I absolutely hate losing things. This goes from action figure accessories to art supplies.

Oh and add to that, my trusty Epson printer does not work. Great. While printing off some resumes, it suddenly resorted to printing nothing. I tried fixing it like I did before, going about the normal routine. No joy. Does this put a huge damper on my plans? Yes. Not only did I need it, but I hate seeing electronics mess up like that. Just as much as I hate losing things. Not to mention, when it worked, it was the best printer. It gave me absolutely no problems. Professional quality prints. I looked online for information and it turns out that as good as it is, it has a fatal flaw. Its print head can clog up easily. Opening this thing up is not what I want to do. Heck its not something anyone is supposed to do really. I hope for the best and it can be fixed as easily as last time.

Lately I've had a resurgence in wanting to experiment with illustration. This is something I did in Sterling's class last semester. This is the solution to find out what I can do. I want to compose one piece where it becomes a virtual record of everything I did in the course of its completion. The key is to never destroy what has already been put down. I once wrote in my artist statement that "the only way to know is to keep drawing". Its true. This is a catalyst for my my personal pieces and everything else. I will return to doing personal pieces as it has been years since creating a final piece in that genre. Creative expression is what I love. Symbolism and the like. What I like about personal pieces is that they can be mysterious. I remember one in particular that I made in 2005.
If you knew what the symbols meant, you'd figure the entire thing out. For the most part. Everything including the vertical placement of the structures, to the figures, was all planned out for symbolism and cohesion. All the elements in unison to show the underlying message. Come to think of it, there may have been 2 pieces like that in said sketchbook.

Late last night I came upon something which catalyzed another idea. I found another venue for jobs. Something I grew up with. Something I never really thought about until last night. Something that I might ideally be fit for, not to mention something I love doing. Something that my work may have been suited for all along. This is one of the missing pieces. This is one of the answers long sought after. It is one thing:

an opportunity.

After years of waiting I have a resolve,
I will be the first.

So after more spiritual searching and realizations I have come upon more inner truths.
I always feel like I am in an endless race; always running. As if I am on the catapult, about to launch, but often wondering when the time is right. When will I be ready? So much anticipation, and anxiousness develops within me. With that, I see my life and the the truths of it.


Asthma was a physical resemblance of what I feel psychologically. The quest of perfection combined with impatience was my drive to improve. This made it impossible for me to ever give up. My repeated attempts at validating my actions was to see what was needed, and what wasn't. In a sense, seeing what worked, and doing away with what didn't. I moved in cycles to add to my arsenal of techniques. The past is not what we think, for it is actually a record to reinforce the present. In fall 2005 I had finally conquered what had binded me since the start of my adulthood. At that point I knew, I had total control, if I wished.

The years I waited and stood as a observer proved me well. It prepared me for what would come. I saw what would last, and what disintegrated. To bring my work into view would be too premature at that point, so I held it back.

For 4 years I did away with what I did know, and shoved myself into uncomfortable territory. Learning from scratch. The equivalent of a bird born blind but learning to use its eyes as it opens them for the first time. I knew this had to be done to get better. There was no other way. I transformed in 2002 from being relaxed to sprinting into a race that never ends....

Shortness of breath. A direction that never ends. A path with an infinite length. A burning microcosm from within that constantly demands improvement. Keep running. Keep running.

A fire that burns to coldness; ice that inevitably cracks.
A key made from brazen fire, one that never cools off.

A rebirth of the form taken during fall,
it demands of me, I must answer this call.
A repition of a time I said I'd never reenter to eradicate the strain,
but everytime away from it is felt with disdain.
A cycle of steam and anger amiss,
this is the only way to reach bliss.

Just turn the key, but when?

Felt more alive with the five
Must nix when it hit six
The third in seven, this is it, this must be heaven.