(no subject)

Jul 22, 2005 03:55

It's about four in the morning. By all rights, I should be happily asleep and I really wish I were. But I'm not so we aaaaalll get to suffer through my ramblings about whatever happens to cross my mind.

Like my block. I have a new tablet and yet I'm having problems drawing. Or, to be more precise, when they sketch or roughing doesn't look satisfactory to me, I just close the program in a fit of rage and don't save the progress. I think I've lost half a dozen drafts this week alone in this manner. When I'm drawing on paper, I'm not nearly so lazy. . . probably because I've been using nice watercolor paper lately which means I get rather insistant about it working at least on some level. Computers make it both easier and harder.

Easier because I have access to a much wider array of toys to play with. More types of paper, an infinite number of colors, a god awful amount of tools (some of which I'd never THINK to use), and layers. Oh how I love layers. Those don't exist in real life, no matter how mcuh I wished they did. Not sure you like it? Turn off the layer and see what it looks like -without- it. Scared of screwing up the entire drawing with one errant stroke? ctrl + z then. or make a new layer and experiment on it. If you don't like it, then just delete and the problem is solved!

And harder. . . it doesn't seem to make sense after what I said in the last paragraph, does it? But really, maybe there's almost too -many- choices, to say nothing for the lack of connection you can feel in comparison to working on normal paper. It doesn't feel the same as scratching around desperately with that little mechanical .5 pencil, trying to get a -good- drawing out before you completely destroy the paper you're sketching on. And you paid for those materials. You're gonna want to use them -well- and correctly. So you work more carefully and if there's an error? There's no taking it back, only 'fixing' it (this requires imagination, something that I typically lack).

and I hate clothing folds ;.;

They're so complex in their casualness! You never think about what your clothes are doing (unless they're coming off) so it's only when you become desperate to emulate their behavior on paper that you find how mysterious their ways are. It can all make sense in your head and be there. . . and when it comes time to draw them, all that flops out is party confetti. "Happy fuck-up!" "Fooled ya!" This leads inevitably to half-hearted attempts at drawing the folds, only to make them look as flaky as my aunt. A winner is Not-You.

Perhaps on the up-side is the fact that I am no longer employed by my slave-drivers (though I intend to go crawling back for the holidays). The downside is that this is at least in part to my purchasing four books (two of which have already arrives). And why, dear god, why, would I do that? Because I need to begin writing my paper for Environmental Policy. It sounds insane, doesn't it? But he emailed our syllabus to us literally early this month or late LAST month *doesn't want to check*. the guidelines are already there, he told us to start now, and given how 'particular' he's choosing to be about the papers, I can certainly see WHY. For someone like me, the biggest issue perhaps lies in the fact that he's told us that if we research on the internet, we're "already going in the wrong direction." In short, he wants us to go library-trawling.

. . . but all the up-to-date information is found online! Never mind the fact that he regularly sends us articles from websites.

*hiss* ¬¬

Truly, I'm glad to be free of my place of employment. My faith in humanity wasn't high to begin with. . . it'd actually gotten better (despite the Bush administration's efforts) over the course of the last year or so. Working where I did for a week or two set that straight fairly quickly. It also provided a prime example of why I don't particularly care for children. Because they're mannerless little heathens that deserves to be backhanded ¬¬

Of course, the same could be said for a member or two of the staff.

I will call her Anna. Anna is not well-liked by those of us who tend to sit like good little boys and girls at our registers a majority of the time. Why is this? She doesn't seem to like to work. If you send her on a round around the store to check some things, she won't come back for at least half an hour, she answers her cellphone at work and at her register, talks incessantly to those on the phone, will sit at the stand and watch the cameras while they're already manned while the rest of us have people in our lines. GodDAMMIT, woman, be USEFUL ¬¬

On my last day, the Evil Overlord still found something to correct me on. . . . he and I never particularly got along. I'm not surprised. At least I heard that the distaste was a mutual one. When I know someone doesn't like me, and I feel the same, I feel a bit more free to be a wise-ass <.< But I can't complain about that 7-11am shift. . . it was nice, counting all the giftcards scattered through the store. I mean, I didn't have to deal with any customers (I know, this makes me sound like a horribly anti-social person. . . and maybe I am Oo). Not that all customers are bad. Just the ones that treat you like your sole purpose in life is to make theirs inconvenient. Or the race fans. . . oh god, the race fans ><

I hear you can make good money off of them at the track. The downside is that you don't sleep, you get sunburned to an inch of your life, and you endure large quantities of beer-guzzling rednecks. When you're a chick (especially one like me), this isn't considered to be the "fun" category for me.

Fun. . . fun. . .

Man. I need me some of that -.-
Previous post Next post
Up
[]