Summer is a great thing, especially in the northern regions. But, god be damned, it can wear you out.
(Cassidy, sort of).
Another testrender of The Hospital, after I managed to import the damn thing into Vue. And lord, doth thy rainbow beachball spin from the weight of polygons. But okay, I’m improving ever so slightly. Still missing: landscape terrain, plants, clouds, decision on sun placement, other hobby for the week the final image will take to render.
Not sure where I’m going with this. Hell, it looks like old paintings. I’ve been dabbling in amateur 3D modeling for several years now and it’s so damn hard to get something usable out of it.
I decided to give Vue another try. Despite the feeling of playing with dolls, that so many people enjoy in Poser, it’s… oh, I guess it’s no different than building model railroad landscapes. The moody God perspective. You spend hours upon hours prodding your way through really crappy software, and if you’re lucky you produce something that almost doesn’t look completely awful. All this instead of drawing or painting by hand. Dammit.
But it’s still fascinating. Exploring obtuse and obsolete work methods. Using apps in ways they weren’t intended to be. Laughing at violent software screw-ups. Alternating between careful adjustments and wild abandon. Gaping at the unexpected results.
And there’s still something cool about constructing almost-believable nature scenes that didn’t exist before.
Autumn a couple of years ago.
[cont.] These storm chasers are obsessed (as you go) with extreme weather (and relentless camaraderie) to make up for their overeating… Just kidding.
I got to remember to ask Anna Kristensen about tumbling houses sometime.
The question is, what is it that draws us out, to be near the storm, to want reach out and pet the suck-the-face-off-my-skull wind?
Is it about how we want to be friends with the monster, to prove that if you are unafraid you won’t get hurt? Is it a longing to surrender, now that here’s a force that can be seen and felt (and get crushed by)? Is it the tiny taste of danger? Or is it a dim sensation – a hesitant joy – of being so very small against the raging sky?
A few screenshots from Twister, a movie about weather with Helen Hunt, Private Hudson and Jack’s Cornflower Blue Boss. It strikes me as a very Nineties movie. There’s the clumsy but earnest storytelling, the predisposition for color filters – but still, top notch cinematography, and the charming early CGI. Wikipedia goes into detail about the disorganized production. There’s also a museum committed to the movie in Wakita, Oklahoma.
You know, I’m particular about meteorology, and I try to figure out why, so a movie like this has a measure of priority. For instance, look at the situations regarding food (Philip Seymour Hoffman yells “We crave sustenance!”). The roadside diner early in the movie is warm, sleeping kitten cozy. Centered in the image when NSSL discovers the coming supertornado, is a ham sandwich.
God I’m starving for a cheese burger.
It’s coffee and eggs and hot dogs and steaks and mashed potatoes: truck driver food. This works, because the coziness of eating together is the emotional opposite of hailstorming, farm-tearing, destruction-hungry Bad Weather. [cont.]