Cold, cold sadness
It was some time ago that I took a stab at my unexplainable and unnecessary takes on movies. Mostly because I can’t say why I do it. But being an artist, not knowing why is the best reasons to continue.
And, you know, when you consume as much moving pictures as we do in our age, not often – but once in a while – something sticks.
I watched The Ides of March and I suppose it was meant to be a sad and cynic affair. I wouldn’t really recommend it (what with Clooney’s superficial critique of the system that feeds him, or what have you); not when you’d surely enjoy rewatching The Contender or All The President’s Men or Wag The Dog so much more – yet, some stills beg to be harvested, some glimpses have a meaning that can be brought out of its context and used for other fruitful purposes.
Molly (Evan Rachel Wood) reminds me of someone I’m not sure if I have ever met or only made up, but in this scene, they’re almost twin sisters. And furthermore, that shot of her in the diner was so intriguing, because the light outside, the buildings in the background – it looks so much like Northern Europe. Like my world. Grand, efficiently manufactured American movie stories are supposed to take place somewhere wild and far away (i.e. California, Arizona, New York City and possibly parts of Florida). So this scene is a case of, well, reversed leakage. In the words of Clifford Worley, I find that shit fascinating.
Library, 2007 by Lori Nix.
A photographic composition that illustrates the hauntingly beautiful aftermath of a post-apocalyptic world. This reminds me of pictures of Cuba where a once splendid world was tarnished with death and war, but yet still, underneath the debris lays something grand waiting to be re-loved and re-found. Some things are so beautiful that they transcend destruction.
Yeah, that feels familiar.
Betty Spiker on a supply run in the abandoned territories.
It was a rainy Sunday, and for some reason I decided to give Poser another try. I soon remembered why I stayed away: it is a fucking terrible piece of software. Two thirds of the time is spent on correcting errors that pop up for no discernible reason. Under such circumstances, it’s understandable that the user community is generally occupied with different combinations of stock models (here it’s the Trader Vehicle by kalebdaark and Warehouse District by Stonemason, plus clothing props whose creator’s names have gone lost).
Making stuff in Poser is really no different from playing with dolls. So nothing in your image is yours, except the intent.
To my surprise, and after a metric ton of postwork, it happens occasionally that the resulting image is not completely repulsive. Sort of a snapshot from a story, from the borderland between inspiring circumstance and disconsolate fabrication.
Smaller and bigger rocks
Originally an exercise in how to make different sized rocks disperse a bit more naturally, soon enough it turned into one of those places, far away out on the plain, where you imagine you’d dig in and hide from the enemy, the cops, the monsters, the storm. Or simply bleed to death alone.
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.
The inevitable Beginner’s Island. When you start out trying to learn 3D modeling, especially in the amateur variety of programs that invite you to build landscapes (sort of the opposite of the all-serious, all-professional, no-funny-stuff CAD segment), chances are you’ll make an island. A small chunk of land in a nondescript ocean that impresses almost nobody.
Still, you know, Böcklin.