Thursday, September 18, 2003

whirligig: pictorial

My day began with an early morning pictorial at a hotel.

I got in touch with my inner fashion stylist and selected the oufits my image model would wear, then Marc and I proceeded to do our art direction thing, talking to the model, getting her personality out in the open to be captured and rendered into pixels by digital wizardry - all in the context of the campaign, in the quest for the perfect accompanying image. Innumerable shots achieving a flow, a cadence of pose-shift-pose, and my instructions flying across the room, moving my model around with words.

Give me a smile, show me your teeth, cradle the bottle between your breasts, kiss the bottle, look naughty, look nice, laugh for me, stuff like that.

(What's interesting is how much my skill sets have grown - but you need to grow with the business, or more properly, as the business grows, you need to grow with it.)

I was so mesmerized by the model, I want to use her image for everything.

Would it surprise you to know that she's older than I am?

oasis: worthy reads

I had an hour between the pictorial and the next job, so I decided to grab a bite at Megamall and drop by Comicquest for a quick glance at the new comics that arrived last night.

Suprise, surprise, Vin was there, also in-between here and there and we managed to chat a bit about Project One Hundred, before he showed me books that I could not resist.

Summer Blonde by Adrian Tomine.

Endless Nights by Neil Gaiman and a plethora of artists.

Boneyard Vol.2 by Richard Moore

All trades, with the Gaiman book in hardcover. All lovely,all mine.

Collecting only trades is like feast or famine. There are weeks where there are no good ones, and my wallet maintains its lissome shape. And then, and then come weeks like this one, when I need to consider selling home and family to pay for my mind and eyes' desire.

And yet there is no question about owning these, rather than borrowing.

Some books, you can borrow, and you can live with the thought that they need to be returned to their owners. They are not yours, like Jeff Noon's Pixel Juice (which I am only too glad to return, distressed by his conscious wordplay for its own sake).

Some books you simply must have. It is not about needing or wanting.

It is about necessity.

whirligig: telco projects 1, 2 and 3

Three different things.

A massive pictorial over the course of three days, 25 models on the second day alone, more set-ups than I've seen in a shot list.

Final presentation of a site that took 8 months to birth, fearing the almost-quixotic change orders.

Blah-blah on fever pitch against the usual worthy competition.

whirligig: this and that

And of course another resto client calls and needs to meet (Is tomorrow all right? Great! What time? 9AM? Um, sure!)

Of course the mall client calls and wants to consult (Is tomorrow all right? Great! What time? 10AM? Okay!)

Of course there are calls from the office, from my partner at the other resto client, from the telco people I just left.

Schedules, timetables, deliverables, deadlines, rationales, designs, materials, suppliers.

Tired. I'm tired. Brain mush, saliva dry, amoeba waiting pensively for the opportunity to strike.


I must see the results of Sage's visit to the doctor.

I must finish my script for Project One Hundred.

I must read my new stuff.

And I must have dinner.

Now now now.


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