Where to start. Was it when I was packing my bags again yesterday morning for the dozenth time. Or When I was shuffling through customs at the International airport. Or perhaps it was when I bumped into a friend from work who I'd thought left the country weeks ago and who, when we compared boarding passes, was sitting in the seat in front on the stopover flight to Singapore.
Ryan was there with his mother, and when she found out my next stop was new New Delhi they took the opportunity to gang up on me. Dont drink the water! Dont eat salads! Dont go walking at night!
I was still singing It's a Small World in my head when I was stopped by the security guard. The sight of my umbrella in my carry-on luggage had caused a bit of a stir. After getting the twelfth degree about why anyone would carry an umbrella on a flight I find out that you can smuggle things in them. Wonders will never cease.
Four hours into the flight and I felt like I'd reverted to a baby-like state. I had people bringing me food at regular intervals, but a pale imitation of real, adult food. I was sat in front of a television, plugged into my entertainment unit, watching the world go by through the window I couldn't open.
Nearly half the trip had gone by and we were still over Australia. It gave me, finally, a sense of how huge our country really is. Roads that go on straight for hundreds of kilometers, just once kinking around some creek or outcrop before continuing on, straight as a line drawn by a cartographer between the two points of civilisation.
We chased the sun across the globe, heading into the west, trailing sunset behind us. The last light had only just faded from the horizon when the lights of Singapore blossomed beneath us. Patches of disconnected light like pieces of a puzzle strewn across a tabletop hinted at the multitude of tiny islands beneath us.
I didn't know this, but apparently your bags aren't taken off the plane if you're just making a night's stopover before carrying on your journey. I step out into the muggy night air feeling somewhat under prepared and over exposed, toting my small backpack which doesnt even contain a change of clothes.
Perhaps this is where it starts. Sun not even up, as I sneak from my concrete bunker of a room, body clock giving me false signals to the time of day. Listening to the traffic go by and the soft snores of the boys at reception, sleeping in bunks above their desks. Waiting for the sun to rise through the heavy cloud over a city busy at 6am.
Or perhaps it starts tomorrow, in Delhi.
-- H in S
Some old facial animation experiments.
-- H
Brisbane does not rate highly on the scale of geeky cities in australia. In a place where going to the pub is considered better entertainment than playing D&D, and people are more likely to stay in to watch the footy than level up in WOW, the geeks of brisbane take any oportunity they can get to let loose their inner otaku.
This is why each year the Supanova comic con draws larger and larger crowds to a meager gathering of comic stalls and B-list celebrities. This year was, by far, the most attended yet. At the risk of sounding hyperbolical, the line stretched around the block. In fact, when at 11 am a friend rang up to tell me she was arriving at the venue in a few minutes I told her to bring a packed lunch. She had time to meet life-long friends and grow old in that line.
Myself and my accomplice on the other hand took several minutes to simply walk the length of the line, and then, clutching our pre-bought passes like Willy Wonka's golden ticket, stepped inside the chocolate factory...
Roaming an audatorium full of bizzarly dressed geeks and smelly nerds isn't everyone's idea of a good time, and you really have to be a part of the culture to appreciate this event. I tried, mostly unsuccessfully, to explain to several uninitiated friends what Supanova was like.
For most people who go it's simply a place to connect with your own inner geek in a place where everyone gets the joke. Walking past girls with 'I love yaoi' t-shirts and guys wearing long red coats with spikey bleached hair gave me a warm, fuzzy glow of otaku pride. Watching Sailor Moon eat chips with gravy at the kiosk and Naruto buying an Eva doll makes for a slightly absurd and surreal scene.
It's that very absurdity that makes Supanova - like comic-cons everywhere - so charming. This young comic con is still finding it's identity and the stall range from B-list Sci-Fi actors to Singstar booths, Wrestling tournaments to Cosplay competitions.
So get yourself there next year. Hug a stormtrooper, spot some anime legends in costume and rummage through the stalls untill you find that special, limited edition, first run Spiderman comic you've been searching for.
-- H
-- H
Beware the calamari!
-- H
-- H
People who've known me since I was younger wouldn't describe me as a particularly active person. So they might be surprised to know that at about 2:30pm on Saturday afternoon I was standing on the summit of the third highest mountain in Queensland. When my friend had suggested a 10 hour hike up Mt Barney (which, true to it's name, is large and purple from a distance) I had considered it a welcome challenge. I've been wanting to go trekking in Nepal and thought this would be a good way to find out if I was up to it. What I didn't realise was that we would in fact be climbing up the side of the mountain. 
Following a trail that was marked only by the signs of previous mountaineers having passed that
way we first hiked, then scrambled up rocky inclines, and then began to scale what, from a distance, had seemed perfectly smooth vertical cliffs. After about four and a half hours we were close to the summit, clinging like geckos to hand-holds in the cliff-face with a sheer drop behind us and our hearts in our mouth. As we finally straighted up after pulling ourself by main force over the last ledge we caught our breath and stared around. I finally understand why people risk life and limb to reach the very peak of mountains, to be the first to have this amazing view. It was so silent at the top of the world. We were at the highest point in the visible landscape with only the blue dome of the sky above us and the surrounding mountains well below. I cant remember ever seeing so much horizon. The adrenaline that had sustained us all the way up started to drain from my system and I almost shook as I stood there marveling at what we'd done.
The climb down sapped the rest of our strength, and as we trudged through the fields at the base darkness hid the huge mountain behind us. In a state of complete exhaustion, we decided that putting up a tent for the night was out of the question. A seedy small-town motel sounded like a fun alternative but against all expectations the nearby, cowboy-hat-wearing town of Beaudesert was totally booked out. Aching, scratched in desperate need of a hot shower, we finally found a resort hotel, in the middle of nowhere, whose salmon coloured pillars and golf course we woke up to the next morning. In an effort to create the illusion of camping we had instant mac-and-cheese for breakfast.
-- H
Reverting back to my old staple, fantasy creatures. I'm planning to actually finish this one, no really.
-- H
So here's the model several hours, and a lot more detail, later. I found a good tutorial for doing hair, and though it still looks pretty sculpted it's not a bad technique. Texturing yet to come...!
-- H
I've started learning how to use the 3d sculpting program Zbrush at work, and for practice I've been sculpting this head. The base is a low-poly (1200 tri) head I modelled in maya a while back, optimized for Zbrush's aversion to triangle. this is at the basic blocking out stage, before the fine detail goes in. I haven't used any anatomy reference yet, so I'll go in and tweak that before adding details.
-- H
I drew this from some photo reference for a change, since my art class isn't till tomorrow night. The model was in a very classical ' virgin being attacked by nasty beasty ' pose which was quite fun to draw. I wouldn't mind finishing this one, but dinner calls.
-- H
--H
-- H
Went to town with this sketch...all done in OpenCanvas 4. Particularly fond of the glowing cyborg tattoos.
--H
gravity on me, never let me down gently
gravity with me, never let me go
i dont pull me down
i dont pull me down on me
-- Gorillaz
Possibly some Gustav Klimt influence crept in here.
-- H
I left for the airport the next day with mingling feelings of regret and homesickness. I would have loved to stay longer and experience the city fully, but home was exerting it's pull and the wait in the airport terminal seemed an eternity. Cheap hamburger in hand, complete with soggy lettuce, I watched the planes skid over the runway under a thundery sky, waiting for my flight to be called.
The flight back to Brisbane seemed shorter that I remembered, but the familiar jolt as the plane left the
runway was still there. I watched first the blue of the pacific and then the red expanse of my home country roll beneath the wings of the plane. Watching the sunset from above the clouds, I marveled at how more beautiful the sun's rays were when seen from up here. Shafts of light speared through clouds lit with gold, and the sky seemed on fire.
Below the clouds again, coasting along the runway in the twilight, it started to rain. The train ride from the airport was so quiet and uneventful it made the last couple of weeks seem surreal, and as the familiar landscape swept by it seemed to sweep away some of the reality of it all, as if I'd never been gone.
I recharged the mobile I hadn't been able to use for two weeks and called my parents to let them know I was back. And that seemed to confirm it, I was home.
-- H in Oz
Staring out at fog and drizzle as the bus speeds along the highways between Queenstown and Christchurch, the weather reflects my mood. Everyone's very subdued today and for the first time on this trip I feel travel-sick, even the few stop-offs along the way don't provide much distraction. It's with a sigh of relief that we finally draw up to the hostel in the middle of Christchurch. I left the remainder of the group I was traveling with back down south, so I haul my luggage up in the rickety lift by myself and plan my first days alone since leaving Auckland.
Next morning, armed with a map, scarf and jacket I go exploring. Down the road is an old university, now converted into a cultural arts center. Large galleries are filled with an eclectic mix of paintings and beautiful craft by local artisans, but with moths fluttering out of my wallet I have to limit my purchasing glee. By a stroke of luck I'm here on a Saturday and the markets are in full swing outside the university building when I get there. Very craft oriented, it was usual to find the actual artist peddling their wares in the stalls. Christchurch denizens seem to still embrace the struggling, one-man craft industry with an enthusiasm untempered by cynical commercialism.
The whole small city has an alternative, arty feel to it, with old-english style buildings separated by wide, grassy parks and bisected with meandering brooks. Every street corner is decorated with some statue, be it modern or classical, and every alley reveals a small, intimate bar or cafe.
Getting lost amongst such alleys proves a fantastic way to experience the city, but failing to mark the spot of an interesting shop or bar on my map means half an hour wandering aimlessly hoping to find it again.
-- H in Oz
The view from one of the restaurants in the middle of the lake. Very fancy.
Showing off my mad cooking skills at the Spice Box cookery class.
Women bathing in their saris at the ghats in Udaipur.
The lake palace (now a hotel) that sits in the middle of the lake in Udaipur.
Unfortunately trying this myself voids my insurance policy.
Traditional rug making near Jodpur. 
The Meranghar fort in Jodpur with a view of the blue city.
Finally gave in and used some photo-derived texture elements. The rest of the skin is hand-painted. 
Something I've been working on every so often for the last few weeks. Still need some hair and another texture pass, but I've been told it's a passable likeness.
Following a trail that was marked only by the signs of previous mountaineers having passed that
way we first hiked, then scrambled up rocky inclines, and then began to scale what, from a distance, had seemed perfectly smooth vertical cliffs. After about four and a half hours we were close to the summit, clinging like geckos to hand-holds in the cliff-face with a sheer drop behind us and our hearts in our mouth. As we finally straighted up after pulling ourself by main force over the last ledge we caught our breath and stared around. I finally understand why people risk life and limb to reach the very peak of mountains, to be the first to have this amazing view. It was so silent at the top of the world. We were at the highest point in the visible landscape with only the blue dome of the sky above us and the surrounding mountains well below. I cant remember ever seeing so much horizon. The adrenaline that had sustained us all the way up started to drain from my system and I almost shook as I stood there marveling at what we'd done.
The climb down sapped the rest of our strength, and as we trudged through the fields at the base darkness hid the huge mountain behind us. In a state of complete exhaustion, we decided that putting up a tent for the night was out of the question. A seedy small-town motel sounded like a fun alternative but against all expectations the nearby, cowboy-hat-wearing town of Beaudesert was totally booked out. Aching, scratched in desperate need of a hot shower, we finally found a resort hotel, in the middle of nowhere, whose salmon coloured pillars and golf course we woke up to the next morning. In an effort to create the illusion of camping we had instant mac-and-cheese for breakfast. 
I've started learning how to use the 3d sculpting program Zbrush at work, and for practice I've been sculpting this head. The base is a low-poly (1200 tri) head I modelled in maya a while back, optimized for Zbrush's aversion to triangle. this is at the basic blocking out stage, before the fine detail goes in. I haven't used any anatomy reference yet, so I'll go in and tweak that before adding details.
I left for the airport the next day with mingling feelings of regret and homesickness. I would have loved to stay longer and experience the city fully, but home was exerting it's pull and the wait in the airport terminal seemed an eternity. Cheap hamburger in hand, complete with soggy lettuce, I watched the planes skid over the runway under a thundery sky, waiting for my flight to be called.
runway was still there. I watched first the blue of the pacific and then the red expanse of my home country roll beneath the wings of the plane. Watching the sunset from above the clouds, I marveled at how more beautiful the sun's rays were when seen from up here. Shafts of light speared through clouds lit with gold, and the sky seemed on fire.
The whole small city has an alternative, arty feel to it, with old-english style buildings separated by wide, grassy parks and bisected with meandering brooks. Every street corner is decorated with some statue, be it modern or classical, and every alley reveals a small, intimate bar or cafe.
