Wednesday, October 29, 2008
OpenGL Drawing
Gues what everyone! CS4 doesn't run off your processors like its predecessors once did. This beast uses your Video card(s) and speaks through OpenGL. Unfortunately if your processor doesn't speak OpenGL CS4 doesn't work. Unless you download the Bios changes that are available to enable older GPU's (video cards) to communicate through OpenGL. If that doesn't work perhaps you already tried to download the latest drivers for your GPU (not a bad idea even if you're not using CS4), and if that doesn't work there's another download from Adobe that might help. If none of those things work? Two options. Turn off OpenGL Drawing under "Edit-Preferences-Performance", or, update (aka replace) your GPU, as turning OFF OpenGL limits your functionality of CS4 making it less worth the upgrade and more worth just keeping CS3...... Unless you need excuses to get upgrades on your system, in which case buy a whole new system with a new and support graphics card. If you're in that category and need excuses to spend money on a new system, might I be your excuse and you can spend it on one for me?!? lol
Hilarious darling, simply hilarious!
A bit of fun...
My wife tossed me a quarter to help me make a decision for dinner (it's how I make all my Realllllly tough decisions, yes or no by chance....lol), well after I had used it I tossed it back to her... Ooops.
"Oh no, I lost it!" she exclaimed!
"You didn't lose it dear, you invested in our future findings!" I responded.
=)
My wife tossed me a quarter to help me make a decision for dinner (it's how I make all my Realllllly tough decisions, yes or no by chance....lol), well after I had used it I tossed it back to her... Ooops.
"Oh no, I lost it!" she exclaimed!
"You didn't lose it dear, you invested in our future findings!" I responded.
=)
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
If only perchance
I have an assignment due tomorrow afternoon, I just completed it. I started it two hours ago. Well, less than that actually. The assignment is simple, three artists meet at a cafe on september and the writer is sitting nearby and listens in on their conversation. here's a brief assignment description.
DEFINITION
You walk into a busy cafe in late September as you sit down at your table. Next to you overhear the conversations of Julia Margaret Cameron, P. H. Emerson, and Edgar Degas.
Write a 3-5 page paper that describes their conversations include their attitudes and ideas about art and photography in your paper.
Be creative.
For those who may not know, they didn't live near each other, Cameron lived most her life in India, and wasn't well known until decades after her death, Degas was initially a painter, etc, and used photography minimally in comparison, lived in france, and Emerson primarily called Great Brittain home. Their lives do overlap in some degree, though them meeting would have taken some doing in reality. I added a twist.
In addition to the above criteria the character I created was the notorious Stieglitz, he started the movement through America that allowed Photography to be considered more of an art-form than it had been the six previous decades. His impact in the world is no small stone in a pond, it was through him that Georgia O'keefe became a household name, later in his life he would divorce his wife and marry the much younger O'keefe. His is the gallery mentioned, it was him in Paris meeting with Rodin that allowed there to be some truth in their meeting, and juxtaposition of their meeting in relation to his movement that allows me to create art-work today and have it more willingly accepted by artist peers of varying backgrounds as being art-work and not something less than that. With that said, here's what I wrote. The meeting is fictional, their personal stories and convictions are real.
Artistically Autumn
The leaves were in the heat of their fall colors, it was a shockingly warm day as temperatures seemingly had risen overnight. I was sitting back enjoying the warmth of the mid-day sun eating a light lunch as I began to catch glimpses of conversation from a most interesting trio of friends. I recognized one of the three as being the well known Edgar Degas. His facial structures gave him away as the one who had been accused on accounts of being the “anti-Semitic Impressionist”. If he was I couldn’t blame him as it seemed that his family may have lost their financial institution due to insider trading tips among Jews, if what had been passed around was true he had very good reason to be upset with at least a few of the lot.
I couldn’t make heads or tails of the other two at the table; I feared I never in my life-time enjoy the work of the woman at the table. She spoke with such fervor and devotion to photography as an art-form, through emotionally convicted words I felt drawn to her passion in photography and desired to observe her work though I lacked the confidence to make the request that day. She spoke of her passion to photograph all those who visited her home, and how a neighbor frequently would bring his guests to her home, where she would painstakingly photograph them in the most curious of ways.
The last I would learn was a Mr. Emerson, as my interest later in life would serve me I would discover his first name to be Peter. At first his conversations were grim, full of discouragement and a general frustration as he seemed consistently to be butting heads with the general British Photographic establishment over what seemed to me to be the most unworthy causes of disturbance between persons. His venting of vehemence with people not accepting his photography as being original and the general disposition of those who would otherwise be considered colleagues was gently calmed by his counter-parts as they all joined under the banner of brother-hood in making art through their various forms.
During the time of their conversation Photography was seen as a form of recording images of truth, capturing that which is real and showing just that. Furthermore it was used by some artists as a way of capturing the human form in its most real form in order to have a more realistic rendering of the human form as a photograph would allow artists to take their time and recreate every detail in the most intimate manners. As I reclined, dropping eves on their conversation, I turned my eyes back to the fall trees outside, the people dining at the sparse tables placed outside, and the groups and individuals strolling along the leaf-strewn side-walk.
Their conversations seemed to give my mind the freedom to see with eyes that I didn’t know I had, my eyes focused on the colours of the leaves and it seemed that the more intently I looked on them the brighter their colors became, their movements began to move more slowly as they drifted on the wings of the soft wind blowing, and for a brief moment their shapes and colours even began to blur in a short bursting swirls of colour. My day vision was quickly disturbed as it seemed my reclining had become too great and I found myself on the floor. I tried to shake off the embarrassment, as I picked myself back up and assured a highly concerned waiter that I was just fine and just had lost track of myself for a moment.
As the atmosphere of the café began to return, as it had been previous to my introduction with the tile, I returned my ears to the colourful words being shared between my newly found entertainers. I began to envision the words of Peter as he described his processes for creating an image that had the appearance of being the combination of multiple images but in reality was merely the proper manipulation of one glass sheet. He shared his ideas for a new way of creating similar images, and as I envisioned it I began to see the brilliance, being able to section off parts of the negative so only parts were exposed for your express composition, painstakingly composing subjects and scenes, and hoping the exposure would be correct. It seemed that with enough practice with the camera Mr. Emerson had developed a fairly keen eye for exposure, which in turn greatly helped his ventures in manipulating a single image from its inception. I could see the brilliance in his efforts, and began to relate to his frustrations with the local riff-raff of photographers who had so easily mistaken his images for being less than what they truly were, brilliant.
He seemed to be among very good company, and monsieur Degas very respectfully concurred with his colleague’s plight and efforts in creating the imagery that moved him. They all seemed bound by some ethereal force to create that which they felt directed to make, though their processes of creation varied, their techniques very different, they found themselves bound to each other and to their images by a force that in time has and will continue to touch more people than will ever accept or embrace it. It would seem the woman was more than perhaps I had at first given her credit for.
The wife of a man more than twenty years older her, she seemed to have a motherly love for her photography. As her story unfolded before my ears I began to witness her experiences, seeing her joy as her daughter gave her the camera that started her passion with photography, her time spent photographing family, visitors and various traveling dignitaries. She was 48 when she started, surprisingly she looked much younger than her age must have been, as she spoke her love for reading seemed to visualize before me. As I began to recognize characters mentioned from novels she adored I saw with my eyes the portrayals with which she showed them through her photographs, young angels mystically placed keeping a watchful eye, a woman disguised by shadow showing her inner-strength despite the cultural consequences which were bound to follow her un-accepted actions. She described her “fancy portraits” in further detail and as my trance continued from their conversation my eyes returned outside. There was a couple sitting at a table, the woman seemed somewhat distanced from the man, tension built between them and in my mind’s eye I saw the forbidden actions of the woman in an act of defiance against her oppressor. Though her actions were divulged only for a moment, in that brief moment when our eyes connected I realized the truthfulness of writings of our time, as fictitious as some of them seemed perhaps like these artists there was more to them than a simple glance would offer.
Degas sat quietly for a moment, something was on his mind. The others turned to him, the atmosphere they emanated turned solemn as his thoughts turned into words. “What if we are all forgotten? What good is it if despite all our efforts, all our work, the world never feels the impact of our intention?” Their eyes searched each other for an answer to questions which had lain heavy on their minds and countless other artists for generations before and surely would generations from the moment they were spoken aloud.
“There is a man” Degas spoke with his voice low, “rumor has brought me word that he is here in Paris as we speak. I was told he will be visiting Rodin this very afternoon. If what has been said of him is true it will be in no small part his doing that will create a space for photography in our world of art, and as space is made for this new art-form there is no doubt that, if not from our efforts, than from the efforts of those who come after us our ideals will be expressed, the forms will not be forgotten though our bodies turn to dust.” They spoke briefly longer and in more hushed tones, for a moment I thought I heard them say my name, after long embraces that are only given before and after those close depart indefinitely they separated, as they left the café and entered the street outside my vision began to return as it had been previous to my listening in on their conversations. For an hour longer I sat at my table, recreating the styles they spoke of through my mind, envisioning the techniques they loved so dearly in a very live sense. Promptly at the strike of two I paid my bill and determined to find this Rodin before returning to New York and my long-missed 201. Perhaps I would see this person when I met with Rodin, I should like to, and to introduce him to my dear blossoming Georgia.
Wikipedia (evil as it is) does offer some insight into each of the persons I've mentioned in the above fictional piece, here are some links for each of them if you're interested.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peter_Henry_Emerson
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edgar_Degas
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Julia_Margaret_Cameron
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alfred_Stieglitz
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Georgia_O%27Keeffe
If you're not familiar with O'keeffe's work, here's a link to some of her art. Ok, so it's an online gallery of like 221 of her paintings. If you like flowers you'll love this.
http://www.artst.org/okeefe
DEFINITION
You walk into a busy cafe in late September as you sit down at your table. Next to you overhear the conversations of Julia Margaret Cameron, P. H. Emerson, and Edgar Degas.
Write a 3-5 page paper that describes their conversations include their attitudes and ideas about art and photography in your paper.
Be creative.
For those who may not know, they didn't live near each other, Cameron lived most her life in India, and wasn't well known until decades after her death, Degas was initially a painter, etc, and used photography minimally in comparison, lived in france, and Emerson primarily called Great Brittain home. Their lives do overlap in some degree, though them meeting would have taken some doing in reality. I added a twist.
In addition to the above criteria the character I created was the notorious Stieglitz, he started the movement through America that allowed Photography to be considered more of an art-form than it had been the six previous decades. His impact in the world is no small stone in a pond, it was through him that Georgia O'keefe became a household name, later in his life he would divorce his wife and marry the much younger O'keefe. His is the gallery mentioned, it was him in Paris meeting with Rodin that allowed there to be some truth in their meeting, and juxtaposition of their meeting in relation to his movement that allows me to create art-work today and have it more willingly accepted by artist peers of varying backgrounds as being art-work and not something less than that. With that said, here's what I wrote. The meeting is fictional, their personal stories and convictions are real.
my name
History of Photography
teachers name
History of Photography
teachers name
October 23rd 2008
Artistically Autumn
The leaves were in the heat of their fall colors, it was a shockingly warm day as temperatures seemingly had risen overnight. I was sitting back enjoying the warmth of the mid-day sun eating a light lunch as I began to catch glimpses of conversation from a most interesting trio of friends. I recognized one of the three as being the well known Edgar Degas. His facial structures gave him away as the one who had been accused on accounts of being the “anti-Semitic Impressionist”. If he was I couldn’t blame him as it seemed that his family may have lost their financial institution due to insider trading tips among Jews, if what had been passed around was true he had very good reason to be upset with at least a few of the lot.
I couldn’t make heads or tails of the other two at the table; I feared I never in my life-time enjoy the work of the woman at the table. She spoke with such fervor and devotion to photography as an art-form, through emotionally convicted words I felt drawn to her passion in photography and desired to observe her work though I lacked the confidence to make the request that day. She spoke of her passion to photograph all those who visited her home, and how a neighbor frequently would bring his guests to her home, where she would painstakingly photograph them in the most curious of ways.
The last I would learn was a Mr. Emerson, as my interest later in life would serve me I would discover his first name to be Peter. At first his conversations were grim, full of discouragement and a general frustration as he seemed consistently to be butting heads with the general British Photographic establishment over what seemed to me to be the most unworthy causes of disturbance between persons. His venting of vehemence with people not accepting his photography as being original and the general disposition of those who would otherwise be considered colleagues was gently calmed by his counter-parts as they all joined under the banner of brother-hood in making art through their various forms.
During the time of their conversation Photography was seen as a form of recording images of truth, capturing that which is real and showing just that. Furthermore it was used by some artists as a way of capturing the human form in its most real form in order to have a more realistic rendering of the human form as a photograph would allow artists to take their time and recreate every detail in the most intimate manners. As I reclined, dropping eves on their conversation, I turned my eyes back to the fall trees outside, the people dining at the sparse tables placed outside, and the groups and individuals strolling along the leaf-strewn side-walk.
Their conversations seemed to give my mind the freedom to see with eyes that I didn’t know I had, my eyes focused on the colours of the leaves and it seemed that the more intently I looked on them the brighter their colors became, their movements began to move more slowly as they drifted on the wings of the soft wind blowing, and for a brief moment their shapes and colours even began to blur in a short bursting swirls of colour. My day vision was quickly disturbed as it seemed my reclining had become too great and I found myself on the floor. I tried to shake off the embarrassment, as I picked myself back up and assured a highly concerned waiter that I was just fine and just had lost track of myself for a moment.
As the atmosphere of the café began to return, as it had been previous to my introduction with the tile, I returned my ears to the colourful words being shared between my newly found entertainers. I began to envision the words of Peter as he described his processes for creating an image that had the appearance of being the combination of multiple images but in reality was merely the proper manipulation of one glass sheet. He shared his ideas for a new way of creating similar images, and as I envisioned it I began to see the brilliance, being able to section off parts of the negative so only parts were exposed for your express composition, painstakingly composing subjects and scenes, and hoping the exposure would be correct. It seemed that with enough practice with the camera Mr. Emerson had developed a fairly keen eye for exposure, which in turn greatly helped his ventures in manipulating a single image from its inception. I could see the brilliance in his efforts, and began to relate to his frustrations with the local riff-raff of photographers who had so easily mistaken his images for being less than what they truly were, brilliant.
He seemed to be among very good company, and monsieur Degas very respectfully concurred with his colleague’s plight and efforts in creating the imagery that moved him. They all seemed bound by some ethereal force to create that which they felt directed to make, though their processes of creation varied, their techniques very different, they found themselves bound to each other and to their images by a force that in time has and will continue to touch more people than will ever accept or embrace it. It would seem the woman was more than perhaps I had at first given her credit for.
The wife of a man more than twenty years older her, she seemed to have a motherly love for her photography. As her story unfolded before my ears I began to witness her experiences, seeing her joy as her daughter gave her the camera that started her passion with photography, her time spent photographing family, visitors and various traveling dignitaries. She was 48 when she started, surprisingly she looked much younger than her age must have been, as she spoke her love for reading seemed to visualize before me. As I began to recognize characters mentioned from novels she adored I saw with my eyes the portrayals with which she showed them through her photographs, young angels mystically placed keeping a watchful eye, a woman disguised by shadow showing her inner-strength despite the cultural consequences which were bound to follow her un-accepted actions. She described her “fancy portraits” in further detail and as my trance continued from their conversation my eyes returned outside. There was a couple sitting at a table, the woman seemed somewhat distanced from the man, tension built between them and in my mind’s eye I saw the forbidden actions of the woman in an act of defiance against her oppressor. Though her actions were divulged only for a moment, in that brief moment when our eyes connected I realized the truthfulness of writings of our time, as fictitious as some of them seemed perhaps like these artists there was more to them than a simple glance would offer.
Degas sat quietly for a moment, something was on his mind. The others turned to him, the atmosphere they emanated turned solemn as his thoughts turned into words. “What if we are all forgotten? What good is it if despite all our efforts, all our work, the world never feels the impact of our intention?” Their eyes searched each other for an answer to questions which had lain heavy on their minds and countless other artists for generations before and surely would generations from the moment they were spoken aloud.
“There is a man” Degas spoke with his voice low, “rumor has brought me word that he is here in Paris as we speak. I was told he will be visiting Rodin this very afternoon. If what has been said of him is true it will be in no small part his doing that will create a space for photography in our world of art, and as space is made for this new art-form there is no doubt that, if not from our efforts, than from the efforts of those who come after us our ideals will be expressed, the forms will not be forgotten though our bodies turn to dust.” They spoke briefly longer and in more hushed tones, for a moment I thought I heard them say my name, after long embraces that are only given before and after those close depart indefinitely they separated, as they left the café and entered the street outside my vision began to return as it had been previous to my listening in on their conversations. For an hour longer I sat at my table, recreating the styles they spoke of through my mind, envisioning the techniques they loved so dearly in a very live sense. Promptly at the strike of two I paid my bill and determined to find this Rodin before returning to New York and my long-missed 201. Perhaps I would see this person when I met with Rodin, I should like to, and to introduce him to my dear blossoming Georgia.
Wikipedia (evil as it is) does offer some insight into each of the persons I've mentioned in the above fictional piece, here are some links for each of them if you're interested.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peter_Henry_Emerson
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edgar_Degas
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Julia_Margaret_Cameron
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alfred_Stieglitz
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Georgia_O%27Keeffe
If you're not familiar with O'keeffe's work, here's a link to some of her art. Ok, so it's an online gallery of like 221 of her paintings. If you like flowers you'll love this.
http://www.artst.org/okeefe
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
PhotoMerge
I'm sitting in my Graphic Computer Applications class wondering why I'm here
My teacher is showing us how to make a panoramic image using several images, he's showing us by making layers and going through the long tedious process that is so much easier than he's making it. CS3 and CS4 have what's called PHOTOMERGE.
You open images through it, get some automated options and voila, your computer renders the image almost flawlessly.
There is something to be said in knowing how to do it yourself, there's something more to be said in knowing how to do it on a production level, taking less time and having the same quality of product.
My teacher is showing us how to make a panoramic image using several images, he's showing us by making layers and going through the long tedious process that is so much easier than he's making it. CS3 and CS4 have what's called PHOTOMERGE.
You open images through it, get some automated options and voila, your computer renders the image almost flawlessly.
There is something to be said in knowing how to do it yourself, there's something more to be said in knowing how to do it on a production level, taking less time and having the same quality of product.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
something I'm working on
It's not quite right yet, and I'm still working on it, but here's an idea I'm working on for one of my classes
Final Cut Pro
So I'm working on a project where I work, we're setting up an AJA with a Betaplayer and using Final Cut Pro to capture it in a digital format, and we're getting audio but not video. The player is sending XLR audio to the AJA and is Coax to send the video to the AJA, then we're taking a firewire feed from the AJA to the Mac.... Any ideas on how to get the video to preview?
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Directional
I've been working on scholarships lately, I've found it to be a very challenging, and some times persevering in it becomes very difficult. I received on of my letters of recommendation from a previous instructor, though she's probably photographically had one of the largest influences on me and how I show my work in the past 3 years. Reading it I wanted to cry, she touched on things that were struggles for me and how my working on my projects helped build up the class, and it really touched me in a way I didn't expect it to. I think one of the reasons why it's daunting to me to apply for scholarships is that it pits me against the rest of the nation's students and I'm efforting to show how I'm the better candidate. In reality that's a challenge for me where I've not felt that way as my art/photography I feel has struggled due to working full time and being a full time student. Thinking about it though, in the real world, in my professional life I'm going to be pitted against other equally hopeful candidates and vying to win the job that will be paying for my life and family. All of a sudden I don't feel so bad putting myself into competition to other people for money for school, as the competition for work begins with the competitive edge in school, trying to be the best for your position in school prepares a person to be the best for a position professionally. They're both rooted in the same principles.
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