“Well, back to the stinking bunker of gowns”
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 31, 2022
Thursday, November 12, 2020
Book cover designer
I have always wanted to design book covers. I did one for Patsy Crawford years ago that I was really happy with; but more did not follow.
Wednesday, May 30, 2018
Opening up old photos
Anyway – this is one of 3 examples I have made for her to use in her film trailer.
- In Photoshop I separated the foreground layers from each other and the background
- faked up all the important parts that were hidden in the original (this is the hard part)
- used AfterEffects to move the layers apart in 3D space so it's like a wafer
- then rotated that wafer so that the 3D space is visible, with layers moving across each other
Friday, January 12, 2018
Telling it like it is
I work in an office with about 50 people, which is quite a lot in Hobart. It's not chopped up into divisions or units; we all share the one kitchen, often go out for big lunches and you really do have to remember a lot of names.
There has been a rash of people leaving for various reasons, every week another big farewell card is circulated for us all to sign and add our little comment.
This time Beck (who hired me) is leaving to have a baby. Her card, I am not kidding, says on the front in massive letters just YOU’RE LEAVING TO HAVE A BABY.
This has given me a terrific idea for a whole range of 'leaving' cards that baldly state the reason for the departure.
YOU’RE LEAVING FOR MORE MONEY.
YOU’RE LEAVING BECAUSE THAT PERSONALITY CLASH WAS A DEAL-BREAKER.
YOU’RE LEAVING TO WRITE A BOOK. GOOD LUCK WITH THAT.
There has been a rash of people leaving for various reasons, every week another big farewell card is circulated for us all to sign and add our little comment.
This time Beck (who hired me) is leaving to have a baby. Her card, I am not kidding, says on the front in massive letters just YOU’RE LEAVING TO HAVE A BABY.
This has given me a terrific idea for a whole range of 'leaving' cards that baldly state the reason for the departure.
YOU’RE LEAVING FOR MORE MONEY.
YOU’RE LEAVING BECAUSE THAT PERSONALITY CLASH WAS A DEAL-BREAKER.
YOU’RE LEAVING TO WRITE A BOOK. GOOD LUCK WITH THAT.
Saturday, December 03, 2016
Psychic powers over the mundane
Yesterday a couple of odd things happened.
I was walking to work listening to a 2-guys-chatting podcast. They talk about all sorts of things, often slipping from one subject to another. They were talking about companion animals and specifically dwarf donkeys. Conversation moved on to science fiction's strike rate at predicting the future. As I listened I was also thinking about where I could get a boater hat; the key ingredient of my costume for an upcoming "1930s garden party". Maybe my dad might have one.
Suddenly one of the podcasters said "I saw a straw boater for sale the other day and I was sorely tempted". (it happens at 36:20 in this episode if you would like to verify) At first I thought had imagined it, daydreaming that I was part of their conversation. But no, it really happened. Obviously the podcast was recorded some weeks before I listened to it, so I somehow psychically affected the minds of the podcasters before I even knew the theme of the party. From Florence.
In the afternoon at work Dire Straits were on the stereo; a song I have heard many times before called Tunnel of Love.
And girl it looks so pretty to me just like it always did
Like the Spanish city to me when we were kids
I even have sung along many times, but I have never wondered before; which Spanish city? Was Mark Knopfler thinking of Madrid? Barcelona? Valencia? I was just wondering this to myself silently when I heard my workmate Chris who was born in Yorkshire say "The Spanish City was a funfair at Whitley Bay near Newcastle". Which it is.
I didn't ask the question, and I didn't hear anyone else ask the question. Chris just announced it. I was really gobsmacked and said "Uh, weird, I was just wondering that very thing". I had earlier told everyone about the boater thing so I didn't make a fuss about this one because I don't want to be burned as a witch.
Note 1: Chris and I work in a room with ten other people and two of them are also called Chris. Yesterday morning first thing (just after the boater incident) I and one of the other Chrises appeared in our then-empty room from opposite doors simultaneously as a third Chris emerged from the toilet. We just have to get used to these things happening.
Note 2: Chris from Yorkshire's mum used to know Mark and David Knopfler's mum.
- o O o -
I was walking to work listening to a 2-guys-chatting podcast. They talk about all sorts of things, often slipping from one subject to another. They were talking about companion animals and specifically dwarf donkeys. Conversation moved on to science fiction's strike rate at predicting the future. As I listened I was also thinking about where I could get a boater hat; the key ingredient of my costume for an upcoming "1930s garden party". Maybe my dad might have one.
Suddenly one of the podcasters said "I saw a straw boater for sale the other day and I was sorely tempted". (it happens at 36:20 in this episode if you would like to verify) At first I thought had imagined it, daydreaming that I was part of their conversation. But no, it really happened. Obviously the podcast was recorded some weeks before I listened to it, so I somehow psychically affected the minds of the podcasters before I even knew the theme of the party. From Florence.
 |
| A boater |
- o O o -
In the afternoon at work Dire Straits were on the stereo; a song I have heard many times before called Tunnel of Love.
And girl it looks so pretty to me just like it always did
Like the Spanish city to me when we were kids
I even have sung along many times, but I have never wondered before; which Spanish city? Was Mark Knopfler thinking of Madrid? Barcelona? Valencia? I was just wondering this to myself silently when I heard my workmate Chris who was born in Yorkshire say "The Spanish City was a funfair at Whitley Bay near Newcastle". Which it is.
I didn't ask the question, and I didn't hear anyone else ask the question. Chris just announced it. I was really gobsmacked and said "Uh, weird, I was just wondering that very thing". I had earlier told everyone about the boater thing so I didn't make a fuss about this one because I don't want to be burned as a witch.
 |
| Spanish City, Whitley Bay, UK |
Note 1: Chris and I work in a room with ten other people and two of them are also called Chris. Yesterday morning first thing (just after the boater incident) I and one of the other Chrises appeared in our then-empty room from opposite doors simultaneously as a third Chris emerged from the toilet. We just have to get used to these things happening.
Note 2: Chris from Yorkshire's mum used to know Mark and David Knopfler's mum.
Thursday, July 21, 2016
New job
I am writing this at my new job, at a place called Red Jelly. It's a big ad agency in Hobart but its kind of a secret - not many people know it's here and what it does. There's about 50 staff, 4 of whom are named Chris. Half the place is dedicated to the national liquor chain Dan Murphy's. Dan's generates a hell of a lot of press ads, outdoor ads, point of sale and odds and sods, and it is owned by Woolworths (as is another liquor chain BWS but that's another story). There are dozens of other clients but the big ones seem to all be Woolworths subsidiaries, including Countdown which is the name Woolworths uses in New Zealand.
Before starting here about two months ago, I had been working from home for about three years, long enough to get right into a groove. The days flew by every day, punctuated by meeting the kids after school, walking the dog, meeting clients, and doing the work. Although business varied between quiet-ish and brisk-ish, I never found that I was sitting around with nothing to do. If it was sunny I did washing, and if I felt like cleaning toilets I could do that too. Or take the wave ski out.
For my first 6 weeks here I was working on the Tourism Tasmania spring campaign at a manic rate, with no downtime at all. Once that was finished I was shifted into the Dan's room, where all around me Whisky Guides and outdoor ads for Far North Queensland are being created. There is a rhythm to the week in here and lots of flat spots.
It feels different to browse the net when you should be doing something, versus doing it to fill in time. One is a guilty pleasure and the other is just ... not something I usually do. Feels weird.
So, I am going to give myself a range of things I can do while I wait for the ping of email or the approach of the account manager. Such as – blogging.
Before starting here about two months ago, I had been working from home for about three years, long enough to get right into a groove. The days flew by every day, punctuated by meeting the kids after school, walking the dog, meeting clients, and doing the work. Although business varied between quiet-ish and brisk-ish, I never found that I was sitting around with nothing to do. If it was sunny I did washing, and if I felt like cleaning toilets I could do that too. Or take the wave ski out.
For my first 6 weeks here I was working on the Tourism Tasmania spring campaign at a manic rate, with no downtime at all. Once that was finished I was shifted into the Dan's room, where all around me Whisky Guides and outdoor ads for Far North Queensland are being created. There is a rhythm to the week in here and lots of flat spots.
It feels different to browse the net when you should be doing something, versus doing it to fill in time. One is a guilty pleasure and the other is just ... not something I usually do. Feels weird.
So, I am going to give myself a range of things I can do while I wait for the ping of email or the approach of the account manager. Such as – blogging.
Wednesday, March 09, 2016
Work
It's suddenly a busy time at work, and I have got some interesting and varied things on.
I am doing a website for a fire protection company - sprinklers are their main thing. While I was meeting with the GM he took a call from one of his blokes out in the field; a solid brass fitting had somehow broken. "See if you can sweat a brass nipple on to it. Yeah. Nah. Yeah, its only an outlet, we are only after the orifice".
I am also doing some animations and graphics for an online education video about brain pathology in dementia. One of the top men of the Wicking Dementia Research and Education Centre is an old friend of mine, so it was a real pleasure to go and talk business with him, then get 20 minutes just shooting the breeze. His office is at the top of one of Hobart's architectural landmarks; unfortunately the building doesn't work that well in some respects . The offices with windows get so hot that everyone has just been issued with electric fans.
While there I stuck my nose into the office of friend-of-the-blog Matthew K who works down the hall from James. I know these guys are super-smart and well regarded in their field but I tend to take it for granted. James said quietly at one stage "Yeah Matt is pretty much the go-to man in Australia now on brain anatomy".
James has been filmed talking off the cuff about dementia - he has a terrific command of his subject, I guess naturally since he runs an institute devoted to it. As there was no script I felt like I had to transcribe what he said to have a basis for editing and matching graphics to his comments.
As its over 20 minutes worth, I googled how to convert speech-to-text; not that hard if you are speaking into the microphone on your computer, but a bit fiddly to organise if the source is a recording. But I did it, and the result (although it needed cleaning up) was outstanding. Without any training in understanding James' voice, it correctly transcribed "neurodegenerative", "neurofibrillary", "cytoskeleton", and "proteinaceous". "Symptomology" it got right most of the time but in a few spots that came up as "supermodel".
I am doing a website for a fire protection company - sprinklers are their main thing. While I was meeting with the GM he took a call from one of his blokes out in the field; a solid brass fitting had somehow broken. "See if you can sweat a brass nipple on to it. Yeah. Nah. Yeah, its only an outlet, we are only after the orifice".
I am also doing some animations and graphics for an online education video about brain pathology in dementia. One of the top men of the Wicking Dementia Research and Education Centre is an old friend of mine, so it was a real pleasure to go and talk business with him, then get 20 minutes just shooting the breeze. His office is at the top of one of Hobart's architectural landmarks; unfortunately the building doesn't work that well in some respects . The offices with windows get so hot that everyone has just been issued with electric fans.
While there I stuck my nose into the office of friend-of-the-blog Matthew K who works down the hall from James. I know these guys are super-smart and well regarded in their field but I tend to take it for granted. James said quietly at one stage "Yeah Matt is pretty much the go-to man in Australia now on brain anatomy".
James has been filmed talking off the cuff about dementia - he has a terrific command of his subject, I guess naturally since he runs an institute devoted to it. As there was no script I felt like I had to transcribe what he said to have a basis for editing and matching graphics to his comments.
As its over 20 minutes worth, I googled how to convert speech-to-text; not that hard if you are speaking into the microphone on your computer, but a bit fiddly to organise if the source is a recording. But I did it, and the result (although it needed cleaning up) was outstanding. Without any training in understanding James' voice, it correctly transcribed "neurodegenerative", "neurofibrillary", "cytoskeleton", and "proteinaceous". "Symptomology" it got right most of the time but in a few spots that came up as "supermodel".
I am also filling in for a friend who works as a designer at Tourism Tasmania for two weeks. They will throw work to me that can't wait for her return - although we are two and a half days in, and nothing has come yet. I am sure she knocked herself out to get ahead of the curve before she left; and everyone will probably prefer to have the Key Woman work on their stuff if possible.
Another job I just finished was logos, banners and packaging for Cashew Creamery - they make non-dairy ice cream from cashews.
I just realised I haven't mentioned the Tasmania Advertising and Design Awards that I attended in February - the House of Fudge packaging was a finalist in the Print Graphics category. I'll blog that whole experience separately; I was actually also on the jury.
OK, time to go and animate some brains.
Tuesday, March 11, 2014
Ketchup
Time for a catch-up blog. I will go through the family one by one.
Elf is working virtually full-time until at least the end of June. She is coping OK with that. She really enjoys her current boss. She feels much more appreciated for the amazing range of skills she has and her no-fuss way of just getting things done. Elf is the family gardener and the continuing lack of rain is an irritant, but I secretly think she enjoys spending an hour out there in the evening just hosing.
I have had three months of very little work in the freelance design world. Several mooted projects were put on ice, and combined with the usual summer downturn it has been a pretty thin time. Elf took on extra hours as a consequence. Work is now starting to cascade from everywhere, which is a relief. You do wish it would even out a bit though.
I had one karma moment which signified the turnaround. A client I worked with last year rang, and I was pretty disappointed when instead of a design job, she wanted me to meet and mentor a young designer, for free of course. I said yes, but actually had to borrow cash from Elf to cover the cost of two coffees. So I didn’t go into it feeling like Mr. Successful Designer With A Lot To Offer. During our one-hour meeting I had contact from two new clients. [One located across the road from the cafe I was in at the time]. This after 3 months of tumbleweeds blowing through my office. Since then almost everything on-hold has come off-hold and various new projects have been sprung on me.
I am starting a new design/blogging project collaborating with Dugald Jellie, who last year blogged Richmond’s footy season under the name Tiger Tiger Burning Bright. Stand by for details when we launch in time for Round 2. Yeah, well we are playing Gold Coast away in Round 1 so it hardly counts, alright?
Michael is doing a maths extension program at the Uni each Friday. He has finally got his way and we are canning his guitar lessons after the one today. He’s more of a piano guy. He is making beautiful music on it, and his guitar teacher suggested we just expose him to as much piano music as possible. Michael had a fantastic day at the school athletics carnival - he has finally accepted that it is important to participate as much as possible. He went in just about everything, and won his 200m and the sack race, as usual. He has a 100% record in sack races, usually winning by half the length of the track.
Marcus is now settled in at a new soccer club, Hobart Olympia. It’s a bit remote by local standards; but then again on Sunday I broke my previous best and got us there from home in 13 minutes. So – not really that far. He played his first game of the year on Sunday, wearing the blue of Olympia after about 110 games for South Hobart and Central Region, all in red, going back to 2008. So that was weird.
He is recovering well from the cactus incident. High school has been undemanding yet interesting enough for him so far. He just got an A+ on his first Chinese test. He will be learning the flute, and has been given one of Imp’s two(!) Jacki was also a junior flautist so there is some pedigree behind the lad. Time to start playing some Jethro Tull.
Elf is working virtually full-time until at least the end of June. She is coping OK with that. She really enjoys her current boss. She feels much more appreciated for the amazing range of skills she has and her no-fuss way of just getting things done. Elf is the family gardener and the continuing lack of rain is an irritant, but I secretly think she enjoys spending an hour out there in the evening just hosing.
I have had three months of very little work in the freelance design world. Several mooted projects were put on ice, and combined with the usual summer downturn it has been a pretty thin time. Elf took on extra hours as a consequence. Work is now starting to cascade from everywhere, which is a relief. You do wish it would even out a bit though.
I had one karma moment which signified the turnaround. A client I worked with last year rang, and I was pretty disappointed when instead of a design job, she wanted me to meet and mentor a young designer, for free of course. I said yes, but actually had to borrow cash from Elf to cover the cost of two coffees. So I didn’t go into it feeling like Mr. Successful Designer With A Lot To Offer. During our one-hour meeting I had contact from two new clients. [One located across the road from the cafe I was in at the time]. This after 3 months of tumbleweeds blowing through my office. Since then almost everything on-hold has come off-hold and various new projects have been sprung on me.
I am starting a new design/blogging project collaborating with Dugald Jellie, who last year blogged Richmond’s footy season under the name Tiger Tiger Burning Bright. Stand by for details when we launch in time for Round 2. Yeah, well we are playing Gold Coast away in Round 1 so it hardly counts, alright?
Michael is doing a maths extension program at the Uni each Friday. He has finally got his way and we are canning his guitar lessons after the one today. He’s more of a piano guy. He is making beautiful music on it, and his guitar teacher suggested we just expose him to as much piano music as possible. Michael had a fantastic day at the school athletics carnival - he has finally accepted that it is important to participate as much as possible. He went in just about everything, and won his 200m and the sack race, as usual. He has a 100% record in sack races, usually winning by half the length of the track.
Marcus is now settled in at a new soccer club, Hobart Olympia. It’s a bit remote by local standards; but then again on Sunday I broke my previous best and got us there from home in 13 minutes. So – not really that far. He played his first game of the year on Sunday, wearing the blue of Olympia after about 110 games for South Hobart and Central Region, all in red, going back to 2008. So that was weird.
He is recovering well from the cactus incident. High school has been undemanding yet interesting enough for him so far. He just got an A+ on his first Chinese test. He will be learning the flute, and has been given one of Imp’s two(!) Jacki was also a junior flautist so there is some pedigree behind the lad. Time to start playing some Jethro Tull.
Monday, November 12, 2012
Dianthus "Rebekah"
One of my new workmates at PMA is Joe Chelkowski, who takes most of the photos. And as you can see, he is pretty damn good. Images like this are a joy to work with.
Sunday, November 04, 2012
My work colleague
 |
| "I assume you are here about the silly games? Come this way." |
The sheer freedom of my lance is breathaking
I began last week with no work to do after my regular Monday gig. Practically nothing lined up in the future even. And - I was OK with it. Weather is warming up, got some fat books to read. Put the feet up, kick back and live mostly on instant noodles. Nice. But then the phone started ringing and I was run off my feet all week. One of the jobs was some fix ups on a big project that I had worked on at Roar, Founders and Survivors: Storylines. I mumbled about the project back in 2011 and about our family story that was going to be a part of it.
I don’t think I have put any of it up for show and tell before. Here is an animation I did to accompany an original song by Adam Gibson, based on the Beni Griffiths story.
And here is the Griffiths home page, featuring Marcus and a picture of me as a grumpy toddler.
The site is not live yet but I will advise when you can go and look at the whole thing. There are about twenty detailed Storylines like this one. I have put up some more of the home pages I designed here.
Thursday, August 09, 2012
3 Pants Day
Work has drifted into the doldrums over the last couple of weeks. I have two large projects which are hanging, waiting for my client to move. I would dearly love to have a schedule for completing them, which my client must have worked out, but is not sharing with me at this stage. Sigh.
So, I am working through a list of various desk and non-desk jobs each day. Yesterday I presented my folio to a prospective client, them went home and mowed the lawn. I didn't feel like getting into my Good Pants again to go to the dentist, so I put on the fairly shabby Good Jeans instead. It was a three-pants type of day. I also bought a large bag of gravel, and collected the mail from over at my parents place.
That was relatively productive compared with today. I have been trying to nail a little problem I have with an animation special effect - three of my figures look good with it and three look pretty crummy. And I can't work out why. I have banged my head on that wall for a few hours today, but also eaten toast and read too much Olympic news online.
.jpg) |
| Why??? |
In the + column, I did walk Winston before the rain came, and I bought some gravel. Yeah!
I am feeling a little anxious about the future of freelancing. My regular Monday job starts next week - then at least I will be out from under my own feet for one day a week.
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Showreel time
I am making a showreel. I've never had one before. I have done lots of different kinds of moving pictures over the years, and now its time to wrap them up in a pacy greatest-hits combo with some kind of upbeat dance track - that seems to be what people do.
Then again - I would like to hold it down to around 80 seconds, and when I did a quick spin through iTunes looking for briefer tracks I came across Trio Bulgarka. They were a bit of a World Music sensation in the early 90s, and appeared on a Kate Bush album The Sensual World. They hail from Bulgaria and sound a bit like they are singing backwards - lots of "Veep vooooop vvvit vvvvap" sounds, in very strange time signatures. They often stop singing, then in unison squeal "Yip!". It's quite strange but endearing and might be just the thing.
Of course I have no right to use their music and that is a bit of a concern. I would quite like to cook up my own soundtrack but that will take ages and stop me getting the thing just done - perhaps I will aim to replace the music ASAP.
I have quite enjoyed opening up old files from 2006 or 2008 and seeing again the Photoshop layers that never made it to the finished piece, and the animation versions that I preferred but the client did not. I have just rebuilt a build-the-Sydney-Harbour-Bridge interactive I made, to make it more impressive in this new era of High Definition and massive screens. I can do that, you know.
I have been doing special effects for a documentary, this last week. I probably shouldn't blab about it, as the director is presenting my augmentations as reality. I did sign something at some point, which probably said "You will never reveal that the stuff that looks like night was filmed during the daytime". So - you didn't hear it from me. And I probably shouldn't put before 'n' after pics in my showreel.
Then again - I would like to hold it down to around 80 seconds, and when I did a quick spin through iTunes looking for briefer tracks I came across Trio Bulgarka. They were a bit of a World Music sensation in the early 90s, and appeared on a Kate Bush album The Sensual World. They hail from Bulgaria and sound a bit like they are singing backwards - lots of "Veep vooooop vvvit vvvvap" sounds, in very strange time signatures. They often stop singing, then in unison squeal "Yip!". It's quite strange but endearing and might be just the thing.
Of course I have no right to use their music and that is a bit of a concern. I would quite like to cook up my own soundtrack but that will take ages and stop me getting the thing just done - perhaps I will aim to replace the music ASAP.
I have quite enjoyed opening up old files from 2006 or 2008 and seeing again the Photoshop layers that never made it to the finished piece, and the animation versions that I preferred but the client did not. I have just rebuilt a build-the-Sydney-Harbour-Bridge interactive I made, to make it more impressive in this new era of High Definition and massive screens. I can do that, you know.
I have been doing special effects for a documentary, this last week. I probably shouldn't blab about it, as the director is presenting my augmentations as reality. I did sign something at some point, which probably said "You will never reveal that the stuff that looks like night was filmed during the daytime". So - you didn't hear it from me. And I probably shouldn't put before 'n' after pics in my showreel.
Working from home
I have been working from home for a month now, and I really love it. If I could have my job back I would really love that too, but that isn't going to happen, so I am embracing the new life.
On clear days Elf walks the boys down the rivulet track to school and continues into town to work. If it's wet or just freezing I drop them all off, then come back to base to start work. Just before my job at Roar ended, Elf's workplace moved from New Town into the centre of the city, which has enabled me to have the car at home each day.
I am still doing quite a bit of work for Roar, and I am driving down there most days to pick up and drop off big movie files. I have just increased our home upload/download quota, so I will probably just send the files that way more often now. But it's nice to see the people you are working with, and it's good for communication to actually get five minutes face to face now and then as you work through a project.
My office is set up in the front room downstairs. Winston has a big cushion to sit on beside me, but he prefers the sunnier space upstairs, where he has a choice of his ridiculously large doggie futon, or the front deck. The sun warms upstairs so effectively that on most days I can actually afford to leave the front and back deck doors open. Winston loves to survey the neighbourhood from the front, and can take himself out the back into the yard when he wants to.
It has taken me a few weeks to relax, and not try to do everything at once. I have a year planner on the wall, and a spreadsheet of work invoiced and jobs in the pipeline. All that is very reassuring - helps me feel that I do not have to squeeze billable work into every waking hour. I have been pretty disciplined about making a list for each day and working through it.
Things are quiet enough this week that I have had a chance to drop my main work computer in for overdue repairs and also get a start on my showreel. I know from experience at Roar that important things like those are carried on the Work In Progress list for months waiting for some "quiet time". When quiet time arrives everyone feels they have earned the right to just put their feet up and have a few beers. While I hope to be busy, and I have to maintain my gear and spend time on self-promotion whether I like it or not, I am looking forward to the time in spring or summer when I can just join Winston on the front deck with a foaming ale in the sun. Maybe on a Tuesday morning - why not?
On clear days Elf walks the boys down the rivulet track to school and continues into town to work. If it's wet or just freezing I drop them all off, then come back to base to start work. Just before my job at Roar ended, Elf's workplace moved from New Town into the centre of the city, which has enabled me to have the car at home each day.
I am still doing quite a bit of work for Roar, and I am driving down there most days to pick up and drop off big movie files. I have just increased our home upload/download quota, so I will probably just send the files that way more often now. But it's nice to see the people you are working with, and it's good for communication to actually get five minutes face to face now and then as you work through a project.
My office is set up in the front room downstairs. Winston has a big cushion to sit on beside me, but he prefers the sunnier space upstairs, where he has a choice of his ridiculously large doggie futon, or the front deck. The sun warms upstairs so effectively that on most days I can actually afford to leave the front and back deck doors open. Winston loves to survey the neighbourhood from the front, and can take himself out the back into the yard when he wants to.
It has taken me a few weeks to relax, and not try to do everything at once. I have a year planner on the wall, and a spreadsheet of work invoiced and jobs in the pipeline. All that is very reassuring - helps me feel that I do not have to squeeze billable work into every waking hour. I have been pretty disciplined about making a list for each day and working through it.
Things are quiet enough this week that I have had a chance to drop my main work computer in for overdue repairs and also get a start on my showreel. I know from experience at Roar that important things like those are carried on the Work In Progress list for months waiting for some "quiet time". When quiet time arrives everyone feels they have earned the right to just put their feet up and have a few beers. While I hope to be busy, and I have to maintain my gear and spend time on self-promotion whether I like it or not, I am looking forward to the time in spring or summer when I can just join Winston on the front deck with a foaming ale in the sun. Maybe on a Tuesday morning - why not?
Monday, February 27, 2012
Hot
We just had the hottest weekend in recorded Hobart history - 39° followed by 37°. Or maybe it got to 40° both days - depends how sensational you want to be about it. So I have renamed it Hotbart. Tomorrow we are expecting a top of 19, and then in no time we will back to the freezing sleet - so I don't expect Hotbart to catch on.
I have finished* the freelance job that's been keeping me up til all hours for the last 3 weeks. Finished it at 1.30am this morning, at approx 27°.
On Saturday morning before it got seriously hot, I took the boys to Little Athletics. Our involvement is nearing its end - we have agreed with the boys to skip it next summer. In any case, Michael recorded personal bests in the long jump, discus and 200 metres. Marcus did a monster discus throw of nearly 20 metres - that's a qualifier for the State Finals but you need two qualifiers, and that is the last discus competition for the season. I am just glad I was there to see it - I tend to miss a lot of Marcus's Under 10 events while I am following Michael around trying to be helpful with the Under 8s.
*Hopefully it will not come back. Hopefully.
I have finished* the freelance job that's been keeping me up til all hours for the last 3 weeks. Finished it at 1.30am this morning, at approx 27°.
On Saturday morning before it got seriously hot, I took the boys to Little Athletics. Our involvement is nearing its end - we have agreed with the boys to skip it next summer. In any case, Michael recorded personal bests in the long jump, discus and 200 metres. Marcus did a monster discus throw of nearly 20 metres - that's a qualifier for the State Finals but you need two qualifiers, and that is the last discus competition for the season. I am just glad I was there to see it - I tend to miss a lot of Marcus's Under 10 events while I am following Michael around trying to be helpful with the Under 8s.
*Hopefully it will not come back. Hopefully.
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Busy
I am busy like a beaver, like a bee, like a beluga whale - those guys are the busiest. And I have not been getting much sleep. I have been making mistakes - mostly small ones, but I got the time wrong for indoor soccer last night and we had to forfeit. I feel pretty bad about that, with all the guys missing their game. Apart from anything else its going to cost me $48.
I am doing a large freelance design job in my spare time, which has kept me up at nights. The Founders and Survivors convict history thing we are doing at my day job is getting more intense and I was there until midnight last night working on a video promo for it. We are spending nearly as much time making slick promo packages for it as we are actually making it - but they are essential because without them no-one will cough up money for us to finish it.
Some snippets of a my "digital story" are here. As well as building the whole thing (with a progammer and another designer) I am one of the 16 or so people who has been given an original song to make a clip for. I am doing it with very laborious hand-drawn animation, at the clunk-clunk-clunk low rate of 6 frames per second. Sadly I really do not like the song I've been given, and sadder still it runs to over 5 minutes. So that's about 2000 frames, and I can't afford to be too repetitive because the song got in first with that tactic.
In any case the animation is a fun job, but I am not being paid to do it over and above salary - it's just got to happen somehow while everything else still gets done. If I want it to be any good I am going to have to put my own time into it ... and I don't know if I'm prepared to do that when I don't like the song. Sigh.
The other new thing I am doing suddenly is Proper Soccer. I am now training on Thursday night, playing indoor soccer on Friday night (stuff-ups permitting) and playing outdoors on Saturday. I had my first proper Saturday game today and felt like I did quite well. I have lost a bit of weight since I've been training and am actually catching opponents when I chase them now. I am rediscovering my love for defending - I actually love the negativity. Getting in front of your opponent and getting a head or a toe or anything to the ball to stop him getting it - I dig it. We lost 2-1 though.
So - apologies for the long gaps in blogging. Sometimes real life intervenes.
I am doing a large freelance design job in my spare time, which has kept me up at nights. The Founders and Survivors convict history thing we are doing at my day job is getting more intense and I was there until midnight last night working on a video promo for it. We are spending nearly as much time making slick promo packages for it as we are actually making it - but they are essential because without them no-one will cough up money for us to finish it.
Some snippets of a my "digital story" are here. As well as building the whole thing (with a progammer and another designer) I am one of the 16 or so people who has been given an original song to make a clip for. I am doing it with very laborious hand-drawn animation, at the clunk-clunk-clunk low rate of 6 frames per second. Sadly I really do not like the song I've been given, and sadder still it runs to over 5 minutes. So that's about 2000 frames, and I can't afford to be too repetitive because the song got in first with that tactic.
In any case the animation is a fun job, but I am not being paid to do it over and above salary - it's just got to happen somehow while everything else still gets done. If I want it to be any good I am going to have to put my own time into it ... and I don't know if I'm prepared to do that when I don't like the song. Sigh.
The other new thing I am doing suddenly is Proper Soccer. I am now training on Thursday night, playing indoor soccer on Friday night (stuff-ups permitting) and playing outdoors on Saturday. I had my first proper Saturday game today and felt like I did quite well. I have lost a bit of weight since I've been training and am actually catching opponents when I chase them now. I am rediscovering my love for defending - I actually love the negativity. Getting in front of your opponent and getting a head or a toe or anything to the ball to stop him getting it - I dig it. We lost 2-1 though.
So - apologies for the long gaps in blogging. Sometimes real life intervenes.
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Wisdom from the back page of a savings passbook
Monday, June 13, 2011
Awkward
It's school holidays at the moment, but I am working through them, as I have no leave left. If I was easily distracted I would now start talking about Nick Drake's lovely album Five Leaves Left, but I have an iron-willed determination to stick to the subject which is: unisex toilets.
As I have mentioned often, I work in a rambling complex of old stone warehouses joined together with ramps, metal stairs and mysterious fire doors. We have been there nearly a year now. Last week a sliding fire door opened behind me in the wall - a door that has been closed all that time, and we treat as if it was a bit of wall. A man no-one had seen before (looked a bit like John Hodgman) said "Hell-o!" and strolled into our office to check the fire extinguishers.
But – the toilets. There are two, and in a sane workplace there would be one for boys and one for girls. Instead they are both unisex. The nearest one also has the baby change table. There is a chair as well as the change table in the disabled cubicle, and that can only be for feeding, I guess. On occasions I have made the long trudge down from our office to the nearest toilet, turned the corner, and realised someone is on their way in for a nappy change and maybe a spot of breastfeeding. So I have backtracked and gone upstairs so we can both have some privacy.
On Tuesdays every week, a group of lovely older ladies convenes in the Arts Centre meeting room, all day. I'm not sure what they are there for, but of course they are another obstacle to quiet enjoyment of uncomplicated ablutions. Regularly on Tuesdays a workmate will come back into the office with that look of shame and anger on his face that says "I just unavoidably disgusted an old lady".
At least the Tuesday Ladies know what they are dealing with. As the centre is open to the public, arguably half the people using the toilets are visitors. Based on observations, I would say that of those, 90% have done a lot of tentative searching for some kind of "mens" or "womens" indicators, and then have seen someone coming out, and either thought "ah - unisex" or just "ah - there is a person of my gender - I am going in there no questions asked before I burst".
In some hair-raising cases, ladies have only been acquainted with the unisex aspect when they have opened the outer sliding door suddenly, just as I have been about to open it from the other side. Or they are applying some lippy in the mirror when I flush and step out behind them. (I want to stress that I have been just as surprised as they.) No-one has screamed, yet.
The acme of awkward situations crops up in the school holidays. The Faerie Shop Pty Ltd runs Faerie School for little girls, aged about 5 - 8, in the same meeting room. They are all gussied up with lacy dresses in pink, mauve and purple, and wings of course. They do Faerie Crafts and watch Faerie Films and god knows what else all day, guided by adult Faeries with bigger wings.
Sometimes the adult Faeries take groups of girls to the toilet. Do they mention in advance that, through no fault of his own, they might meet a large unshaven man in there? It seems not. Do they suggest that if this happens to not stare at him in horror, as though he is a repugnant troll? It seems not.
Do they mention the possibility that the large man might say "hello girls!" to them brightly, in an attempt to defuse the situation? And that maybe the best thing would be for everyone to just act normal and say "hello" back, including the grown-up Faerie?
It seems not.
As I have mentioned often, I work in a rambling complex of old stone warehouses joined together with ramps, metal stairs and mysterious fire doors. We have been there nearly a year now. Last week a sliding fire door opened behind me in the wall - a door that has been closed all that time, and we treat as if it was a bit of wall. A man no-one had seen before (looked a bit like John Hodgman) said "Hell-o!" and strolled into our office to check the fire extinguishers.
But – the toilets. There are two, and in a sane workplace there would be one for boys and one for girls. Instead they are both unisex. The nearest one also has the baby change table. There is a chair as well as the change table in the disabled cubicle, and that can only be for feeding, I guess. On occasions I have made the long trudge down from our office to the nearest toilet, turned the corner, and realised someone is on their way in for a nappy change and maybe a spot of breastfeeding. So I have backtracked and gone upstairs so we can both have some privacy.
On Tuesdays every week, a group of lovely older ladies convenes in the Arts Centre meeting room, all day. I'm not sure what they are there for, but of course they are another obstacle to quiet enjoyment of uncomplicated ablutions. Regularly on Tuesdays a workmate will come back into the office with that look of shame and anger on his face that says "I just unavoidably disgusted an old lady".
At least the Tuesday Ladies know what they are dealing with. As the centre is open to the public, arguably half the people using the toilets are visitors. Based on observations, I would say that of those, 90% have done a lot of tentative searching for some kind of "mens" or "womens" indicators, and then have seen someone coming out, and either thought "ah - unisex" or just "ah - there is a person of my gender - I am going in there no questions asked before I burst".
In some hair-raising cases, ladies have only been acquainted with the unisex aspect when they have opened the outer sliding door suddenly, just as I have been about to open it from the other side. Or they are applying some lippy in the mirror when I flush and step out behind them. (I want to stress that I have been just as surprised as they.) No-one has screamed, yet.
The acme of awkward situations crops up in the school holidays. The Faerie Shop Pty Ltd runs Faerie School for little girls, aged about 5 - 8, in the same meeting room. They are all gussied up with lacy dresses in pink, mauve and purple, and wings of course. They do Faerie Crafts and watch Faerie Films and god knows what else all day, guided by adult Faeries with bigger wings.
Sometimes the adult Faeries take groups of girls to the toilet. Do they mention in advance that, through no fault of his own, they might meet a large unshaven man in there? It seems not. Do they suggest that if this happens to not stare at him in horror, as though he is a repugnant troll? It seems not.
Do they mention the possibility that the large man might say "hello girls!" to them brightly, in an attempt to defuse the situation? And that maybe the best thing would be for everyone to just act normal and say "hello" back, including the grown-up Faerie?
It seems not.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
The Stain
I had a really interesting day at work yesterday, sitting in a meeting beside historian Hamish Maxwell-Stuart. He has been working on a massive project called Founders and Survivors which we are now joining. If you are interested in convict history and genealogy, it's worth a look.
The records of the 73,000 convicts that came to Tasmania are so thorough, and so dense, that they are actually one of the best sources in the world for doing comparative research about populations. Although it is from a time before photography, the convicts’ appearance was noted in detail, together with any scars and tattoos. All of this is fascinating to dig through.
One of the things that had never occurred to me before is that any convict story found by tracing back from the descendants, is going to be an atypically happy story. Generally only successful convicts lived long enough to have children, so if there are defendants living today, they will usually be able to trace back to a convict who served their sentence, got some land and kept out of trouble.
Hamish spoke a lot about "The Stain" - the stigma of having convicts in the family, which only started to fade in the 1970s. It was a perception reinforced by the colonial government - that the convicts were here primarily because they were wicked people. The fact that they were an essential labour force for getting the new colony off the ground meant that emancipation and rehabilitation could only be allowed to go so far - it was necessary to maintain a workforce in servitude. Before 1822 freed convicts and especially their children were given land grants. After that it was realised that with their own land these people would not be a pliable and controllable workforce. Wide-ranging limitations were imposed on ticket-of-leavers. Hamish says that you can argue the thesis that today's Tasmanian working class is essentially made up of the descendants of the convicts. While people now have a different attitude to their ancestors, the effects of 150 years of shame and silence are still felt today. To quote Hamish "The stain is real. It does its job and keeps people in place".
Despite this, some families made the climb out of the despised and feared convict class astonishingly quickly. Tasmania's first premier, Sir Richard Dry, was the son of a convict. Another surprise is the density of convict ancestors. It is not unusual for a current 6th generation Tasmanian to have 30 or more convict ancestors. One of the key things Founders & Survivors is doing is relating the convict records to the data from enlistment in Tasmania at the start of World War One. One bit of research has found that of the 100 men with memorials in Soldier's Walk, Hobart, 52 had convict ancestors - mostly great grandparents.
I didn't get a chance to buttonhole Hamish about our ancestor Beni Griffiths but hopefully over the duration of the project I might be able to winkle out of him some insights into how he managed to be transported for murder - usually a straightforward hanging offence. It's interesting that although I am pretty sure this is him in the Probation Book below, his crime is listed as housebreaking.
The records of the 73,000 convicts that came to Tasmania are so thorough, and so dense, that they are actually one of the best sources in the world for doing comparative research about populations. Although it is from a time before photography, the convicts’ appearance was noted in detail, together with any scars and tattoos. All of this is fascinating to dig through.
One of the things that had never occurred to me before is that any convict story found by tracing back from the descendants, is going to be an atypically happy story. Generally only successful convicts lived long enough to have children, so if there are defendants living today, they will usually be able to trace back to a convict who served their sentence, got some land and kept out of trouble.
Hamish spoke a lot about "The Stain" - the stigma of having convicts in the family, which only started to fade in the 1970s. It was a perception reinforced by the colonial government - that the convicts were here primarily because they were wicked people. The fact that they were an essential labour force for getting the new colony off the ground meant that emancipation and rehabilitation could only be allowed to go so far - it was necessary to maintain a workforce in servitude. Before 1822 freed convicts and especially their children were given land grants. After that it was realised that with their own land these people would not be a pliable and controllable workforce. Wide-ranging limitations were imposed on ticket-of-leavers. Hamish says that you can argue the thesis that today's Tasmanian working class is essentially made up of the descendants of the convicts. While people now have a different attitude to their ancestors, the effects of 150 years of shame and silence are still felt today. To quote Hamish "The stain is real. It does its job and keeps people in place".
Despite this, some families made the climb out of the despised and feared convict class astonishingly quickly. Tasmania's first premier, Sir Richard Dry, was the son of a convict. Another surprise is the density of convict ancestors. It is not unusual for a current 6th generation Tasmanian to have 30 or more convict ancestors. One of the key things Founders & Survivors is doing is relating the convict records to the data from enlistment in Tasmania at the start of World War One. One bit of research has found that of the 100 men with memorials in Soldier's Walk, Hobart, 52 had convict ancestors - mostly great grandparents.
I didn't get a chance to buttonhole Hamish about our ancestor Beni Griffiths but hopefully over the duration of the project I might be able to winkle out of him some insights into how he managed to be transported for murder - usually a straightforward hanging offence. It's interesting that although I am pretty sure this is him in the Probation Book below, his crime is listed as housebreaking.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Edgetables
I just thought up that name for my new greengrocers shop: purveyors of black carrots, blue tomatoes and tattooed pumpkins, maaaaaan.
Again I am going to gather my thoughts about the last week and get them down in blog form. It will be scattered and patchy - sorry in not-quite-advance-anymore.
So - I saw a man walking a large cat through the light bushy fringe of suburban Mt Nelson this morning. It was right at the edge of my vision, and I realised that what I had taken for a dog was too slinky yet self-important. The man had a newspaper under his arm. At first I thought (with joy) he had walked to the shop and back with cat at heel. In fact I think the cat probably roams through this bit of bush near his home, and appeared to meet him as he was almost to the spot where the general bush turned into his backyard.
I was at a soccer clinic with Marcus at the time. All the boys in his team were invited to come along to a "Regional Development Squad". At Under 9 I don't think there is any selection process. Any kids motivated enough to front up for more soccer on Sunday after playing on Saturday are welcome. Marcus really loved it, and made the perceptive comment, "That was really training, because we learned something. Our soccer practice is practice but it isn't training."
His team won 14-0 yesterday, against a team that was fielding some Grade 1 kids. It was obvious from the start that it was going to get lopsided. David takes the corners, and he is one of the few under 9s around that can actually get the ball up in the air - then its just a question of getting it to bounce off anyone, and a goal is pretty likely. Marcus and Felix however both scored impressive intentionally-headed goals. One of the smaller kids was carried off with an injury towards the end. We scored our fourteenth as the ball rolled between the goalie's legs. Groan. Not very good for anyone when it comes out like that. I asked around at the clinic today to find out why that team is playing such little kids, when they seemed to have enough big kids (they had 3 or 4 subs). The answer just seemed to be that the little kids wanted to do it.
To work then. Although I am a designer I like to do the proofreading as well. Anything I am typesetting, it just comes naturally to read it, and fact-check as well as spell-check. I think it's important that we get things right. Sometimes I am accused of being pedantic or some kind of quizmaster freak. A few things got on top of me this week and by Thursday I was fighting the urge to thump particular workmates, who wanted to interrupt my work to discuss particular corrections I had made.
On Friday afternoon the directors called up from one of the bars downstairs for us all to knock off and come down for a drink to celebrate finishing this particular project. They were a few drinks ahead of us, and love was in the air. We were all terrific, indispensable etc. One said "Heyyyy - congratulations, you're our first employee to make it to long service leave!" Apparently I am qualified for 3 months leave with pay. This is odd, because before we got our fridge-sized dog I enquired about LSS. We had half a mind to take the kids out of school for a term, and drive around Australia. At the time I was told it was 5 years away. So on Friday I asked if they were sure. The answer was "Um, pretty sure?"
I had two exciting invitations in the last week. One is to Government House for a reception to honour Amnesty International's 50th anniversary. I was pretty surprised as I volunteer on AI's market stall, but that's it. I'm not even a financial member. Still, I will climb into the suit and hopefully not let the prisoners of conscience down by using the wrong fork.
The other invitation was from a new online parenting magazine, to write blog posts for them. Once that is up and running I will put up links here. I warned them that parenting advice appears less in my blogs than, say, zebras. They seem unfazed.
OK, one last thing. I was invited to go to see Dave Graney last night but passed, as I thought I needed a quiet night. Then Elf announced we were going to My Friend The Chocolate Cake, the veteran acoustic combo. Imp and Ed came as well, and we all enjoyed it immensely.
They consist of piano, double bass, cello, violin, guitar and drums. The pianist, singer and main writer, David Bridie is one of Australia's great songwriters, and has a very distinctive voice. I don't think he has great vocal range but he is perfect for this music. The highlight for me was to see and hear the interactions between David and Hope Csutoros on violin, and particularly between Hope and Helen Mountford on cello. They just love playing together, you can tell. And they've been doing it for 21 years now. The bassist, Dean, is from Hobart. His Mum and Dad were taking tickets on the door.
Again I am going to gather my thoughts about the last week and get them down in blog form. It will be scattered and patchy - sorry in not-quite-advance-anymore.
So - I saw a man walking a large cat through the light bushy fringe of suburban Mt Nelson this morning. It was right at the edge of my vision, and I realised that what I had taken for a dog was too slinky yet self-important. The man had a newspaper under his arm. At first I thought (with joy) he had walked to the shop and back with cat at heel. In fact I think the cat probably roams through this bit of bush near his home, and appeared to meet him as he was almost to the spot where the general bush turned into his backyard.
I was at a soccer clinic with Marcus at the time. All the boys in his team were invited to come along to a "Regional Development Squad". At Under 9 I don't think there is any selection process. Any kids motivated enough to front up for more soccer on Sunday after playing on Saturday are welcome. Marcus really loved it, and made the perceptive comment, "That was really training, because we learned something. Our soccer practice is practice but it isn't training."
His team won 14-0 yesterday, against a team that was fielding some Grade 1 kids. It was obvious from the start that it was going to get lopsided. David takes the corners, and he is one of the few under 9s around that can actually get the ball up in the air - then its just a question of getting it to bounce off anyone, and a goal is pretty likely. Marcus and Felix however both scored impressive intentionally-headed goals. One of the smaller kids was carried off with an injury towards the end. We scored our fourteenth as the ball rolled between the goalie's legs. Groan. Not very good for anyone when it comes out like that. I asked around at the clinic today to find out why that team is playing such little kids, when they seemed to have enough big kids (they had 3 or 4 subs). The answer just seemed to be that the little kids wanted to do it.
To work then. Although I am a designer I like to do the proofreading as well. Anything I am typesetting, it just comes naturally to read it, and fact-check as well as spell-check. I think it's important that we get things right. Sometimes I am accused of being pedantic or some kind of quizmaster freak. A few things got on top of me this week and by Thursday I was fighting the urge to thump particular workmates, who wanted to interrupt my work to discuss particular corrections I had made.
On Friday afternoon the directors called up from one of the bars downstairs for us all to knock off and come down for a drink to celebrate finishing this particular project. They were a few drinks ahead of us, and love was in the air. We were all terrific, indispensable etc. One said "Heyyyy - congratulations, you're our first employee to make it to long service leave!" Apparently I am qualified for 3 months leave with pay. This is odd, because before we got our fridge-sized dog I enquired about LSS. We had half a mind to take the kids out of school for a term, and drive around Australia. At the time I was told it was 5 years away. So on Friday I asked if they were sure. The answer was "Um, pretty sure?"
I had two exciting invitations in the last week. One is to Government House for a reception to honour Amnesty International's 50th anniversary. I was pretty surprised as I volunteer on AI's market stall, but that's it. I'm not even a financial member. Still, I will climb into the suit and hopefully not let the prisoners of conscience down by using the wrong fork.
The other invitation was from a new online parenting magazine, to write blog posts for them. Once that is up and running I will put up links here. I warned them that parenting advice appears less in my blogs than, say, zebras. They seem unfazed.
OK, one last thing. I was invited to go to see Dave Graney last night but passed, as I thought I needed a quiet night. Then Elf announced we were going to My Friend The Chocolate Cake, the veteran acoustic combo. Imp and Ed came as well, and we all enjoyed it immensely.
They consist of piano, double bass, cello, violin, guitar and drums. The pianist, singer and main writer, David Bridie is one of Australia's great songwriters, and has a very distinctive voice. I don't think he has great vocal range but he is perfect for this music. The highlight for me was to see and hear the interactions between David and Hope Csutoros on violin, and particularly between Hope and Helen Mountford on cello. They just love playing together, you can tell. And they've been doing it for 21 years now. The bassist, Dean, is from Hobart. His Mum and Dad were taking tickets on the door.
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