I'm TRYING

Yesterday my boss bought me a shiny new 6x8 Wacom tablet! I've been using the old cheap model with food stuck to it for far too long. It works, its just not that good for drawing. I tell myself I need to start practicing drawing in photoshop, but never find the time to do it (im really trying to narrow my hobbies down to one...maybe 2...3? 3's a good number.)

I don't see it at all, but people say my drawings always end up looking like me.



長い間ちっぽけなワコッムのタブレットが持っていたけど絵を描くためにあまりよくないから、社長が新しいワコッムの６ｘ８タブレットをくれました！Photoshopでいつも絵を描こう描こうと思うけどやっぱなかなか時間がないな～。趣味が多いすぎるからな。もっとよく絵を描きたい！

僕がこうと思わないけど、みんなは僕が描いた絵はいつも僕に似てるって。どう？似てる？

Burgers anyone?

I had felt sick since that drink from the water fountain.

So I'm walking home and it hits me. Halfway through the 45 minute trek, as the gag reflex kicks in, I plug my nose, hold my hand over my mouth, and manage to keep myself from losing my lunch all over the sidewalk in view of the entire neighborhood.

I couldn't believe it.

I didn't throw up! And just because I had covered my mouth and plugged my nose!

I was never going to throw up again, ever! I had discovered the secret trick. Who knew it was so simple? Maybe this was my new mutant power I had been waiting to develop! I smiled to myself the whole way home.

I was eleven. It was November. Sixth grade was tough, but throwing up? I had that completely under control.

The next 3 days I must have run to the toilet about 10 times, and not just to pee. I felt so defeated. What about the trick I learned? It worked when walking home, but it sure didn't work that evening during reruns of The Golden Girls.

Following those 3 days of pure joy, I made a vow. I had clearly lost the magic I had the other day, but I promised myself and God (no, really) that I would never, EVER throw up again. No matter what.

That promise lasted a solid 15 and a half years.

Anyone who knows me decently well knows that I am deathly, and I do mean deathly afraid of throwing up. I actually would rather die. You know in Lord of the Rings when the ring is being forged at the beginning of the movie? I would rather have that same hot, molten metal poured into my eyes, while rabid wolves tear violently at my rib cage to reach my beating heart than throw up one time in the next hundred years. That or a quick bullet to the back of the head, whichever is more convenient at the moment.

Last Saturday my family invited me over for a bbq. I saw the pictures of the last bbq on my mom's blog and got jealous. Dad was fixing burgers and I hadn't been over there in a few weeks, so why not? As usual I was a bundle of exploding energy, running around outside with my sisters, throwing rocks at the neighbor kids, charging up and down the hallway with the dogs, and pretty much just being me.

We eat outside on the deck with the new...canopy thing, and basically just have a good time. Eatin' outside, makin' up songs with Leah, watchin' the dogs eat mosquito hawks, you know? After a good burger, what's better than watching Shrek 3? Hadn't seen it yet, so hey I'm down.

About...oh 30 minutes into the movie, my stomach is killing me. Nobody better touch me cause I must have eaten too much. It keeps getting worse. Man I really do feel sick, this is weird.

The peach cobbler's ready to eat, so everyone except me scoops heaping helpings into bowls and smack after smack, devours the sticky, slimy peachyness. I can hear the cobbler squishing in their mouths, I can feel the moist peaches in my mouth and I'm not even eating it. Its grossing me out. I can't take anymore.

"I have to go to the bathroom"

For ten minutes I sit in front of the toilet.

"There's no way, there's no way. I'm fiiiiiiine. I'll be ooohhhkay."

"Don't....don't woooorry Ry, you're not gonna throw up, it's all in your head."

.....

Ok, I feel really....light. No....heavy. What's this strange feeling, it's like...there's this mist in the bathroom. Is that smoke? I can't really see very clearly right now. Why do I hear a high pitch... whistling? Mom's not making tea, she never makes tea. Maybe....maybe if I just smile I'll be ok. (Please keep in mind my fear right now. Don't laugh)

I smile. I'm in a happy place, yeah. This is just fine, just wait...wait...it out....it'll.........paaassss. No, no ok this is real, no no no no

Those hamburgers didn't taste as good the second time.

Or the third.

The fourth.

aaaand the fifth.

......

It's funny how under normal circumstances I avoid touching the toilet like the plague. Anything other than my butt cheeks are absolutely off limits. Even flushing it is a bit gross for me. So why is it that in your most vulnerable moment, you will lay your head on the toilet seat. Not even the lid, the INSIDE of the toilet. You know the place we like to pretend pee doesn't collect on. I had absolutely no qualms with my hair and my face touching every bit of that filthy, germ invested monster (my parent's toilet is actually very clean as toilet's go, but still...gross).

Writing this made me realize I owe someone an apology. So...

I'm sorry God. I broke my promise.

...

BUSY.

You can see right through him...and he flies.

Last year I lived with a few guys out in Mira Mesa. We all bonded really well, went on various adventures, experimented with various oatmeal recipes, had a petting zoo in the backyard we charged admission to, practiced our golf swing in the front yard, colored on the walls with crayons...you know, normal guy things.

All except one. The mysterious, elusive roommate no one ever met, and rarely saw. Many of my friends refuse to believe he exists, but I am here to prove you all wrong, and myself right, once and for all. I have seen him. I have proof. After months of trying I was finally able to get photographic evidence.

The other day I was at Rolando's house (the place I used to live), and while he was showing me how to make better use of my camera, I saw something move in the hallway behind us. I fumbled with the camera, raised it to my face, ripped off the lens cap, and as he was climbing the stairs snapped this picture:
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wait for it...
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wait for it...
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I expect no more doubts from any of you.

My baby.

This is a shot taken by Ro of me with with my new baby girl. Isn't she beautiful?

I'm a Believer!

My mom used to poke fun at me for believing everything people told me. You could tell me something crazy like the dinosaurs in Jurassic Park were real, and sadly, I would have believed it. Eventually I outgrew my childish gullibility, but she continued to tell people how easily I could be deceived. Determined to prove her wrong, I became who I am today - Ryan the skeptic. The one who absolutely will not be convinced something is true, unless it is reported from the most reliable news source, but even after that I'm often still unable to swallow it.

Rolando and I shared the same house for 4 months I discovered he was a drummer/bass player for the band Project Analogue. He told me this only after I asked if he was a musician when seeing the practice drum kit in his room. He had set it up beside his bed, likely due to a lack of owning a proper stool. Now...this would be ideal for one who's first thought after waking is "I gotta play drums-IMMEDIATELY." But on one finger, I can count the number of times I actually heard those drums.

I never believed him when he'd tell me he had to go to band practice.

I thought perhaps his "band" was a codename for his group of friends who played first person shooter games online, like Counter Strike. Not wanting to sound like a complete dork, he masked his obsession over videogames with the identity of a cool rock band.

Other reasons for my skepticism:

-What kind of bass player doesn't actually own a bass guitar?

-He never left for these practices with an instrument in his hands.

-His band's Myspace site at that time, had ZERO photos of him, only of some random ninjas and pirates.

-The one video he showed me of "his" band was shot at a party in a room with just enough light to make out some dark shapes playing instruments.

Well, last night, at a seedy club in an equally seedy area, complete with creepy old homeless men carrying hockey sticks in dark alleys, I saw my old roommate on stage rocking the bass like I'd never seen before. Because really...I'd never seen him play before.



These two other guys and I were without a doubt, the loudest, most abnoxious people watching the show. But hey, we had to support our bro. Besides, no band wants to play for a dud audience.



I believe him now. But I'm pretty sure that wasn't his guitar.

While I certainly feel I have proved her wrong, to this day my mom still thinks I will fall for anything you say.

(All photos taken by someone else with a real camera)

Dreamer

On cgtalk.com, or for you noobs cgsociety.org, there is a daily sketch group with a different topic for each day. If work wasn't killing me I'd love to do a sketch everyday, but I'll do it as often as I can. Today's topic was dreamer. I had already done a similar sketch but thought it fit in my strange mind.



Every kid LOVES letting a balloon fly off into the sky. We dream about where it might go, where it might land, if it will go into space...will the passengers of an airplane see it floating amongst the clouds? Well what if balloons really dreamed of nothing more than being set free? All those times my parents told me not to do it, the balloon was really insisting...I know I wouldn't want to be tied to a string and made to be held down by someone's hand my whole life.

On the Road. Chapter 3

With the number of times I road on the Shinkansen (Bullet Train), I still can't believe I don't have a picture inside one.



This is the last thing I saw leaving Osaka on my way to Kanazawa. After spending about 30 minutes walking up and down the train, I was finally able to figure out which seat I was in. Even got to walk through the glorious smoking car on my way to find it. That's right, there is a car on every Shinkansen in which every man and woman smokes like a chimney for the entire ride. Pray you don't ever get stuck in that car during rush hour. It is what I imagine hell to be like.



Kanazawa station. I thought this entry to the station was beautiful. You really feel the richness of this area. Its in the northwest of Japan, so it is FREEZING cold, and everything is of a very high quality. But that is of course why I came to Kanazawa. By the time I found my hostel and then walked all the way down to the park, it was dark, and closed, so I went to get a bowl of delicious ramen, rest up for the night, and head out early the next morning so I could take my time before nightfall.



Working my way up the giant stone steps leading to the castle, this "little" guy greeted me. I wish I had put my hand next to it. Pretend I put a quarter next to it...it would be a little bit bigger than the head.







This is the gate leading to one of the most famous parks in all of Japan. I was so excited to get here, I wanted to save it for last so I spent as much time wandering the castle grounds as possible before going in.

Well...

My camera battery started to die. I HAD to find a convenience store and buy some more batteries before I went into the park. Anywhere you go in Japan, you can throw a rock and you will hit a convenience store. Stand outside an 7-11 (yeah they have them there), and you can usually see another one just down the street, with 2 different convenience store chains in between. Anywhere that is, except the vicinity of Kanzawa Park. After all that walking to find batteries, to no avail, in my cheap Converse shoes (i'll never do that again) I basically wanted to just die.

But I had come all this way. I had to see what was so wonderful about this park.

If it weren't filled to the brim with tourists, I could see how it could be called one of the most tranquil and beautiful gardens on earth. But dude...there were a grip of tourists.



This is it. The one picture I took right when I entered before my battery died.

Sucks.

On the Road. chapter 2

After a good nights sleep on a futon in a room the size of a walk in closet, it was time to return to Nara in the early morning. Lucky for me there was a constant light mist of rain which kept most people at home. Once I passed thousands of stone lanterns, I came to a mountain path with many forks and twists to get lost in. For hours I enjoyed every peaceful moment of aimless wandering.



Once reaching the top, I found a large temple full of, not tourists, but monks! There wasn't another camera, or pair of jeans in sight. I felt like I had slipped back to a time long forgotten by today's society in Japan. There were no cell phones here, no vending machines or convenience stores. No sounds of Japanese pop music coming through speakers in the lamp posts. Most importantly...no blonde Japanese.





I hung around until dark, hoping to see the stone lanterns lit in all their glory. When I realized they weren't going to be, I thought it best to get out of this place before night fell. There were no street lamps to guide my way, and those deer could make some pretty scary noises.

On my way down the mountain I came back to the temple with its doors now closed, but the warm light of the lanterns begged me to take a picture.



It was a great day of relaxed travelling.



Walking to the train station, I was hit with a hunger beyond measure. Under the cover of the shopping alley, searching for something cheap and big to eat, I heard a young guy singing his heart out and playing his acoustic like it was his last day on earth. I requested a few old Japanese 70s songs, which he suprisingly knew every word to, and chatted it up with him. Before I walked away, he asked a lady who was carrying atleast 15 shopping bags to take our picture, when his girlfriend was sitting right there the whole time like a lazy bum.



Can't remember his name anymore. But I'll never forget those teeth.



I made my way back to my hotel in the GHETTO of Japan, reading 星の王子様Hoshi no Oojisama (lit. Prince of the Stars or The Little Prince) on the way.

On the Road. chapter 1

My last class with Tetsuya Senei.



I had 2 weeks. 2 weeks before my flight left for America, and no more classes to attend. While I hadn't mastered Japanese just yet, there was still so much of the coutry I hadn't seen with my own eyes.

With a small backpack and nowhere in particular to go, I got on a night bus, which is designed to, in theory, allow one to sleep peacefully through the night, waking up at their destination refreshed and full of vigor to take on the day. I would wake up in Osaka, and take the short train trip to the beautiful city of Nara.

Well, I sat in front of a jerk.

The seats on these things rival a first class seat on an airplane. I could have been carrying a contra bass in front of me and still had room to spare. Because of this, everyone leans as far back as possible to allow for a comfortable and reclined night's rest. That is until the man behind me decided to lay with his back where his butt should have been, causing his knees to be blocking by seat from going back more than an inch or two. Of course, being the jerk that I am, when he started shaking my seat to wake me, I leaned back farther. He didn't appreciate this, and continued to shake my seat until I rose up for his wonderfully long legs.

What did I say to him?

Nothing. What could I say? You could hear a pin drop on this bus of sleeping people, so arguing was out of the question. Plus there's the nerve-wracking thought of "What if I say something stupid? What if he doesn't understand?" That would completely negate my authority. And so, like a pansy, I dealt with it.

I was not even slightly refreshed when I arrived.

But, I had a lot of exploring to do. And I was determined to do it, so after renting a bike for 500 yen, I pedaled my way around this ancient little town.

After riding up the street full of shops and restaurants, and eating a HUGE breakfast of eggs and rice I came to a park which I would find was bigger than I could have imagined.



The first thing I noticed was the abundance of deer running about. I had heard they were here but I figured there would be ten or so. No--They. Were. EVERYWHERE. Even without food you could get close enough with some stealthiness for some great pictures.



But put some food in your hand, and you don't even have to try. They will come to you, and attack you if necessary. I felt bad for this guy. Those deer were filthy.



I could not believe how empty this place was. Aside from the deer, it was extremely rare to see another sign of life. In a vast field of grass and a few scattered trees, I saw only this man, who wasn't having to compete with anyone for a picture of his tree.



This place was too big to explore in one day and I wanted to get back to my hotel to be well rested for the following day when I would explore on foot (those trails were almost ALL uphill. no fun on the rented one speed bike)