Watch The Closing Doors.

No idea what's causing it, but I've been in a noir-ish kind of mood lately. Not depressed/sad/emo in particular really, but dark in a quiet, contemplative way. It's because a major chapter is closing in a few weeks; graduation and the national board exams are approaching fast, so anticipation of finally being done with school is building up. But I know I have to stay focused on finishing classes strongly and then pass the boards.

Anyway I dipped into Photoshop last night and came up with this. It reflects part of my current mood pretty well.

[source image via]

"Watch the closing doors" personally means that I need to be as self-aware of my current path in life as I can. This is actually quite important to me on a deeper level -- I've written about feeling lost before and while it was an interesting learning experience, I don't really want to feel that way anymore. Now, with a new chapter about to write itself, I want to make sure my steps are steady and I actually know where the hell I'm going ...

Photography: Peter Funch | Babel Tales.

Here's my second NYC post in three days. Hmmm ... maybe my subconscious is trying to tell me something.

Danish photographer Peter Funch (pronounced "funk") posts up on the same spot on city sidewalks and takes pictures of New Yorkers. Okay, nothing special there. But then he fires up Photoshop and does something undeniably awesome.

For a series entitled "Babel Tales", he photographs people who are similar in some sort of way -- flower-carriers, smokers, black-clad business people, even children -- and placed all of them into the same picture. Peep skills:


This is brilliant and hilarious stuff.

However, in a discussion about "Babel Tales" in Flickr's Hardcore Street Photography group, some people derided Funch's work as having "the same ... boring-ass cliches", being "one step away at most from advertising photography" and not being "honest [enough] in its untruthfulness" (WTF does that even mean?). People need to fall back with that. I can see how some might call it "gimmicky" but by the same token, so is bokeh and HDR. You can't front like this didn't involve some fair amount of talent behind both the lens and the keyboard. To my amateur eyes, this series is quite original, well-executed and technically seamless. I view it as a playful, entertaining exercise in capturing people on the right day in the right moment and, if you wanna stretch it, a study in human nature.

Make sure your Photoshop Selection Tool game is strong if you want to emulate this.

Videogame Nostalgia, Real & Imagined.

[My recent post on Paul Robertson's work serves as partial inspiration for the following.]

I kind of miss playing videogames.

If you're a 70s baby like me, memories of your childhood are most likely punctuated by colorful visions of videogames played on consoles beginning with the Atari 2600 (yes, even square-ass bootleg Pac-Man) and the occasional epic excursion to the almighty video arcade¹. Over time, console technology progressively advanced and games became better in every conceivable way -- as did my gaming experiences themselves. I acutely remember:

• playing Donkey Kong, wide-eyed, for the first time on the 2600;
• the incredible rush of beating Contra on the NES;
• attempting to play MarioKart 64, out of control and happily drunk as hell on cheap vodka²;
• the awe at seeing Gran Turismo racers hug corners on the PlayStation;
• being enthralled by the painstakingly-crafted Grand Theft Auto 3 on the PS2;
• the intense satisfaction of stomping alien ass in Gears Of War on the XBox 360 ...

... among numerous other fun memories. However, as much as I like watching and playing videogames, I don't think I've ever considered myself a "gamer." The last console I actually owned was a PS2, and even that was given to me as an awesome gift -- I don't think I would've bought it for myself otherwise. And currently, there's not a videogame system to be found in my apartment.

So I guess the thing I miss the most about videogames is the social aspect of playing, whether it's trying to blast each other's goofy pixelated tank in Combat, shredding axes with family members in Guitar Hero or running around on Mongooses³ with three friends in the Halo universe. Playing these games, competitively or cooperatively, with other people is the biggest reason I was drawn to them in the first place. Even if I did have my old PS2 here, I really don't think I would play. There's no one to share the experience with.

Switching gears: Videogame box art, like the playing experience, has definitely improved over the years and deserves its own genre (peep some classic artwork and some awesome fan-made pieces). But what would the artwork look like if videogames had been around back in the 1950s-1960s? Every week, Something Awful holds Photoshop Phridays, where people create images based on a certain theme. Recently the concept was "Classy Games" where artists were challenged to come up with retro-inspired artwork to grace a videogame box. Browse the submissions here [Part 1, Part 2, Bonus Images], but owing to my love of minimalist, clean design, here are the ones that caught my eye:

Some of these are dope enough to frame. Enjoy.

¹Speaking of arcades, reading this thread made me strangely sad and nostalgic. Biggie, you were right -- things done changed.
²We were ultimately unsuccessful at "racing" and predictably, motion sickness and vomiting ensued. I do not recommend this. Actually wait, I do. You only live once, you know.
³Mongeese?

What Would Your Album Cover Look Like?

I boosted this creative idea, involving random Website search results, from a post on one of Okayplayer's forums.

Here are the rules:

1. The first article you get from Wikipedia is the name of your artist/band.
   
   
2. The last four or five words of the very last quote on this site is the title of your album.
   
   
3. The third picture from Flickr's Explore page, no matter what it is, will be your album cover art.
   
   
4. Use Photoshop or similar to put it all together.

Here's the Wikipedia article, quotation and photo that came up. After a bit of color, image and text manipulation in Photoshop, the results look like this:


I think the three variables worked together quite well! So ... my album cover apparently looks like something straight out of Lilith Fair. Might as well make this a full-fledged creative writing exercise:

Tsukigata (or "Tsuki" as her fans affectionately called her) sang melancholy ballads about betrayal, loss and redemption in a plaintive, clear mezzo-soprano. The album, released in 1998, was embraced by critics and given favorable reviews in Time and Entertainment Weekly. However, it was only a moderate commercial success due to mishandled marketing through the mainstream media outlets, being overshadowed by heavyweights Sarah McLachlan and Liz Phair.

Ultimately, Even When We Think We Don't was a minor, yet bright, footnote in pop music history. Tsukigata is still working in the music industry, albeit behind the scenes as a producer and song-writer.

Or something like that. Hey, it could've happened.

Try it out -- and let me know how it goes!