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7-28-02
Scary day at Index, above
the "Black chimney of Death"...AKA: Aries Chimney, Sue and
I.
"Hey buddy, I may need your help here!"
"What's the problem?", he said as he rappelled
over towards me on the steep cliff.
"My rope is jammed, and possibly being cut inside the
cams of a stuck Number 2 Friend. I can't climb up or down."
"Ooh man," he said, stopping his rappel 6 feet
away and peering into the crack where my rope was stuck, "You
are in a pickle".
"One of the cams rotated backwards under the upward
drag of the rope. Now the rope is jammed inside the jammed
Friend. It looks like the Friend is trying to scissor the
rope. I can barely get it to pull through at all and I definitely
can't climb"
"You know what you might have to do?" he said.
"Build a belay station right here. Anchor with slings
to gear up above you and untie from the rope. Pull the fifteen
feet of rope that got past the Friend back through the jammed
Friend until it's clear, then tie back into the rope. That
way you can at least finish the route, although you may have
to leave the Friend."
"Yeah, you're right...that would work." I said
with relief. Nothing like a second opinion from a calmer mind
to set things right. It's hard to think clearly when you are
gripped out of your gourd with a stuck rope on a 5.8 overhang
120 feet off the ground. I anchored with a chain of slings
to a couple Friends above me and spent a half hour tinkering
with the jam, finally getting the mess cleared out at the
expense of some scraped knuckles.
School is going well. My lessons are getting so popular that
people who aren't even in my classes are asking for copies
of my handouts. I write them carefully enough that one can
follow them without even hearing the lecture. I did a "Making
metal in Photoshop" lesson that has proven to be a big
hit. I can't take full credit for this one, since it is simply
a "New and Improved" update from something I learned
out of the "Photoshop 5.5 WOW Book" by Jack Davis.
I did write all the text, and make my own screen captures,
but the real brains behind the metal effect are the brilliant
authors of the WOW book.
7-24-02
Artist block. It's an overused
term for a very real condition. I've spent the week trying
to break through to some creative ideas in web design. Sunday
I painted at the Capital dome again. Some of the tourists
liked the painting, so it might be good, but I have a lot
of reservations about the handling of the shadows. It's clipped
to my easel out in the garage, awaiting my attention. Meanwhile,
I sit here at the computer trying to create an interface for
a large client. I've been through 10 generations of interfaces
on three different themes. Creating art that sells a product
is drastically different than simply setting up an easel on
a sunny day.
At night I dream about going back
to my blue collar job as a pressman and turning off my computers
for good. Without this little electronic box of pixels demanding
my attention night and day, I could come home to my easel
in the evenings and weekends and create art that satisfied
me and to hell with the advertising industry. No more worrying
about whether I had mastered a particular software well enough
to earn a living with it.
7-21-02
Went for a 19 mile bicycle ride
yesterday along an amazingly well maintained county bike
path South of Seattle. I've been hearing about this bike
path for years, but had never bothered to look it up. We started
off just to the East of the Willis street exit off Northbound
Highway 167 where the bike path can actually be seen going
under the freeway just before the exit. Get off the exit,
make two quick right turns and you end up at the parking lot.
While we were getting our bikes ready, we saw a bunch of strange
people sword fighting in an open grassy bowl. They had long
poles with duct taped foam hatchet blades, sickles and spears.
Many also had long martial arts swords with which they did
furious fencing, whacking each other about the head and body.
There appeared to be some rules: for example, if a weapon
made contact with a leg, they considered it chopped off, and
went down on their knees to continue fighting. If they contacted
the torso or head, they threw down their weapons and shook
hands. Between battles they would sit on the raised banks
of the bowl, hectoring each other from the shade. When the
shouts got to a certain volume, they would all rush out from
the trees and whack at each other in running groups. I've
never seen anything like it. Many of them were quite out of
shape, but it didn't seem to affect their fighting enthusiasm
as they gaily fought to the death, then rose again to battle
on.
We were a party of 5: Sue, my daughter
Lisa, plus one of my climbing partners M and his son. The
paved trail follows what looks like a flood control dike along
the East side of the Green river for more than a dozen miles.
The Green river (former haunt of the infamous Green River
killer) winds along through some very high class suburbs and
golf courses with killer views of Mount Rainier and lots of
lush green trees. Where the trail crosses roads and freeways,
it dips down underneath so one rarely has to worry about cars
or stoplights. Sue had a bunch of trouble with the bike she
was riding (it was adjusted for Clint) and just generally
not being used to long bike rides. The rest of us cruised
along without much effort, the way being almost entirely flat.
When we reached Highway 405, we turned South and pedaled back
to the car on the arrow straight Interurban bike path which
parallels the train tracks through the boring industrial area
underneath the power lines. I'd like to try the whole thing
on rollerblades next. M was saying he has done some 8 mile
rollerblade excursions.
My students this quarter are doing
some stunning work. I wish I had the bandwidth to put them
up on my server. It's a lot more fun teaching to minds that
are excited about learning.
7-16-02
My apology's to those of you
who come here for a regular read. When I get busy like this
I have to choose between writing about life and living it.
First on my list was getting up to speed with the four new
classes I'm teaching this quarter. After I felt comfortable
with those, I spent a day working on one of my freelance projects
and then last weekend I went climbing with Dave and M up at
Index town wall on Saturday and Exit 38 on Sunday. Index,
a former granite quarry, is an area where one sees a higher
caliber of climber due to the lack of pre-placed sport climbing
bolts. The routes there are predominately cracks of all sizes,
from tiny finger slots to full body jams. You will not get
up the routes unless you know how to place your own removable
protection, and thankfully the gym rats haven't figured that
out yet.
Despite the lack of bolts, there were
still traffic jams at the rap stations, but we were able to
get on the routes we wanted to climb, unlike the sport areas
where one has to wait in line, or move on until one sees something
empty. Best of all, there were no large parties of gangbangers
at all. Large parties can't climb in a multi-pitch area like
Index. There simply isn't enough room on the ledges for more
than a party of three at the outside. All the climbers had
an air of integrity as well, due to the experience that comes
with placing one's own protection. Climbing at Index felt
more like climbing used to feel before I got caught up in
the sport climbing craze. Climbing cracks is a painful learning
curve, but well worth the effort. Even Dave, the guy who got
me hooked on sport climbing was having fun leading crack routes.
He led a number of nice cracks, placing excellent protection...with
the exception of a couple cams, which can be troublesome for
anyone.
I conquered one of my old chimney
cracks, don't know what it's called anymore, but it's a flaring
body chimney about 35 feet high that allowed me passage, but
left me with a severely bruised and scraped left knee where
my knee pads slipped off as I sat on the leg while it was
braced across the slot. M and Dave cursed me loudly for leading
the "black chimney of death", but I was secretly
amused while they thrashed up the slot. Under certain conditions,
grace and cunning can overcome youth and vigor. If
they climb long enough, and travel around the West Coast they
may eventually learn the bizarre art of jamming your body
into a slot and climbing upward inch by inch. For many crack
climbers, body slots are the worst kind of crack, but for
me they are just another challenge.
It was fun hanging around with the guys
in the dark parking lot at the base of the cliff after a hard
day of climbing. I feel perfectly comfortable squatting in
the dirt cooking dinner on our propane Coleman. I don't seem
to need the luxuries many people take for granted. When I
am relaxing, I like life as simple as I can get it. Sunday
we drove down to Exit 38 where Dave led a very hard 5.10 overhang.
We have our differences, but when it comes to climbing, we
make a good team: I lead the hard cracks, he leads the hard
bolt lines and we both get to follow stuff we couldn't lead.
Other than the fact that he is 19 years younger, I think the
main reason he can pull those overhanging bolt lines is his
ability to do 23 pull-ups. I've not been able to get past
3 in years. My arms just don't like the strain.
7-7-02
Pulling the hangars apart in
my closet this morning, I saw an old tank top in decent condition
and pulled it out. It's a Nike top and and the logo, "speedo",
brought back memories. Several years ago, before I made the
switch into high tech and was working as a pressman, my foreman
used to kid me about the shirt. We both knew I was a reliable
and talented pressman, but speedy was not the first term that
came to mind in describing my abilities on the job. I never
lacked for a job, but pressman with my tendencies tended to
get put on second shift where our speed...or lack thereof...presents
a smaller scheduling problem.
Now that I am beginning to find my
niche as a creative person working in the general field of
Web Design, or education related to that field, I am happy
to report that speed has very little to do with my job, at
least in the form it's taken since leaving school 2 years
ago. The end product is what matters now, and I have an eye
for color and beauty that has nothing to do with speed and
everything to do with an exciting mix of creativity and technical
knowledge. We were supposed to have been bike riding today
on the Interurban trail, but rain has put the kibosh on our
plans. It drips heavily off the tall fir trees around the
house, the steel gray clouds blocking out the light.
Yesterday was a far different story,
bright and sunny. I painted the Capital Dome in Olympia for
several hours, finishing the black and white under drawing
nicely. I am always happy if I can at least get in a good
under drawing before quitting time. The better the under drawing,
the more likely I am to go down again and finish it in color.
I was nervous at first, worrying about what security would
think about an artist setting up an easel on the immaculate
lawn of the State Library building. After 3 state policemen
bicycled, strolled and motored past without a second glance
I decided I had nothing to worry about. The tourists were
harmless as well, and widely scattered. I only had three walk
up to the easel, and only one felt the need to ignore my Walkman
and interrupt my concentration. The structure is wickedly
complex with angles, curves, domes and columns interspersed
with acres of featureless gray granite confounding any casual
sketching attempt. Through sheer obstinacy I hung in there,
measuring, drawing, erasing and measuring again until, by
the time the light changed irretrievably I had a nice vine
charcoal sketch on the gray paper with highlights in white.
It's a good feeling to step back from a drawing and realize
you've pulled a rabbit out of the hat.
7-3-02
They call it Illustrator but
I'd never used it enough to really understand why. In my job
as a full time web designer, I used the program occasionally,
but never in a strictly creative sense. By that I mean I never
tried to illustrate anything. We used it to design a series
of interfaces for a program that runs in Flash and I also
traced a few poorly Xeroxed logos, taking advantage of the
excellent pen tools. Since I am teaching it this quarter,
I've been working my way through an advanced book by the WOW
people. The essence of Illustrator is it's ability to draw
perfect curves using the pen tools. It has the standard set
of high end painting, gradient, effect and pattern tools found
in most programs, but the refinement in the pen tools is what
lifts Illustrator above the crowd. The gradient mesh tool
deserves mention as well. It allows one to draw a mesh or
skeleton of wires across a rounded shape. One edits the intersections
of the mesh to better illustrate contours, then adjustable
gradients are poured into the mesh, working a little like
watercolor paint.
For my birthday I bought a 16 inch
adjustable wooden artist's mannequin. Sue calls it my Barbie
doll and I have it standing under the desk lamp here on my
desk with the warm light playing across it's charming curves.
Here is what I
have made so far, exported as a .swf to play in your browser's
Flash plug in.
I went climbing up at Index Town Wall
near Steven's pass last Sunday in my continuing quest to escape
the sport climbing crowd. We were able to climb one short
route before the rains came, forcing us to bail. My crack
climbing skills are returning slowly, but I find the lack
of gym rats so refreshing it's worth dropping 5 grades in
difficulty.
Go back to last month
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