Friday, March 11, 2011

Karim Rashid's Creative Manifesto

www.karimrashid.com

Above is a source for part of Karim Rashid's "Karimanifesto".  He lists 10 points, part of a creative manifesto, by which he lives his professional life.

Never say:  "I could have done that" because you didn't


This is the point that stands out the most to me.  There is never any use in dwelling on failures, or on other people's successes.  If someone got to a great idea before you, accept it and move on.  Perhaps even use it as motivation to focus your energy more precisely next time.

It's hard for me to draw many substantial correlations between Karim's manifesto and his creative work, because of how abstract most of it is.  He seems to focus on mixing form and function into workable, sellable products, which I can admire.  Certainly his spirituality informs his art, as does all of ours.  Whether or not you place much emphasis on spiritual pursuits, one's spirituality (or lack thereof) is an important part of one's life.  To completely separate your creativity from your spirituality would take a conscious effort, one that Karim obviously doesn't bother with.

To conclude my blog, I present my own creative manifesto of 10 points.  Thanks for reading.

1 - Focus on now, not later

2 - Embrace your strengths

3 - Embrace your weaknesses

4 - Don't be afraid to give control to someone else

5 - Think about yourself first and your audience second

6 - Create things you would want to buy for yourself

7 - Think outside of your industry's accepted boundaries

8 - Connecting with other people is the most valuable thing you can do.  Do all that you can to be a "people person"

9 - Love money, but don't be obsessed with it

10 - Need success, but don't be obsessed with it

Freak Factor

http://changethis.com/manifesto/show/45.02.FreakFactor

Above is a link to David Rendall's "Freak Factor".  It's an article arguing that our weaknesses, rather than being "fixed", should be embraced and seen as a natural compliment to our strengths.  David makes several good points in the article, and I'd like to go into more detail with three of them.

2. What's My Problem?


Here, Mr. Rendall lists several of his own perceived weaknesses.  It's a long list, and it serves to set up the next section, where he describes how he became successful in spite of his weaknesses.  The key, according to him, isn't to overcome weakness, but to discover that his apparent flaws were simply clues to his strengths.  For example, his profession as a professor allows him to harness his hyperactivity and his need for attention, both of which are his main "weaknesses".  I agree that trying too hard to "fix" weakness can be unfulfilling and, more often than not, boring.  There's a reason it's our weakness.  We're naturally inclined to avoid it.

I think I often focus too much on fixing things that don't really need to be fixed.  For example, I've often tried through brute force repetition to learn the art of drawing realistically.  I just can't.  I've tried, and I've made progress, but I've never really enjoyed doing it.  I think perhaps I like the idea of being able to draw well more that the skill itself.  What I do enjoy drawing are abstract figures, characters with more style than realism.  It's a way to avoid realism, and I enjoy it more too.

4. Forget it.  Don't Try to Fix Your Weakness


Doing things we're weak at is painful.  It stinks.  People who aren't good at math don't like doing math.  So why bother doing them?  There's a perceived need for all of our flaws to be "fixed" but, as David argues, perhaps that isn't the case at all.  He argues trying to fix weaknesses is painful, slow, distracting, and it doesn't work.  There are plenty of opportunities out there that will harness the full power of your strengths while simultaneously avoiding your weaknesses.  We all have limitations, but so what?  It may be easier to collaborate with others whose strengths compliment yours than to try and learn everything yourself.

I think the collaboration point is a very good one.  There are countless people out there who need your skills, and whose skills you need too.  Being able to collaborate and work well with others is an indispensable skill for creative types., and really, it saves you from doing a lot of boring and painful work.  Things you might despise doing may very well be someone else's forte, and vice versa.  Use this to your advantage.

6. Focus:  You Can't do Both


This is, I think, the most important point in the entire article.  Multitasking certainly has a place in the creative process, but you can't and shouldn't try to simultaneously fix your weaknesses and improve your strengths.  It spreads your creative output thin and limits your potential.  Ditch the "fixing weaknesses" part entirely, and just focus on what you do well.  It'll make you happier, increase your output, and give you more to work with.  David uses KMart's demise as an example of a company trying to do both (low prices AND higher quality merchandise) and failing.  Because they weren't the best at anything, KMart lost it's customers and went bankrupt.

Focusing on strengths is something I could do much better.  I think I try too often to improve my areas of relative weakness, when I should be focusing on my strengths.

Reflection on Gaming Presentation

Our gaming presentation went pretty well I think, but of course, not everything we wanted to convey could be done in our limited lab time.

1) The control mechanism wasn't really explained in enough detail for the audience to understand it completely.  Because the controls are such an integral part to this game, that's a problem.  Basically, the game uses the actual movements of the player to decide how the on-screen character will move.  If the player crouches, their character will crouch.  If the player jumps, their character will jump.  If the player mimics throwing a grenade, their character will throw a grenade.  Running is the only major action not represented in this way; obviously, it would be impossible for a player to run any substantial distance in front of their television, so the running is handled via a joystick on the controller.

2) The importance of realism couldn't be stressed enough during the presentation.  Everything, from the controls to the graphics to the heads-up display, are centered around realism.  The controller you hold is shaped like a real gun.  You control the character through real-life actions.  The graphics are photorealistic. The entire game is designed for you to feel like you are in an actual warzone.  Guided perception elements are highlighted through realistic dialogue or natural lighting, as opposed to artificial arrows or sounds.

I think goals are the hardest concept to get across in a short presentation.  The goals of a game - what a player must accomplish in order to "win" - aren't always explicit.  Many times, what a player must do is hidden within the subtext of a game.  Explaining such a goal would either be tedious and longwinded, or it would spoil a special moment of the game that the player should experience for themselves.  Explaining goals as an outside entity often ruins the "magic" of what makes a good game special.

Sunday, February 27, 2011

Hero/Villan Assignment

Our hero, Minute Man:


Schoolteacher by day, private-eye by night, Minute Man is an ex-business partner of the two villains.  He is concerned about Hi-Hat's custom hallucinogen, "Swank", and the effect it is having on his student's health (Hi-Hat is poisoning the student's milk supply, so as to get them addicted at a young age).  Minute Man is a brilliant inventor, having created for himself a watch that can temporarily slow down time.  Here is his animation, demonstrating his time-stopping abilities:



One of our villains, Hi-Hat:


This American Life: Superpowers

If I could have a superpower, I would choose the power of speed.


It seems like a cool but reasonable superpower, one that I could get some use out of but that wouldn't be needlessly complicated.  I've always liked running as an exercise; this seems like a logical extension of that.  To able to move very quickly, in effect, is like being able to slow down time, in that everyone would be moving in "slow motion" around you.

If I had this power, certainly I'd use it to sleep in as long as physically possible.  I could sleep till 3:09, wake up, and make it to class by 3:10 using my super speed.  Assuming my powers translated to other actions besides simply running, I could complete all of my chores/homework in virtually no time, which would certainly be nice.  And of course, I'd be unstoppable in almost every sport.  Soccer?  No chance.  Basketball?  Forget about it.  I would be the best there ever was, and - assuming I was allowed to play competitively in the first place - I would mist likely shatter all speed-based records and maintain them until the end of time.  That would be pretty cool.

As far as the Flash specifically, I dig his power, but I'm not a fan of the costume.  It seems like he's drawing attention to himself with his garish spandex uniform, which may be the point, considering he's a hero.  I personally would prefer to remain normal-looking, and only use my powers for everyday situations.  I wouldn't want the pressure or responsibility that comes with being a famous superhero.  It almost seems like that would suck the fun out of the whole thing.

Two Video Jokes




We chose two very different approaches to our joke.  The first video uses stuffed animals as the only characters, which gives the video a very interesting feel.  For example, movement is obviously limited.  This meant we had to frame the shots in such a way as to convey movement/intention without explicitly showing it, although we did end up physically moving the stuffed animals in several instances to show they were sentient (as opposed to simply being characters in a child's playtime).  Shape also played a large role in the video's overall look; the different stuffed animals have distinct personalities in large part because of their distinct outlines, which helps give the video a "real" feel.

The different shapes of the stuffed animals also lend the video some contrast and affinity.  Contrast between the individual stuffed animals gives each of them a unique personality, and helps establish that they are separate characters.  That they are all stuffed animals also gives them an affinity that helps to establish a setting.  Along with the bedroom background/child's handwriting, their affinity as stuffed animals firmly establishes a child's bedroom/imaginative setting.

The second video, using actual actors, relies more on space.  The size of the room was manipulated using camera shots, so that it appeared larger than it actually was.  The interviewees were filmed from an angle that made them appear closer together, for a cramped, nervous look, while the actual interviews were more formally arranged. This use of space helped give the video a more interesting feel.

The use of space mentioned above also gave the video tension and release.  The one-after-another nature of the interviews gives a sense of foreboding; the viewer knows something is coming, but they are unsure exactly when it will happen.  This also adds to the payoff once the punchline does eventually come.  In this case, the punchline acts as the delivery method for the release.

Monday, February 14, 2011

An Examination of a Scene: Sunshine






A Visual Reimagining of Salvadore Dali




The top photo is an original work by Salvadore Dali, an amazingly talented painter.  Below it is the same painting, reframed by me.

The original painting, entitled Galatea of the Spheres, is an amazing example of depth and perspective.  The deep depth provided by the many spheres is what originally drew me to the piece; in fact, it wasn't until later I actually noticed the face in the spheres.  It's a painting of many layers, figuratively and literally, and it's this complexity that drew me in.

There are several key differences between the two framings, the most obvious of which is the face present in the original but absent in the reframing.  The more limited space in the reframing restricts the viewer from seeing all of the painting; the wider space in the original allows the viewer to see everything as originally intended.  Obviously Salvadore Dali framed it the way he did for a reason; without the space, we wouldn't be able to see the girl's face in the spheres.

The original painting also has less visual intensity than the reframing does, because of the wider space.  The reframing focuses intensely on the horizon point; there is nothing but the diagonal lines leading straight to the point.  The original, by contrast, gives a much wider view, one that isn't nearly as intense.  Though the horizon point is still present in the original, it isn't as imposing.  How lines are perceived is another big difference between the two; in the original, we can see the woman in the spheres.  However, the reframing does not show her; the lines can only be perceived as abstract paths to the horizon, as opposed to something bigger.

The original has contrast and affinity that the reframing lacks; there is likeness between the spheres and the lines which they compose, and affinity with the spheres and the woman's face.  In the reframing, however, there is no affinity; just an amalgamation of lines and spheres.  The original also has tension and release where the reframing does not.  The tension of the imposing wall of spheres is released the realization that there is a woman's face within them; the reframing, not showing the woman's face, has no release, and is thus somewhat more uncomfortable to look at.

Monday, January 31, 2011

Seth Godin's "Brainwashed"


Linked is Seth Godin's "Brainwashed", an essay on creativity and how we've been conditioned to restrict it.

Acknowledge the Lizard


Godin argues that the "lizard brain - the prehistoric brainstem that all of us must contend with" is a key figure in the restriction of our creativity.  It's timid, afraid of criticism, and as a result resists our artistic instincts.  It was complicit in our brainwashing as youth.  And so, in order to effectively ignore it and embrace our creative spirit, we must first acknowledge its existence and understand its pattern of behavior.  Only then can we overcome it.

Ship


The ability to finish things is an incredibly important one to have.  Those who create but don't ship are merely wasting time.  Of course, people value those who can get work done reliably.  Shipping can often be difficult in part because of the lizard brain - that prehistoric philistine inside us.  Shipping is scary; it encourages criticism and opens the door for failure.  But only by shipping can we share with the world our art and abilities.


Both of the above points are, I agree, crucial to effectively embracing our artistic abilities.  This blog is itself an example of shipping; by publishing our thoughts and opinions on the internet, we are shipping our ideas and styles to the world.  By creating creative content and publishing it here, we are in one stroke acknowledging and ignoring the lizard brain inside us.  Both exercises are important for growing as students and artists, in that they encourage taking a chance; they encourage having the courage to step outside the lines and try new things.  And that, after all, is how great ideas are born.

Sunday, January 30, 2011

Songwriting Assignment

Our songs.


Saturday, January 29, 2011

Exploration of a Cover Song

REM's "It's The End Of The World"



Covered by Great Big Sea:







I really like both versions of this song.  I happened to hear Great Big Sea's version first, and only later became aware that REM wrote the original.

The obvious difference between the two is the speed.  Great Big Sea sings the song very fast, making it hard to understand exactly what they're saying.  But, it also increases the intensity of the song, by making it seem more frantic and unorganized.  I had become used to this by the time I heard the original by REM, so the original by contrast seemed slow and plodding.  I felt a song about the end of the world should be fast and frantic, because that's what I assume the end of the world will be like; lots of tension, with the release coming only at the end.  The Great Big Sea version provides this, while the original by REM does not.

However, the original has a sense of organization that Great Big Sea's doesn't have.  It's sung slow enough to understand, and never feels like it's going out of control.  The timbre is, as a result, different between the two versions.  Great Big Sea's version is noisy and hectic; it sounds "fuller" than the original, which has an emptier feeling.

If I had to pick one as my preferred version, I'd have to go with Great Big Sea's, simply because it was the one I had heard first.  I became used to it, so the original felt "off" to me.  However, they're both great songs, and I could listen to either if I had to.

Friday, January 21, 2011

Soundscape

Created for MDIA 203; the emotion is COMFORTABLE



Enjoy.

Monday, January 17, 2011

"14 Ways to get Breakthrough Ideas"

http://changethis.com/

The above is a link to the website featuring Mitch Ditkoff's "14 Ways to get Breakthrough Ideas".  It outlines 14 different techniques of stirring the creative pot in order to gather new ideas.  Most are fairly self-explanatory creative exercises, but they are explained in-depth and in detail, and are great considerations for when you've hit a mental roadblock.  Let's take a closer look at three of the techniques.

#8 - Take a break


It is, in fact, possible to over-think things.  Especially when working on something you're passionate about, dwelling over something obsessively can create frustration and curb creativity.  That's why taking a break can be so fantastic for the creative process.  It's one of my favorite techniques, and I was glad to see Ditkoff mention it.  Walking away from a problem, instead of being an admission of defeat, can spark new life in an idea and resurrect passion for it.  I think it's a great idea, and one that goes unused far too often.
I find that distracting myself from a project for a few hours can give me a new appreciation for it.  Especially when working on something visual, I'll find myself staring at it for too long and getting content with unacceptable flaws.  It's only when I leave and return later that I see these flaws and correct them.  Of course you have to be critical with yourself, but it's hard to continuously re-evaluate a piece that you've been working on for a long time, and taking breaks is the perfect solution.

#9 - Notice and challenge existing patterns and trends

Being ahead of the competition is a great way to predict trends and innovate first.  Ditkoff mentions several professions where pattern recognition is paramount:  stock brokers, meteorologists, air traffic controllers, ect.  Being able to detect and interpret patterns, Ditkoff argues, is the key to their success.  I think being able to predict trends in the market is one of the most important skills for anyone looking to make a splash to have.  Sometimes getting a good idea into the market first is just as important as getting the idea in the first place; you never know who else is thinking the same thing you are.  In a competitive industry, speed is certainly important.
I'm currently working on a creative project unrelated to school.  It's something I enjoy doing, and something I hope could one day make me some money, but if it's going to go anywhere it has to be relevant.  Technology-related endeavors are a tricky thing; they can be difficult to make, but must also be made quickly in order to stay up to date.  Technology advances at an incredibly rapid pace, and you wouldn't want to be caught releasing a Playstation 3 game when the Playstation 4 is already out.  By predicting trends in the industry, one can gauge where the market is headed and be better prepared when developing one's product.

#10 - Hang out with diverse groups of people


Ditkoff's tenth suggestion is one I myself ignore far too often.  Hanging out with the same people over and over, while comfortable, doesn't do much to expand your creative horizons.  Meeting and interacting with new people can bring new experiences and fresh ideas to a person who would otherwise never have them.  Ditkoff mentions how engineers at Sony were once required to spend at least 25% of work time interacting with people "outside the walls of their industry".  This would give them the experience and new interactions necessary to expand their pool of influence, thus giving them (and by extension Sony) an edge over the competition.
I think it's a valid technique, but it's something I don't often do.  Everyone's method(s) of getting new ideas is different, and rarely do I come across my best through interactions with strangers.  Much of my creativity is aided by interesting conversation and interaction, yes, but it's mostly through friends and established peers.  I'm just not as comfortable discussing ideas and the creative process with someone I don't know at all.  Perhaps I'll work on this one and see what it can do for me.

Prompt for #9 - What trends in the marketplace most intrigues you?  In what ways might these trends shift in the coming years - and how might your most inspired idea be in sync with this imagined shift?


The extracurricular project I'm currently working on is a technology-dependent investment.  I need to be able to analyze the mobile phone / tablet market and how it's evolving if I want to really succeed in future-proofing my project.  The trend towards larger screens and higher-resolutions is interesting; where once the race was to smallest phone, we seem to now be moving in the opposite direction.  Users want a mobile device with a large, clear screen for doing everyday tasks, but something small enough to fit in a pocket or bookbag, so hardware manufacturers are creating screens with much higher resolutions; that is, screens that are small but also very pixel-dense.  This allows for both mobility and clarity.  Unfortunately, there aren't really industry-wide standards for screen resolution, so there are lots of different configurations on the market.  This means software developers must create multiple versions of one application if they want it to look proper on all available hardware.
Apple's mobile devices alone span three resolutions; the old iPhones and iPods, the newer iPhones/iPods with retina displays, and the iPad all have different resolutions.  While one version of an app could theoretically run on all three devices, it wouldn't look as crisp or polished on the higher-resolution screens.
For me, this means creating content that's easily modifiable.  I need to be able to quickly and effectively change up the resolution of a project , which means I need to keep things simple.  Of course, simple is good anyways, but the uneven hardware landscape of today practically necessitates it.  Creating multiple versions of a superfluously confusing application would be an incredible headache.

Monday, January 10, 2011

The Creative Process

Self-observation isn't an easy thing to do.  To examine my own creative process would require scanning my subconscious, something which seems a bit like an impossibility.  I would suppose my creativity emerges from my observations; things I see that strike me as interesting, something I heard that left an impression, a conversation that made me laugh.  From these scattered observations of real life my subconscious assembles my ideas, like little frankensteins of thought.

I enjoy imagining things as they weren't intended.  What would happen if that melody were inverted?  Could there be a happy-ending movie wherein the protagonist is defeated?  What about a game whose objective was not to win, but to lose as spectacularly as possible?  I want to expect the unexpected; I want to be surprised and to surprise others.  I enjoy media that breaks the mold, and so it's no surprise that my main influences are those who, I feel, try things a little differently.


Shigeru Miyamoto 



The Legend of Zelda

Anyone who loves video games will have Miyamoto on their list of influences.  Creator of Mario, Zelda, and many other classic franchises, he embodies the spirit of trying things differently.  Miyamoto is a master of employing active learning into his games.

For an example of didactic learning in games, you need to look no further than any modern high-budget role playing game.  There will most assuredly be a lengthy and tedious tutorial, along with a few hours or so of pushover enemies and little variety.  Only after you have proved beyond all worldly doubt that you know how to play will you be granted access to the interesting bits.  You are spoon-fed the objectives and controls, smothered with tips and hints until there remains not a trace of surprise or adventure.  What was intended as an epic, twisting, interactive drama has been reduced to a simple reflex exercise.  Push "A" a couple times at the right moment and win!  That is the didactic learning approach.

Contrast this with the active learning approach:  here's you, here's the world, figure it out.




This is the beginning of the original Legend of Zelda.  There is no tutorial.  No hand-holding.  There is only "It's dangerous to go alone!  Take this."  Thus you are given your sword and sent on your way.  Multiple dungeons stretch out in every direction.  With hidden items to seize, hidden treasure to hoard, and big 'ol bosses to battle, it's a classic adventure game, only - unlike the scripted, big-budget, modern, didactic versions - it's your adventure.  No one is telling you where to go or what to do.  How you approach and ultimately defeat the bad guy is your decision.  Active learning at it's finest.  Very fun.

Pikmin

A more recent example of Miyamoto's genius, Pikmin is by many accounts a masterpiece.  It remains one of my all-time favorite games, for many reasons.  One of them is the subconscious struggle you will feel while playing it.

Pikmin is about Captain Olimar, a spaceman whose ship crashes on a strange planet (a planet one could reasonably assume is Earth, or close to it).  Stranded and alone, Captain Olimar enlists the help of the native Pikmin creatures to help find the scattered pieces of his ship and return home.  Pikmin are tiny, cute, and immeasurably helpful, swarming enemies and lifting heavy objects for Olimar.  Therein lies the conscious objective: use Pikmin to find the pieces of your ship and return home.






See, you need Pikmin to win.  To lift the heavy ship pieces and defeat the towering enemies, Pikmin are absolutely essential.  The player is consciously aware of their importance.  

However, over time, the player will find himself developing a strange fondness for these little creatures.  You cannot help but fall in love with their unwavering willingness to help, their tenacity, the little squeaks they occasionally make, their camaraderie - it's all positively heartwarming.  One can see, then, where the problem arises.  The subconscious desire to protect your Pikmin comes in direct conflict with the conscious need to find your ship and go home.  The motherly instinct versus the survival instinct.

It's a brilliant design, precisely because of this struggle.  It is never explicitly stated that Pikmin cannot or should not be killed; indeed, they are a renewable resource, sprouting from the ground like flowers all around you.  But that doesn't matter.  They fight with you, they grow with you - certainly you can't just let them die for you.  It's an entirely subconscious battle; the game doesn't care about their lives, but the player most certainly does.


Tim Reynolds


Though games are clearly my primary area of interest, my creative influences inhabit a wide range of professions.  Take Tim Reynolds, guitarist.  He can usually be found playing with Dave Matthews, another of my favorites - though his technical skill far outclasses Matthews (and most others, really).  Tim Reynolds, like most of my creative idols, does things his way.  My favorite of his pieces are played with an acoustic guitar, amplified though effects pedals for a spectacular sound.  




The tension and subsequent release at the beginning of the above song is an excellent example of Reynolds using sound to manipulate emotion.  The first minute is a mildly incoherent, heavily distorted section; the spacey sound and unexpected effects raise the tension of the piece.  As Reynolds slows the pace and the sound drifts into silence, the audience is left expecting more.  What comes next?

As it turns out, a skillful acoustic verse comes next.  The contrast between the odd-sounding beginning and the clear, acoustic verse creates the tension and, then, the release.  What began as an interesting, pedal-driven soundscape evolves into a distinct and crisp, fully formed song.  Thus, what would have been an impressive enough song without the beginning is further enhanced by it's inclusion.  Such is the power of tension and release.