Dianeva's Thread

[Arra]

I learned the basics of how to use a 3d modelling program a couple years ago and made this scene as my first (and last) 'big' project. This just depresses me because I haven't touched it in months and doubt I know how to do it anymore. Maybe starting my own thread in this section will motivate me to start again. I made all the objects myself (including the windows), except for the foliage outside the windows which was just an image I found online. It wasn't meant to be viewed from this angle so it looks like crap, but some details are clearer: This one is the most realistic looking object I ever made:

[Marvo]

Do you work in Blender?

[Raphael]

Very nice work. I would also like to know if you use Blender.

[Arra]

They are done in Blender, yes.

[Marvo]

I know a bit of 3D Studio Max, and have actually made some pretty cool things, though I never got around to learning actual modelling. The biggest issue with learning software like 3D Studio Max, is that there's a new version released every year, which is a little different from the previous version. It's enough to make half of the tutorials and plug-ins out there nearly useless, which is really annoying. Good job learning Blender though. I never understood that program.

[nina]

I still think Cinema 4D is the best. I tried working with 3d studio max and never liked it.

[Arra]

This thread is not all animation, it's just my thread for any art-type things. A poem: ------------------------------ I have become The wingless hummingbird The sightless tiger Regurgitating my own blood While others feast on my prey No longer human I have become The serpant’s scale The maggot’s bloodcell The circular argument Awaiting dismissal No longer animal I have become The vulture’s wing As it falls

[Tara]

As I read that poem, I imagined myself decomposing and then my other self or my clone or whatever started rolling about in my bloody remains. I liked it.

[Xei]

Write some nicer poems.

[Arra]

Kind of simple and not amazing, but at least this one is finished with, which is more I can say for the other 10 poems I've started in the last month. Still I stand As the world moves around me As the ferns part before me As this trail aims to fork me Still I fall As the stone speeds toward me As the waves break behind me As these words try to write me Still I lie As your heart strives to beat me As your life surges through me As your blood starts to drown me Still I sleep Fearing a footprint As the world moves around me As the guilt tempts to blind me Still I stand

[Arra]

This trail of severed limbs Alive enough to scream Startled by its blood scent The white mare flees Through fields of breaking bone Condemned by howling ghosts Compelling us to tread their tears We’re ripped apart - almost In defiance, we wear their flesh Like masks, their hearts like wings And found below, the painting weeps Skinless faces burned by crimson tears They glimpse an ancient crow turned white Its reflection lost beyond light A perversion of futility Laughing the hopeless grin Of a broken child

[Seroquel]

I love the poetry.

[Atras]

Really good. Here's a haiku (I think I formatted it right) Title: A poem Beauty in few words Striving to win all the souls Of the broken hearts

[Suena]

Loving the poetry, really good job. =)

[Arra]

I'm experimenting with styles. This one isn't nice to read and doesn't seem poetic, but that was kind of half the point... ---------------------- Nature From a dying tree Red fruit falls A bull trudges Through sunlight plains To devour it Before fucking a cow And wandering off To the slaughter house

[Arra]

I hear as I swim deeper Into this blood-filled sea The cries of restless sleepers As they awaken me Pulled toward the surface Gasping air I know forever gone An unlikely sun That brings the night to dawn Only a vision A mockery of my affliction My twelve-layered fortress Composed of three sides A snowy owl glimpsed Glowing, the true beacon Through thickened blood A different kind of light Downward, deeper Past frozen stream and fiery sky I know I asked to suffer But can’t remember why

[Arra]

I deleted what I last posted, not because I decided it's bad or anything, for other reasons.

[Patrick]

Your poems have a really nice flow to them. Also love the image of the glass of water in the OP.

[Arra]

Thank you.

[Alyzarin]

You reminded that the Artists' Corner exists so I figured I should come check this out. I really like your poems! Definitely more expressive than anything I could come up with. I'm also super jealous of your 3D modeling skills. :X Is the poem you deleted the one you referred to in the other thread?

[Arra]

Ah, thanks. Yes it is. In fact I happen to be trying to record it again and again, and I'm drunk.

[Alyzarin]

Aw, so I guess it's not sounding good then? :T What was it that you didn't like about the old recording?

[Arra]

I'm not sure whether or not it sounds good. The main problem I had with the first one is I recited the middle bits a bit too slowly, because I wasn't used to it. I'm determined to do it all in one take. It's difficult to get through the entire thing without making some minor mistake. It's an 8-minute poem!

[Alyzarin]

Oh wow, that would make it difficult for one take! Well, I wish you good luck. I'm sure it'll sound fine if you just stay confident about it, and remember that most people have some problems with the way they sound when recorded.

[Arra]

Okay, I've uploaded it again. It's a little dramatic near the end, perhaps overly, I guess I got quite into it and almost started crying. There's something wrong with my mic so my recordings aren't working, even though I think I can do a better job of it now. My problem specifically is that I was unclear and a bit slow near the middle of the poem. I wasn't used to reading it yet. It's also a bit quiet, although I don't know what I can do about that. Making my mic settings any higher causes a lot of static. I was about to remove it again, then saw that someone had commented, and that person happens to have 10,000 subscribers... so I don't know what to do now, but I guess I'll see what happens before removing it. EDIT: Anyone who doesn't want to hear the whole thing, just listen to the last minute. Spoiler for The Raven: Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. `'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door - Only this, and nothing more.' Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore - For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore - Nameless here for evermore. And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating `'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door - Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; - This it is, and nothing more,' Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, `Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; - Darkness there, and nothing more. Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before; But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token, And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!' This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!' Merely this and nothing more. Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before. `Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice; Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore - Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; - 'Tis the wind and nothing more!' Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore. Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he; But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door - Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door - Perched, and sat, and nothing more. Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, `Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven. Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore - Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.' Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore; For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door - Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door, With such name as `Nevermore.' But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only, That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour. Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered - Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before - On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.' Then the bird said, `Nevermore.' Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, `Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store, Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore - Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore Of "Never-nevermore."' But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door; Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore - What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking `Nevermore.' This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er, But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er, She shall press, ah, nevermore! Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. `Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore! Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.' `Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! - Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted - On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore - Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.' `Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore - Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore - Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.' `Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting - `Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.' And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted - nevermore!