Leap year Schmeap Year

So this is what a leap year feels like. You know, I don't think I've ever paid attention to whether it was a leap year or not. Let's see... last leap year I was 23... hmmm... 2000... nope.... I had my head up my ass then.

You know, I was thinking the other day (you believe that?) and I realized that it was a year ago this month, that I committed to getting in shape and losing weight. A year, do you believe that? And it took me almost 9 months to get the ball rolling. And almost the full year to get where I was competent at managing my life. That's pretty ridiculous. Anyways, I made 3 very important realizations this week. One, I'm not doing enough cardiovascular exercise. Two, I don't need to be doing weight lifting till I make more head way on losing weight. And three, I'm STILL eating way too many carbohydrates.

Last week I started doing 20 minutes on the exercise bike (and I have the hurting ass to prove it!) before swimming each day. That has made a HUGE difference in my weight control. Apparently, even though I'm getting better at swimming. To the point where I swim at least 30 - 40 laps each time without hardly stopping to catch my breath. I am still not to the endurance where it helps me to lose weight. I think in another month or two it will be. But it's not right now.

I've also cut back on weight lifting because it doesn't seem to be helping my cause right now. I've got some pretty big muscles, but you can barely see them. So I figure in another month or two, as I'm getting to lose more weight from swimming and bicycling, I'll jump back into weight lifting full swing. My muscles aren't the problem, it's my lungs and my metabolism.

Lastly, I've realized that I've been sneaking all kinds of breads into my diet more and more. Lots of crackers here and there, and too much rice with each meal and at least 2 or 3 bowls of cereal before bed (which is the worst time for it). This weekend I've started cooking just chicken and stirfry vegetables (no rice or breads) before dinner, and I've lost 5 pounds this weekend alone.

So that's that.

Lets hope that next leap year I'm a millionaire, or at least immensely successful with my writing and art. And I especially hope that I am finally in shape. I don't want to be 30 and still looking like a pear.

--Will

Dream Traveler

So before I turn 30... a little less than 3 years from now, I want to start traveling pretty regularly. One of my first stops is Boracay, a small island in the Phillipines. I plan to spend a month or two there. It's got to be one of the most beautiful places that I've ever seen. I think to be a good writer, you need to travel a lot. And observe the world and the people in it as they live. You need to be able to "paint with words." So that's my excuse for going to paradise.



One of the next places I'm going is the Cinque Terre in Italy. I actually want to live there for at least 6 months to a year. My goal is to paint and write almost exclusively. If learning to do art on my own the last 5 years were my college education, the Cinque Terre would be my graduate degree.



The third, and probably not the last, place that I plan to go in the next 3 years, is to Portugal. I want to walk the pilgrimage of El Camino de Santiago in Portugal. It's a very spiritual and personal journey. And I think before I go into the next decade of my life, it's very important to reflect on the path I've followed. I don't have any pictures of the Camino... mostly because I'm waiting to see it with my own eyes. And I don't think any picture could do it justice.

--Will

WooHAH!!

I finally got word back from my editor about the first submission. The overall response was great! He said he loved the art and especially loved the story idea. He said that it was one of the better written/put-together submissions that he's received. I guess that comes from my years of receiving crappy submissions (and a few good ones) for Lucid from prospective artists and writers, and knowing what NOT to send. Also, he was amazed that I was the one that wrote the pitch, considering that all these years I've worked with other writers and have hardly written myself. So that made me feel good. I guess I'm getting better as a writer. He also said that the pirate theme is great, and especially my treatment of it. And he mentioned that the company is really on the lookout for pirate material, in the wake of Pirates of the Carribean(since it's gonna be in the market for at least 5 more years due to sequels) so the timing of this couldn't be better. Stoked!

There are some minor changes to be made, which I expected, and they're very simple to fix. Stuff like, more clearly defining certain risque subject matters, so that it's not left open so widely to interpretation. I'm shooting for a younger audience for the story, so I have to be careful with how I deal with adult themes. I totally agree. Anyways, I'm pretty much on cloud 9. This rocks. I'm going to refine the submission this week and I want to do some more color material to include in the packet as well as some more sequential art. Hopefully I'll get the final proposal in by the middle of next week. Overall, I've got a great feeling about this. Everyone pray for me or sacrifice a goat or whatever you do. I need all the help I can get.

--Will

Cool Links

When your flying tiger attack has failed, it's time to master the many moves of TaeKwon-DonRumsfeld.

Heres my new car. I think I'll call him CarL.

I sooo want an invisible loo. Lubbock definitely needs one right in the middle of the Texas Tech campus.

I'm not saying it'll make the Top 40 here but... this songs kinda catchy.

I think no day is complete without watching random Japanese people in stop motion on commuter trains.

I knew it was only a matter of time before they combined Skydiving babies and Giantess Lingerie laden supermodels in a surreal model train like countryside. What? You didn't see it coming too?

--Will

Stupid Stupid Gateway!

I got my replacement hard drive in today. Stupid service reps at Gateway never put in my order. They made me wait a freaking month, and when I called back 4 times each of the people I talked to just flat out lied to me about sending it out. Stupid people. Sometimes I just really hate people. It's just one of those weeks. Anyways, I've spent most of the night putting programs on my computer and downloading updates and such. But now I've finally got my own computer. I'll prolly start working on my website now and doing more color samples for my proposal. Unfortunately I still haven't been able to salvage anything from my broken hard drive... sigh.

Anyways, I'm going to bed, hopefully tomorrow will be a better day.

--Will

Stupid Stupid Lubbock!

Grrrrrrrr..... Stupid Lubbock! Well now they've gone and done it. Now I'm really P.O.'d. Lubbock no longer has a 24 hour Kinkos. So much for my late night trists with reproduction and fanzines. They've ripped out my heart and replaced it with a charcoal black toner cartridge. I feel so lost, like there's no where left for me to go. I mean, I live my whole life at night, and now I can't even make copies of my artwork. There's nothing else to live for. No.. you don't UNDERSTAND!!! Stupid, stupid, stupid Lubbock. I'm ready to get another job just so I can leave this damn town. Stupid, stupid.... sigh. Now I'm sad.

--Will

Writing lessons...

So I'm still working on the beginning of my script. I hope this isn't a normal habit for me, I've already written most of the story, but I'm still working on the beginning, lol. I've written it 3 different ways and none of them make me happy. I want the first 5 pages to be fun, captivating AND relevant. So I'm creating some rules I want to follow for introducing the main character and beginning the story. I've always done this sort of thing, writing rules and such. Especially when I was learning to draw. It helped me to solidify what I was doing right and eliminate what I was doing wrong. Its just that, now you poor readers are forced to be subjected to this meandering process and most of you don't give a goodgoddam about writing. So I pologize now if this is boring.

Wilbos rules for gooder writin'
1. The reader must care for the character before they care about the conflict.
2. The character is developed not just by how they Act but by how other characters React to them.
3. A Hero is the guy that Knows stuff... They're not the guy that Learns stuff.
4. The Beginning is not where the story starts, it's where the reader starts. So don't try to squeeze all of the history in before the reader even starts to care about the character.
5. State your thesis in the opening, just as you would in a research paper. If your story is to have a purpose, you must state that purpose in the beginning, you must discuss it in the middle and prove it in the end.
6. Write first-- think later!!!

So that's it so far. At least for starting a story. I think the thing I keep getting stuck on, is that I don't want to start in a straight-forward way. I don't want to go the obvious route, because, well... It's been done more than a hollywood hooker. So I'll keep chipping away at it. I'll prolly post it up here when I get something more concrete written.

--Will

Fragments for February 21 2004.

Here's another Fragment scene. If you don't know, it's where you take 3 random Fragment sentences and try to incorporate a story around them. The fragments are in bold.

The last remnants of daylight are crawling across the floor as he draws the curtain to a close. Neon lights hum to life as he sits back down at his easel. The figure on the canvas stares blankly back at him. There is no life in the painting. The frustration is imminent on his face as he tries to wipe away the doubt, along with the flecks of paint on his forehead. He's covered with drops and streaks of colored paint. It would seem that he is more the work of art than the heartless endeavor sitting in front of him. Suddenly he stands and throws the canvas across the room. The wooden frame breaks from the force and lands in a pile of hundreds of other broken canvases. He screams aloud. And it reverberates throughout the tall white room.

A soft voice answers the scream, "Did the painting win again?" A beautiful dark haired woman in an oversized black sweater is leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed. She's smiling, as though this were what she loved about him. He sits down on his stool in front of the easel. He is noticeably more calm with her in the room. But the frustration is still evident in his voice, "I can't do it! I can see it, but it won't come out!" He gestures as though he holds the answer in his hands. "It's like it's afraid to leave me." He crosses his elbows at his knees and rests his forehead on his arms. He stares at the ground for a long moment trying to understand what it is he's trying to say. "Just make a list of all the paintings I've started. And how many of those have I finished?" He yelps exacerbated to the ground, "NONE!!!"

"You think too much" she says half-giggeling. She walks to him and leans on his back wrapping her arms around to hug him, the tips of her fingers hidden beneath the bulky sleeves of her sweater. She whispers softly in his ear, "An artist never finishes his work remember? ...he simply lets it go." She lays her head on his shoulder and squeezes him tightly. "The hardest part is letting go." And after the third time she hugs him, she finally whispers, "That which is supposed to be truth never comes easy." She can feel his agitation release. She can feel his new found peace. She loosens her embrace as he breathes in deep. Suddenly he twists the knob of the radio up louder and places a new blank canvas on the easel. The canvas seems to be alive before the paint has even been applied. She knows this one will be great. And as she quietly leaves the room, she smiles one last time, and watches as he begins to masterfully work into the night.

--Will

I colored tonight.
This is the first colored work
that I've tried for my Pirate story.
I'm happy with how she turned out.
Click the image to see a bigger version.



--Will

Les Triplets of Belleville.

I saw the Triplettes of Belleville the other day with my Mom and my Sister. God this is such a great movie. The entire animation has almost no dialogue. I mean, there are some characters speaking in french, but for the most part you don't need any verbal cues to understand the story. It's brilliantly done, with symbolism and repetition of themes. It also had some of the best characterization I've seen in a cartoon in a long time. The Grandmothers personality was brilliantly drawn. She and the Dog are probably the best part of the movie.

I love how there are 2 or 3 themes throughout the story that are constantly repeated and tied back in. There is one theme with trains, of which the main characters dog is deathly afraid of. It starts with him as a puppy, He's tired of chasing the boys toy train around the track and he sits down with his little tail sitting on the toy railroad track and the little train runs it over. And they never let it go from there. The entire movie, whenever there's a train the dog is barking at it, and it sets up some hilarious scenes. My favorite scene is when the dog is asleep he's "dreaming" about trains. Suddenly he's on the train barking at the window in his home as the train passes. It's the opposite of how the scene plays in his real world, but it's done in a very funny way.

I think the best part of the movie is how they take the inherrent iconography and exageration that makes cartoons so magical (ala, bugs bunny, etc...) and they carry these over into a somewhat more realistic style. The french Mafia goons are these very blocky characters, and the Mafia bosses are almost "Just" a head. And the bicyclists (which are sort of the central characters) are almost stick-figure characters with tremendous exageration of the muscles. It was incredible how far they were able to go with everything. And anything can happen. You're constantly reminded that cartoon characters don't abide by normal laws and they have a lot of fun with breaking those laws. And I loved the personalities of the Triplettes.

Anyways, I highly recommend this movie to anyone that gets the chance to see it. Unfortunately if you're in Lubbock it's too late to see it in theaters. It was only here this week. I hate this town.

--Will

Say Goodbye

Its funny how the distance can make you feel close.
And the things you've lost are the things you want most.
The weathers fine here, a perfect shade of blue
I guess that's why I've been thinking of you

I know you're different now and I guess I've changed too,
and I thought what once was right was so wrong for you.
Yesterday I was talking and I heard your name.
The weathers fine here, with a slight chance of rain.

Time makes you sorry for the things that you've done,
sometimes you walk away and sometimes you run.
And the weathers fine here, I can feel a slight chill,
Some things change and some never will.

So I call you up just to tell you why...
Why I left you and said goodbye.
Must be the mood I'm in,
I'm thinking of you again.
I call you up just to tell you why...
Why I left you and said goodbye.

I call you up to tell you why... To say I love you and to say goodbye.

Say Goodbye
--Eva Cassidy

Personality Types.

I want to talk more about that personality test I took the other day. Because it keeps coming up in my everyday conversations. A lot of my friends have taken it and they've found similar amazing results. Luis took his and the results were uncanny. I love the realizations that come along with discovering how someone really works. Like his personality has a tendancy to be emotionally detached. Which is perfect for me, because I have a tendancy to be insensative. So we fit together great as friends. He almost never gets butt-hurt at the stupid stuff I say. But what's even more fascinating is that when it comes to being empathetic when someone is hurting. He has this incredible technique of creating an artificial empathy through his amazing intelligence. He isn't actually connecting emotionally, but he is so caught up in solving this emotional logic problem that it appears like he's being empathetic. I would have never been able to tell the difference if I didn't know him so well. That's fascinating to me.

One of the funniest things I found, I had my sister Laura take the test today and she ended up an ISTP personality. My parents and I have been frustrated with her for months because she seems to be dormant. Her ambition and drive is non-existent. Which is a major contrast to where she was in High School. She took the test and the result was dead on. And from reading her personality she makes so much more sense to me now. It's so funny. It explains that her personality type remains dormant until her purpose or inspiration is revealed. It's a lot like a cheetah or some other high energy animal. They don't exert any energy until it's time for the hunt. What's even more amazing is that she shares the same persona as Clint Eastwood, Charles Bronson, James Dean, Chuck Yeager, Tom Cruise, and a ton of other action stars. They're known for their low key personalities and their ability to end a scene with one well-scripted line. That fits her to a T.

I think my test result was dead on as well. The more I read into it, the more I see myself in it. What makes me most excited is that I feel like I'm starting to understand myself much more than I ever have. From the Personology book Luis lent me a few weeks back, to this, to all the soul-searching I did at the end of 2003. I really feel that I'm starting to get a grasp of how I think and work and how I can improve myself. Oh and one more cool thing, I found out I have the same personality types as this girl. Who is one of the most inspirational people I have ever had the benefit of knowing. Which makes me wonder if I can travel the world and do amazing things like this myself. Not that I ever doubted I could.

If anyone hasn't taken the test, I highly recommend doing so.

--Will

Me being me...

This was the best crappy night I've had in a long time. For the most part it was fun. See, I get all stupid, from living in my head and such, so this kind of day is pretty typical for me. I spend so much time alone working that sometimes I start to wonder if all my friends hate me. So I have to occasionally go around to everyone and see how much of it is me being delusional and how much is fact. I'd say it was about 65% neurosis this time around and the rest was residual bullshit from the last time I was being an ass. But hey, that's better than usual.

I hung out with Corianna some. She's one of my best friends. Whenever we get together we play like children. We're silly like that. She got back from Americorp a while back and she's been pretty distant since then. Which is cool, cause I've been pretty much the same, except the Americorp part. I think when you leave something so engaging and fulfilling as Americorp, it's a little hard to cope with leaving it all behind. Here's a pic of Cori sporting her swanky Corp gear.

Then I went and hung out with other folks which I shan't talk about here. Needless to say it was much more complicated. But definitely worth while. Good friends are hard to find, especially ones that put up with me pissing them off as much as I do. So after smoothing out the rough edges and clearing the air, I ended up having a great time. Man, whoever knew being neurotic was such hard work.

So after running around all night doing my little social diagnostic. I spend the rest of the evening with Brandon and some new friends. Then I get in my little truck to take off, I get 3 blocks and I run out of gas. It's my fault.. no shit Will, you're kidding? Honestly, I thought I had enough to get where I was going and back... man 2 bucks in gas doesn't go as far as it used to, sigh... I hate being poor.

Really I think it was the universe mocking me because I skipped my workout today. She's like... "Why don't you push this truck 10 blocks to make up for not swimming?" Luckily at 4:30 in the morning in Lubbock, there is absolutely no traffic. So here I am trucking along (so to speak) down Slide road, normally the busiest street in town. "The long and winding road" playing on the radio. I get to the gas station and I'm slowly pushing past this little Asian lady in the booth looking at me like I'm some sort of freak... you'd think she'd never seen this sort of thing before. So I put in my $1.73 I was saving for coffee and head on home.

So what's the moral here? ...I need to start using the phone.

--Will

I'm an ASS!!!

So I took this personality test, and aparantly I'm an introverted Mastermind and I'm also an Ass. I think I knew that, just didnt want to... ahem.. admit it. The good news is I now know that my ideal mate is ENFP! Isn't that romantic. She's called the Inspirer, which sounds about right.

My Bloginality is INTJ!!!

--Will

Patience...

Patience is the King of Virtues. He commands and conquers all other emotions. He is stronger and can outlast all his emotive brothers Anger, Fear, Courage, and Joy. Long after they have risen and fallen Patience is still standing, still holding the line. It's because Patience is born from Wisdom and Love. Wisdom teaches Patience, and Love makes Patience strong.

And although he is strong he is also the loneliest of virtues. For he must suffer the constant torment of the twins Jealousy and Envy which are always with him. They are the jestors in the royal court of human emotions. Jealousy dressed in his bright reds and Envy in her many shades of green. Together they taunt the noble Patience. Leaving him with doubt and challenging his dedication. But fortune is kind, for she has given him Faith his gentle Queen. Faith reminds him that Patience is needed. Faith tells him that Patience will conquer all.

Each man must conquer his own emotional Kingdom. Anger and Kindness, although strong and loyal warriors, are not worthy of the crown. They are weak, and are easily blinded. It is Patience that must lead all Virtues, and in turn they must fight by his side. Anger and Courage protect him, Love and Wisdom there to guide him, Fear always there to warn him, Respect and Kindness in all that he does, Joy his constant companion ...and with Faith, Patience will conquer all.

--Will

Fragments for February 14 2004.

I'm trying out another Fragment. If you don't know, it's where you take 3 random Fragment sentences and try to incorporate a story around them. The fragments are in bold.

"Wish I knew... how to love you." he says, a saddened look upon his face. "But it always seems like the harder I try the more I get hurt." The room that he's in is dark and gloomy, the only light coming from a tiny window at the top of the wall. It illuminates his face as he grimaces in tortured pain. "I don't know how many times I can be hurt and keep coming back." A tormented and frustrated look inhabits his face, then suddenly we see why... "I've already broken my arms, no telling what's next. I don't know how much more I can take." Malcom sits pensively at the foot of the hospital bed. His broken arms jutting precariously forward. His whole torso and arms are cast in white plaster. A tear starts to fall down his cheek, made even more sad by the fact that he has no mobile appendage with which to wipe it away. "I only want to be loved." he mourns aloud.

Suddenly a Nurse enters the room laden with latex and gauze. She is large and unwieldy, her massive buttocks barely contained by her unforgiving white skirt. She speaks in a loud screechy tone, "Okeeay Mesta Malcom. It's time for'sha 4 o'clock prickin'." An enormous needle makes it's way to Malcom's side. The nurse with her delicate Dominatrixy ways man-handles Malcom's torso into strange and uncomfortable positions. He screams out, unsure whether the pain is from the jabbing needle or her twisted malaise. In the end it doesn't matter, because his heart is broken. His tangled bones and bruised skin, can't match the pain of his blackened stony heart. It has died, and he will never love again. "So bring on the pain..." He thinks to himself. Suddenly the pain is brought as Nurse bends him back into place. He screams out even louder than before. She looks at him scornfully, as though she can't stand his pathetic cries. "If you think they're goin'ta get bedda wit'out any pen, you're in faw sum real trouble Meesta Malcom." He returns the scornful look, knowing full well she could never know his pain, for she has never lost as much as he has.

When you don't get to be with the one you love, no pain can match that torture. He smiles slightly at Nurse as she leaves the room. For he knows something that she will never know. He knows that there is someone so special that she could make all of his pain go away. If only he knew how to love her. He returns to his pensive pondering. Counting the bricks in the wall and mumbling to himself. "...Wish I knew how to try. Wish I knew.. how to love you."

--Will

It's a perfect night...

It's snowing lightly outside and it's a little bit chilly. This is the weather I grew up with. Quiet gray skies and fluffy white snow, falling from God only knows where. All the cars are put away beneath their blankets of white and everyone's inside to keep warm. I stand in the middle of roads and pretend the world is all mine. Then softly I make tracks through the fresh fallen snow, my echoing footsteps speaking aloud. There are no other sounds, no singing night birds or cars racing by ...nothing is all I can hear. Except for the sound of my thoughts, as if I were speaking aloud. I imagine this is what Sydhartha felt nearing enlightenment beneath his old tree.

The thoughts tumble round my tranquil brain... "I remember this smell, I remember this air, I remember remembering these things." ...I walk on further my mind continues to wander. "I wonder who else feels this magic tonight? Who else will remember this time?"

--Will

I've been thinking about beginnings

...In writing that is.

I watched Boondock Saints again last night. The first time I'd ever seen it was just a couple days ago. What I love most, is how effortlessly they introduce the characters. There is no doubt in your mind who they are from the first moment any of them are on the screen. Even if there are questions about the characters, your first instincts are usually right. And the hooks are so deeply embedded into the viewer that there is no getting away.

Take the very beginning for instance. The McManus brothers sit in a pew in the back of a modest catholic cathedral. They are dressed in black and elaborate tattoos peek out from underneathe their clothes. Not your typical church goers. Especially contrasted amongst brightly dressed church folk. But despite this, most of the congregation seem to react to the brothers as if they belong. Except for two characters. One, a little girl on the end of the bench from them, she seems curious, as if she's waiting for them to do something, ...Which they do. The second character, the preacher speaking from the pulpit at the head of the church, and the only preacher in colored robes, finishes his sermon and begins to sit down. A second preacher stands up and thanks the first for coming all the way across town from the other side of Boston. So we now know that he is not accustomed to this parish.

Suddenly the brothers stand up, and walk to the head of the church. The entire time the regular preacher is giving a sermon, about a young girl that was killed the night before, and that dozens of bystanders watched and did nothing. You can hear anger and frustration in his voice, but all the while he barely acknowledges the two brothers walking past to the crucifix behind him. They kneel down to pray. But the newcomer notices, he starts to stand up, agog at this unusual activity and one of the other parishioners gently places a hand on him to have him sit down. The viewer is now thinking, "Huh, so this is a regular thing?" The new preacher warily sits down again and the regular preacher continues with his words. As he is finishing, the brothers make their way back out of the church to the door, and turn to listen to his final phrase, "The only thing worse than Evil... Is when good men are indifferent!" Accent on the frustration and anger in his words. The brothers walk out, more tattoos are revealed, they light up their cigarettes and go on their merry way.

The whole scene takes about a minute. But it so deftly establishes the characters as potential "Angels of Death" and makes them believable, that you never doubt it for the rest of the movie. There's dozens more characters, that are introduced just as well. From the bartender at the Brothers favorite bar, with his stuttering/turret persona, made even funnier by his thick Boston accent and his misunderstanding/misuse of colloquialism, "Make like a tree and FUCK OFF!" To the Italian Mob-boss, quietly sitting with a phone to his ear while two other characters berate each other. Then after nearly 2 minutes of sitting motionless and expressionless he suddenly stands up and is screaming cuss words into the phone and turning red-faced. Suddenly his is a very imposing character. Excellent stuff.

I do have a few problems with the movie, despite it now being one of my favorites. I think it really falls apart at the end. Willem Dafoes character gets a little too wierd. And most of the scenes with Billy Connelly at the end, they're cute scenes, but it kinda loses it's believability for me. But it's still a great movie and I can't recommend it highly enough.

Back to beginnings...

Right now I'm trying to write the opening to my pirate story. And this is the first time that I've really thought about beginnings in a while. I've always known it was crucial to hook the readers in just a couple pages, and I always thought I knew how to do it. And in a way I guess I do, I know it but I don't understand it. Yet!

In my mind, the key to introducing a character, and a story, is in the way that other characters react to them. I think about when I'm sitting around a table with a bunch of other friends at Denny's or a coffee shop or something. Suddenly someone comes in with a new friend, someone that I've never met before. Of course, there are the descriptors. Is (s)he cute/competition? Does (s)he look interesting? But most of what I learn about this character in the first few encounters is what I gather from other characters/friends. I'm sort of watching how other people treat this new character. Are they rolling their eyes, like they think (s)he's a loser? Are they mouthing jokes without him/her looking? Or.. Are they all vying for his/her attention? Everyone is trying to make eye-contact with him/her? Or are they trying to relate some little quip that renews an instant connection between these two individuals, out of a large group? Essentially... How do they react? I've heard this before in writing too, that 90% of character development and 90% of action is in "Reaction". And the formula has always seemed to work for me before.

But I'm starting to notice how I go about doing it in my writing. I've realized I have a tendency to start into a scene after the action has happened, so that you are seeing the reaction first. That way you are engaging the reader even more, because they want to figure out what happened to cause this reaction. This technique has pitfalls though, I find I have to rewrite things several times to make sure that all the necessary clues are in there for the reader to connect the dots. But it seems to be coming more naturally with practice. That's how it happened with my comic book art. When I first started I would have to use twice as many panels to tell the same story. Because I was trying to draw the before, during and after of a situation. The more I did it the more I learned that all I had to draw was the reaction. What happens the moment after the punch? And drawing the characters reacting to what was said in the same panel instead of what was said in the last panel. Tricks like that. Anyways, I'm starting to see how that happens in writing as well.

So that's my spiel. I don't know if it helped me to figure out my intro, but I think getting these thoughts out there helps me understand the process better.

--Will

Diet and Exercise update

This is week 6 of my diet and exercise. It's been tough ever since I started month 2 of lifting weights. Since the weight is doubled what it was before, my muscles kind of wince at the thought of doing it. So I've only been getting in 2 weight workouts a week instead of 3, and I've been slacking on those. I've got to get back to where my body is craving it. Swimming is still going well, I've been every day that I was supposed to. And I haven't started running yet, mostly because it's fricking cold. But I gave myself two weeks to start into running, so I've still got a shot next week.

Diet has been good. Even though there hasn't been enough food in the house this week I've stayed pretty consistent. There was a very nasty incident with some sweet and sour chicken and an all night binge with burger king, beer and chocolate sauce earlier this week.. But we won't talk about that. Overall the diet seems pretty stable. My major weaknesses seem to be less of a problem. There's been no late nights at EZ mart with DR pepper and Candy bars then driving around feeling stoned. Burger king was a one time thing. It didn't mean anything.. honest it didn't. And my craving for raw vegetables cannot be sated, which is a good sign that the balance has tipped from craving highfat/highcarb stuff to craving healthy foods. Never thought that would happen.

I've decided that I will probably keep more accurate accounts of what I eat, and how I exercise each day and list it up here. I was afraid of mixing it too much with the rest of my writing. But this is the most important thing in my life right now. This is my number one goal this year, to lose weight and get in shape. And I need to hold myself more accurately accountable. I'll try to keep it on the DL though so I don't get "..and he died in her arms..." followed by "...and I ate 3 bananas and a taco."

--Will

The things that never leave us...

Accepting all I've done and said, I want to stand and stare again.
Till there's nothing left to say... it remains there in your eyes.
Whatever comes and goes, I believe in your silent call.
and I will touch this tender wall, until I know I'm home again.
It's in your eyes.

Love...
I get so lost, sometimes.
Days pass and this emptiness fills my heart.
When I want to run away, I drive off in my car.
But whichever way I go I come back to the place that you are.
And all my instincts... they return and the grand facade, so soon will burn.
Without a noise, without my pride, I reach out from the inside.

Love...
I don't like to see so much pain, so much wasted.
And each moment keeps slipping away.
I get so tired of working so hard for our survival.
I look to these times with you, to keep me awake and alive.
And all my instincts... they return and the grand facade, so soon will burn.
Without a noise, without my pride, I reach out from the inside.

In your eyes... I see the light, the heat.
In your eyes... I am complete.
In your eyes... I see the doorways to a thousand churches
and a resolution of all my fruitless searches.
In your eyes... I want to see the light and the heat.
In your eyes... I want to be that complete.

I want to touch the light the heat I see in your eyes.

In your eyes.
--Peter Gabriel

Irritating LaLa's, Narcoleptic Puppies and other disturbing trends...

Aka. What my friends are up to these days.

I've always prided myself on having weird friends, but lately things seem to be beyond the normal weird. Luey has decided he wants to start breeding narcoleptic puppies. Frankly, I think the stress of getting married has finally made him crack. His reasoning for breeding these doggie doormats is they're less likely to run away. Once they get outside they get so excited that they pass out asleep. I suppose he's right, no one ever said "you can't teach a comatose dog new tricks." But it just seems like so much trouble, the cross-breeding, the canine sleep studies, the endless nights of tranking out wiener dogs with codeine and Jack Daniels. It sounds like work, work, work. And what do you do with those puppies that get the reverse genes and stay up for weeks on end, nervously shaking and incessantly barking... oh wait, he's already got one of those. Pfft!

Then there's David and this... How anyone could unleash such horrors upon the earth, I cannot even imagine. This man must be stopped.

And I'm not going to mention all the nipple twisting and strip parcheesy going on at Mr. B's house.

Actually... come to think of it, everything seems copacetic. I love my friends.



--Will

Fragments for February 7 2004.

I found this interesting writing exercise last night and I thought I'd try it out. It's called Fragments. You take 3 random Fragment sentences and try to incorporate a story around them. The fragments are in bold.

The cold wind blows as she stands in the darkened corridor between the street and their courtyard apartment. Her hair flys briskly across her face as she tries to keep her composure. He stands directly across from her in his long black winter coat. His arms are crossed and he's trying to keep his face from her. "Please remember me." she says, stepping over the broken roses scattered across the floor. She leans in to hug him but there is no embrace. He remains stoic, unchanging, as he quietly replies "I think you ought to go."

She turns to leave, hesitantly at first. She steps from the alcove, and is cast in the light of the setting sun, she turns to him and says "I'm sorry... It's not that I wanted to hurt you." She pauses, contemplating any way to comfort his broken heart. "I just don't know what I want anymore." As she turns the corner she suddenly realizes that she is lost. She's been down this road a thousand times, but suddenly nothing seems familiar. The streets are labyrinths as she walks aimlessly among them. But it doesn't matter, she's left love behind. No place can feel like home again. "Please remember me." she remembers pleading. "Why did I say that?" she thinks, "Am I afraid of being forgotten? Am I afraid of never finding love again?" Suddenly she finds herself standing in the middle of a busy street as the realization finally dawns upon her. "I'm afraid of never being in his life again." The cars dart past her, honking loudly, the confusion like the way she feels right now. He wasn't trying to tame her... or take away her freedom. That morning he bought her a chance for a lifetime of love. And she threw it to the ground with his roses.

She ran. Her chest heaved to exhaustion as she entered the darkened corridor once again. And she noticed that the roses were gone, every last petal had been collected. She runs to their apartment door, almost in tears, hoping that he is still there. But before she can open the door she hears a voice from behind her. "I could never forget you." She spins to see him sitting at the edge of the courtyard fountain, with a dozen more roses. She can't hold back the tears as she runs to him. And in his arms she fell and the sun came down. And they shared the night together.

I know it's cheesy, but hey... It's a start.

--Will

Get me out of this place.

I want to swim in the ocean. Right now. I'm sick of living in this dusty desert. It's a mellow life coated in deep browns and greys. I want to swim in the ocean, and smell the sea air. I want to 'want' to wake up in the mornings. All the magic here comes from the night. This dirty old town. But God it is beautiful tonight. The sky is wrapped in a blanket of mist. Fog drifts through the trees and back into itself. It echoes, the air does. It's like the world is lost in thought, and you can hear her sighing as she contemplates this sleeping city. But it changes nothing.. I would give anything to get in a car and drive and drive and drive... until there are waves lapping at my feet. And the sun hitting my back as it greets the pacific ocean.

...sigh... but not today. Maybe tomorrow.

--Will

Lost in Moments of Dreaming...

It is morning, and light sifts through the bamboo window screen. The room is washed in light the color of warm oranges, reds and gold. She suddenly slips from the bed, gently wrapping a blanket around her. The sheet spills around her as she moves softly across the room, leaving her back exposed to my sleepy gaze. Her body comes to rest on the seat in front of the window, so she can bask in the soft morning light. Warmth caresses her face as she closes her eyes and leans back her elegant neck. I watch as her long auburn hair pours over her shoulder. I suddenly see a calmness that I've never seen in her before. She takes in a deep breath, as though it were her first, then she opens her mouth to speak, "It's been so long since I've seen the morning." The sentence rings in the air joining the specks of floating dust in the bright morning light. "I've never been in love like this..." she said, finally letting her breath go free. I let the words hang in the air, enjoying their potent message. After staring out the window for a long and thoughtful moment, she turns to look over her shoulder at me, "...I've never been in love like this." she says, as if finally aware of it's meaning. I cross over the room and sit down behind her, then wrap my arms around her. I put my head on her shoulder and together... we quietly soak in the sun.

--Will

...Never mentions the word addiction... in certain company.

I realized tonight that I'm a recovering addict. I'd never really considered myself an addict. That's a harsh word. But that's exactly what I am. I'm addicted to foods. I've talked about it a few times on here, how it often felt like I was getting high when I'd over-eat. But I never really associated that with addiction. Despite it being the most logical link. So now, when I find myself caving from time to time to temptations like eating at BK or sneaking Snacks... I'm really just falling off the wagon. This is my heroin... my alcohol... the monkey on my back. Suddenly these seemingly harmless slips have more impact when I look at them.

See the thing is, being overweight is just a symptom. It's not my real problem. It's just a visual clue that there is a bigger issue permeating my life somewhere. And that problem is a lack of control. Because I surrendered control of my life to laziness and convenience. It was easier to "grab a burger" or "supersize". I was too lazy to go for a walk, or cook my own food. I was too busy to exercise or I didn't have the time or I had better things to do. Those are all bull-shit excuses. I have more time now in my life, because I make the time to exercise. I schedule the time to do things... I am in CONTROL of the time to do things. And I finally have the energy to do them.

But I can no longer look on my occasional lapses into temptation as innocent, or inevitable. This is serious now. I am fighting my addictions. I am in rehab, I am taking this one day at a time. I hate letting anything have control over me. No more. I'm done with this fucking excuse.

It's time to shed this skin and live again.

--Will

Needing Love is Not a Sin...

I walk quietly like a ghost among those in love. Careful to not be resentful of another's fortune. Admiring the magic of lovers, how they make each other better than they are. How they reflect in each other what one takes for granted. The patient merit that love brings. Forgiveness, Grace and Comfort are all things they drink deeply from their loving cups. I stand stoic, and patient. Aware that my loveless bonds are my own. I want to be proud of myself, before I share my heart again with another. So I work on, chipping away at the wall I've built around myself, destroying everything that's stood in the way of my happiness. Confident that love will be mine. Too tired to fight, too hopeful to not.

--Will

Lucky to live, lucky to be alive.

I found out tonight that my friend David was in a horrible car wreck this morning. What a way to spend a birthday! It totaled his car, and the firemen had to cut him out. He's lucky to be alive, and I'm glad that he is. But not even a minute after I found out about the accident, I discovered that someone else that I knew, from long ago, died in a car accident a couple months back. Her name was Gretchen Goodwin, I went to Grade school, Junior High and High school with her. She was always one of the nicest people to me. I remember her being a wonderful person and a true spirit. It's always shocking to hear that someone you've known for years has died, it's even more so when they were so special. But she lived her life to it's fullest. She lived more in her short time than most people will in their whole lives.

I sometimes feel resentment for not having stayed there. In a way I feel robbed of my connection to something. I've always felt like a nomad, learning to blend in wherever I am, but never really belonging anywhere. Maybe I would have felt that way no matter what. Maybe that's the way I was made to be. But when I hear of someone dying, or someone succeeding from my old home, it saddens me a little that I'm not close enough to them to really share my sympathy in pain, or rejoice in their triumphs. I mean I do have friends there still, but really... I no longer belong. It will probably be that way some day where I am now. But I guess that's how life is.

Goodbye Gretchen, You lived your life well. I only hope I can do the same. As for David, I'm grateful you're still in my life, and I hope you know that life's too short to waste. Living is what life is for. Happy birthday bud.

--Will

The Ghost In You...

A man in my shoes runs alight,
and all the papers lied tonight,
Cause falling over you is the news of the day.
Angels fall like rain... and love... is all of heaven away.

A race is on, I'm on your side.
But here in you, my engines died.
I'm in a mood for you or for running away.
All the stars come down in you.
And love... love... love... You can't give it away.

Don't you go... it makes no sense.
When all your talk and supermen,
just take away the time and get in the way.
Ain't it just like the rain.
Cause love.. love.. love... love.. is only heaven away.

Inside you time moves... and she don't fade.
The Ghost In You... she don't fade away.
Inside you time moves... and she don't fade away.
The Ghost In You.. she dont fade.

A man in my shoes runs alight,
and all the papers lied tonight.
But falling over you is the news of the day.
and love... will not fade away.
and love.. love.. love.. will not fade away.

-- Counting Crows

Back in the Current

I feel much better today. Got up, went swimming, and I feel good. Actually today I did better with swimming than I've ever done. I swam 40 laps(big improvement!) and I was even able to go a couple times from one end of the pool to the other without coming up for air. That's a first for me. It either means I'm getting more efficient with my movements finally, or I'm starting to use my air better. Either way, it was a big change for me.

I'm pretty sure we're going to stick with swimming 3 days a week from now on. And the other two days we'll go running. Get some variety in the routine. I've also decided, that the next time I have a break down like yesterday, I need to just go for a walk or a short run. Not necessarily to make up for binging, but to counter-act the guilt. Because the guilt only leads to more eating. I've I'd just gone walking after the mountain o cookies, I prolly wouldn't have gotten all depressed causing me to eat worse before going to bed. Oh well, chalk it up to a lesson learned.

--Will

Crash!

Today was bad... and it could have been so good. I skipped swimming today, which wouldn't have been that bad. But I skipped lifting weights last night also. The first time I'd really done that since I started this whole thing. But the worst part about all that, because those really aren't that bad, they aren't adding to my problems. But when I DO them they take away from the problems. Anyways, the worst part about all that is that I fucked up my diet today. I tried, I ate on time for lunch, had a really healthy lunch. I snacked around on healthy stuff all day, but then... my Grandma comes over with a whole plate of cookies for me. They were gone before I realized what I'd done. I felt sick right away. And even though I ate a healthy dinner I still felt sick. And then to top it all off I just had 3 hot dogs. Blech!

I don't know why I'm even mentioning all this here... I guess I'm just confessing my sins, so that I can start from scratch tomorrow. I think I'm so upset about it because the first thing when I woke up, I looked thinner! I went right away to take measurements to see if I'd changed since Jan 1st. I'd lost 2" off my chest and stomach. That's pretty good. That's like 20 pounds gone. Have you ever picked up 20 pounds of something? That's a LOT of weight. So it just sucks that by the end of the day I gained some of that back, just by being stupid. Oh well. Tomorrow's another day.

I've run into a couple snags with the swimming thing. Number one, it itches. Chlorine is friggin itchy after you've been swimming. So far I've been able to tolerate it 3 days a week, but I think the reason I didn't go Monday or today, was because I was dreading being itchy every day this week. So I think I may have to keep it at 3 days a week and spend the other two running on a treadmill or biking or something. I've got to stay on top of this thing though. I'm finally getting a foothold in managing my life and I don't want to lose that. And accepting stupid excuses like "I'm itchy" is not the way to do that. It's so hard to motivate long term. I can't see what I look like a year from now, I mean I can imagine, but I can't actually see it. Because I've never looked the way I wanted to look in my adult life. So all I've got is how working out makes me feel each day. That's what makes days like this so tough.

Tomorrow!

--Will

Good Omens

I've been writing all night, myself and kevin, the guy that I'm writing the Pirates proposal with. We finished writing almost the entire first 6 issue story arc tonight. I thought I was doing well yesterday with wrapping up a few scenes. But tonight we knocked out the whole damn plot. Complete with themes, character development, lessons learned, and a ton of humor. There's still a lot of work to do, only about 10% of the dialogue is done. But the plot is about 90% nailed down. And it seems pretty complete both as individual issues and as an overall story. It feels great when a story starts to come together like this, and even better when the threads start to tie back into themselves. Best of all, the theme and thesis really stand out. And of course there's my favorite part of writing, when the characters start to write themselves. I don't think I've ever worked on a project that I've gotten this kind of result with. I'm so stoked.

I started out in comics as a writer about 7 years ago. I had no ambition, or belief that I could be an artist. I didnt have the talent and there were many artists out there that were already better than me. At the time I at least thought I was a good writer. But for some reason I lost my nerve. What happened? I started working with another writer and he made me feel incompetent and untalented. It was in very subtle but condescending ways. And so I stopped writing and focused on what I was getting good at, which was my art. That was 5 years ago. I have hardly written a day since then. It wasn't till this proposal opportunity came up a few months ago, that I decided to give writing another try, and what I realized is that I'm a GREAT writer. That the person that made me feel so insecure in my writing, was just doing it so that I would feel like I needed him to do it for me. I wasted so many years in self-doubt because of that. It's unfortunate, because I would be pretty damn good by now if I'd stuck with it as much as I've stuck with my art. But as it is now, I'm playing catch up. But at least I'm doing something again... finally.

Heres an image from the story that I'm working on. If anyone's interested...


--Will

Self-Fulfilling Affirmations

I was talking with a friend tonight about changes we've both been through in the last 6 months. I especially am amazed at how much I've changed in the last 4 months. The changes began back in October when I started keeping a journal. It's not just writing down my thoughts that's been so important, although self-analysis has been essential. It's the fact that I've been defining my goals. I've always been good at dreaming and planning. I could do that to the end of days. But it's taken me the task of affirming my goals for anything to change. And man have they changed. What I've discovered is that following through, for me at least, comes from doing something every day. I wake up and every day I work out, I cook a healthy meal, I write in my journal and I produce art or writing. That is following through. It's not something I do over a long period of time, even though it is. It's something that I did today, and I will do tomorrow, until it's a year from now... and so on, so forth. Granted, plans are important, I have to work towards something, I have to know what to work on each day so that after several months it adds up to a final project. But believe it or not, I was shocked that I was describing a "routine." This whole time I've been thinking of it as, cliche as it is, "one day at a time."

My Ultimate failure for many years was all rooted in the fact that I wasn't following through. I felt guilty about not finishing the big things, those were the most painful and most obvious. But really, it was everything. I wasn't finishing anything. Each day I woke up and didn't know what I would eat that day. Each day I woke up I wasn't sure what the plan was going to be. I was a ship adrift at sea without a destination or direction. It's no wonder I couldn't follow through on anything major, because I couldn't even follow through with breakfast. I am not perfect (who just laughed?). I find myself learning something new about myself everyday. But I feel great about myself now. I feel confident and focused. I feel in control. I finally KNOW that I'm getting stuff done. There's no more guessing about it. I can't describe how different that feels from the pathetic waste I felt like 4 months ago.

One other thing that I realized from talking with my friend, was that I'm starting to discover the power of words. I know... hokey. A few months ago I started thinking about how the power of words work. They say if you're afraid of something, that you should write it down, because writing it down gives you power over it. It seems to be the same way with dreams. When you write them down they become self-fulfilling affirmations. If you write your dreams down, the universe will conspire to help you achieve them. If you write them down, it gives you power over them. This is essentially what I did when I started keeping a journal. I would write affirmations to myself about what will happen in the future. "Someday soon I will take control of my life and my body." "In a few short months I will learn to be more responsible." and one that I'd almost forgotten about, "I will learn to capture life in my writing." The moment I wrote those down, my life began to change, people around me started to change and the opportunity for these things to come true started to develop. I could write them all off as coincidence, or that it was my brain subconsciously doing the work. Either way... its working. These and several other goals are starting to become reality. Just from writing them down, and giving me power over them.

--Will

Go Figure?

Just a few days ago I was complaining on here that I hadn't lost any weight in the last month. Then I take a few days off from exercising before I start up with the "Shock & Awe" portion of the program, and all of a sudden I've lost 5 pounds. I guess I was moving so fast that I had to slow down to lose it. That makes no sense what-so-ever.

Quickly, I finished the first step of proposal number 1 and I'm sending it off to my editor tomorrow, so wish me luck. Second, I started month two of working out today. This is the month where you lift twice as much as you did the previous month, so.. ouch. Third, I can only do 15 sit-ups, how pathetic is that? Fourth, I just have to say that I really just love Honeynut Cheerios. They make me happy.

Good night.

--Will

I dreamt of an old friend last night.

Her name is Emily. I have only had dreams of her on a handful of occasions. All of those dreams came just before enormous changes in my life. All of those changes, were completely unexpected. All of them were wonderful. I guess she represents that change because she was so special to me. But I have no idea what is about to happen.

The dream last night was very pleasant. We had, of all things, an art class together. It was a long narrow white room filled with tables for working on. One side of the room had tall windows from ceiling to floor all along the wall. And plants hanging from the ceiling in between the windows. I never saw the walls behind me, until I went through the door, at the end of the day to leave. I sat at one end of a long 10 foot table about 4 feet off the ground. Very tall for a table. Emily sat on the other end and there were several other people at the table and all around the room.

The entire room was filled with laughter and play. And her eyes were, as always, shining and smiling as she laughed. We talked at great lengths throughout the class. Catching up on old times and making new memories. Somewhere during the day the teacher called me to her desk and had me go through a small black box full of pictures. They were all pictures of Emily through out her life. She said it was time for me to have one. I couldn't help feeling that I had to be secretive about it. Even though the teacher was assuring me it was ok. I guess it had been so long, of keeping her quietly within me and only sharing her with a few friends. I went through all of the pictures and they were all wonderful. They were each from different points in her life. So it was like me getting to finally catch up with her. Finally I came across a picture of such beauty, that I had to hold it and stare. That's the one I kept, and I put it inside my pocket and went back to the table. I don't know what any of us were working on. Some people were making sculptures, I was drawing. But most of all we talked. We talked like old friends.

Toward the end of the dream I went outside and it was this giant mall that I seem to visit from time to time in my dreams. It looks like I giant space station. With a giant metal cone in the center of it all. The narrow part of the cone points down and it widens as it goes up, but it goes so far up that you can't see the top or the bottom. There is an enormous gap between the cone and the walkways that go around the mall. When you look up you can see light streaming down and all around, filling the building. The place that the classroom is, is a great white hallway, with clothing stores on either side, and the doorway to the classroom, is tucked in the back of one of these stores.

I can't remember much else from the dream, only that there was something I needed to do. Something I needed to do for Emily. But I can't remember. Dammit I can't remember.

--Will