a little stream of consciousness.
what am i doing; playing ping pong with my dong song drum from mars bars, where girls go-a-go-go power rangers space patrol delta, nile river, where i swim, catch a cold, freeze to death cos i lost my health is wealth made from gold that we smelt in the heat that is swelt-eRing Ring goes my phone, pick it up and walk it out of town, face etched with a frown, and as i walk the son goes down, and the king looses his crown. Jewels are used to buy fuel to burn, and now that its my turn, the milk we chrus to make butter as i see that pretty girl, my heart goes a flutter. like all i can do is stutter, trip slip fall like a blimp. hello miss, mind if we go for a walk? i promise you i wont stalk, its just too bad were like cheese and chalk. C’mon girl i’m not just all talk, u dont have to baulk. No no im not lookin’ for a cheap faulk. don’t be like that girl, cos if you left now all i can do is sit down and sulk.
oh hello word association games.
taboo shoud have gotten with fergie.
why cant the good guys get the girls. why do i feel like a noob thinking about this. concentrate kader. finish your french first then you can think about frenching…
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amanda palmer x neil gaiman is gonna happen in 4 hours. but here i am at the lunchbox room. reading french.
but i stumbled up on this gem of a song… *happy.
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Bobby Chiu and Kei Acedera from Imaginism Studios. one of my fav artists on devart.
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kader, such a babe.
kader,that familiar familial tinge of jealousy. that feeling that somehow you’ve lost alot once again, and died a little inside with that introduction. that wonder as to why oh why? why didn’t i try harder, or at least try anything.
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kader, seems alot of people are stressing out over fyp.
kader, im grappling with the need to help out my friends versus the need to be selfish and work on just my thing… i think im gonna make that conscious descision to work on myself, because, one, im not much help anyways, and two, i’d be failing myself if i didnt manage to achieve awesome this time. im sorry friends. im just not talented enough to do both. im really sorry… i dont even think you’d want my help anyways. im just some that token fat foreign kid who dresses bad and cracks jokes. my opinions mean so little outside my group even though i can clearly see the mistakes that you are making. i try and tell you what you need to do. i pray it makes sense to you. i really pray it makes sense to you. you. if not, i hope you fail miserably, because im tired of caring when care is not wanted.
kader_i hate it when people put their peers on a pedestal, and rate them right on top. that is self defeating. i hope you can learn to have a little more faith in yourself. animation is not impossible to master. you just need to want it more than anyone else. so please start telling me so and so is definitely gonna get a job after graduation and this and that and the rest of us are going to fail in life. please dont lump me together with yourself. i dont want to hear it. your the escapist. your escaping animation because you dont want to put in the hours. you think so and so is good cos he was born smart. so and so sacrificed everything. his health, his girl, his other subjects, his friends. well so will i. so and so and so on. your nature stifles me.
kader_i entered animation thinking everyone was going to be successful with me, but 3 years on, all i see is a pile of grandiose visions swept aside like with the ideals of our fathers and the careers of our mothers. i only see people dropping out and going to nie. i do not see the passion i wanted to feed off of, and contribute to. i do not see people i want to work with. i see my lecturers as aimless and clueless as my peers, and i fear this negativity is killing the microcosm of my own group, which i treasure more than anything you could give me babe.
kader_this post is expletive free by the way. the first in ages.
expletive heavy. 2 knights to right many essays and read business notes… one quarter draft.
paying back your work debt by taking a loan from the sleep bank. so that you don’t get smelly when the defecation hits that oscillation. and trust me kids. its gonna fucking happen.
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when i see a couple enter a love hotel to bump uglies, i retch. i retch, because i imagine a roiling mass of fat and hair and sweat stretching a queen sized bed to the limits of its cheap wood and nail rig. why, perhaps the guy who hammered the nails into that particular bed could be fucking hammering and nailing on top of it right now.
hotel 81.
i really really hate the fact that hotel 81 is near my house. really. i went to but a bottle of 100plus and a can of red bull(not gonna sleep for the next 2 days) when i passed by this couple walk in to hotel 81. the old man had his hand so far up his woman’s skirt, he might as well changed his name to Gepetto.
you think to your self, that is one, ugly fucking mother fucker. and then you double back and realize in horror he could actually be a motherfaaaaaa…
and then you walk past the dingy shopping center where you cut your hair and take now and then whilst waiting for mom to come home and open the door since you forgot your keys… and you suddenly realise the amount of ass sold and snorted on in your vicinity might actually amount for more business than all the other establishments combined. two “hotels”, four”massage parlours” and one karaoke “lounge”. women dolled up with cartoony makeup. mamasan always touting me when i step out of the lift. 7-11 sells energy drinks, snacks, smokes, beers, coffee…. everythign you need.prata shop and durian shop provide the right kind of steamy stinky atmosphere to complement the general atmosphere of this lovely little cottage industry that caters to the people in my area who need to get on their good foot and do that bad thing, for less than a hundred bucks.
then you remmember that you still have 2 essays due last week and 5 lectures worth of notes and tutorials to sift through and one set of project and to top it off fyp which occupies an average of 20% of my thoughts at any time. so you walk off, into the orangey “darkness” of the night.
i will one day move out of serangoon. and this is the only thing i wont miss about this place. peace.
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this was a really eventful weekend. didnt get much work done. but it was fun.
on saturday.
graffiti workshop. hung out with rrrr and clavin. learnt the awesomeness of pink spray paint. hopefully i can enter the competition as well. not many thoughts with respect to this. i do know that i will one day leave my own marks on the walls of sg too. but i need to stop procastinating. moving right along to stop 2.trust me kids, theres alot to cover here. and btw, aids is bad for u.
yys bdae. walked for one fucking hour looking for the guys. covered almost 80% of east coast park. ate some cake. couldnt hang out more since i had other places to be and more people to meet. had the pleasure of seeing the book detailing stick and balloons trip thru europe. a real treat! the place they chose to chill out was actually pretty awesome. it was quiet. not too sandy. the view of the sunset made my day. then had to rush to meet andy and got to stop 3!
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play.had to watch one for my drama class.
we watched a play that i will say was more style than substance. i’ll also say this was not a problem for me, for my shallow self was in absolute joy watching the play. there was one particular scene which seriously made my 25 dollars worth it. one of the actresses was describing a car crash and when she said BANG!, she said it as bang. in a normal, if not slightly softer tone. and the lights changed for the duration of that word to a deep deep inky red and immediately switched back and things went on as per normal. very cool. alot of things i saw in the play could be applied directly into animation as very very effective and economic storytelling technique. excited.
ive always had this smug concept that everyone outside adm in ntu was cattle. which is true for the most part. but its never a good idea to underestimate your peers. more than once ive seen ideas and levels of thinking far superior to my own. more often than not during this class… its been pointed out to me that ive fallen into a particular mould, a closed minded thought process moulded by 3 years of exposure to only one type of media. oh the irony. i’m supposed to be one of the ‘creatives’ but im just another cow in many areas, not just in physicality.
its sad i couldnt take any pics. andy and siti seem like pretty cool ppls, but i felt quite under dressed standing next to siti who was looking very very pretty todae. hot damn.take a moment to process that. so i kept my camera to myself. met jeremy there. that was a treat. cabbed with siti to stop 4, which was also the final stop for the day. had some interesting, if at times overly reminiscent cab conversation on the way, punctuated with moments of wtf, mind you, not initiated by me -_____- . cab conversation has its own special appeal, because of the unpredictable duration it lasts. the fact that more often than not you feel pressured to talk to the person next to you to get the full worth of your fare, to pass the time… to not have to stare at your phone as if you have some important message coming in… the intimate quality of vinyl seats moving at an average of 80kmph is not to be taken lightly, everyone makes a connection during this stage. even with the cab driver this can be achieved, although its abit difficult to do so since he needs to keep is fucking eyes on the road. so moving right along… part 4.
nicoles bdae
got there in time for the cake cutting. managed to keep to my no alcohol policy for the most part. but had one quarter of a draft before i left. felt some guilt, which is good. took some pics with my buddies frm year one. love them to bits. but you already knew that didnt you.
sunday was spent in bed and on my chair, watching family guy and flash forward. thinking about pretty girls with smarts and my superficial self.
at about 1030 i finally got to doing work, and walked to 7-11 to get some battery juice.
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what if fyp turns into a nightmare?
a question that grips my throat everytime i take a shit or take a walk or sip my coffee. the complexity and the epicness of the various gags and transitions and effects we have crammed into our story frightens me whilst at the same time excites me. for whilst the spectre of failure looms everytime i switch on maya, the hope that i might finally achieve awesome is intoxicating. so very very seductive. so i soldier on. i push my life around. i dont do my fucking essays and i skip out on meetings, so i can do my fyp. and i dont regret it. because the kids at calarts and sheridan and gobelins and supinfocom don’t have to put up with shit like french and business finance. so neither will i.
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It occurred to me that those of us who tirelessly train to improve an ability, don’t do it simply for the sake of perfecting a technique; we do it to get a hold of that incredible feeling, the feeling we get when what we will to happen seems to correspond perfectly in changes with our surroundings. It’s that moment when technique is no longer an issue, and desire is the only thing needed to make a difference…
moety
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kader.i love all my friends and im gonna miss adm when i graduate. i wont miss ntu thou.
i couldnt see my play!
and we had to sit down and talk abt play. that is not right man. not right at all! NOT AT ALL!
although, i think my screen idea is pretty awesome. if only we had adequate time to work it out. its just such a shame i cant afford to burn more time on cdp101. its like once you step into yr4, your time and strength just fizzles out. i really have high hopes for the final project thou. ive met some individuals in my class who have amazed and inspired me with the flair and wit (one has flair, but isnt fair… one has wit, and he is fair…) with which they play their scenes.
its really interesting to work with people outside your school, as always…
its really really not interesting to engage in an intellectually draining lesson whilst sitting on the floor in an over air conditioned room whist your prof lulls u to sleep with a very wordy lecture on alienation in brechtian play. add to that the fact that there are 3 ppl close to sleep next to me and its a pretty lethal combination -__-
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but more importantly…
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“An idea is is fragile. it can be killed by a scornful smile, a yawn. It can be mowed down by irony and scared to death by a cold look.“
Chrales Browe, advertising boss
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day dream ,
i fell asleep beneath the flowers
for a couple of hours,
on a beautiful day,
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lupe fiasco. woah.
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kader_rock on rock on.
peace and love. lupe fiasco
it seems that my close friends worry about me. please dont. ill stop with the maudlin posts. im not frail.
the kaderstrophy is over. ok its not over, but at least naruto is starting to pick up again. so the world might just get better.
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i love animation. i just thought id take the oppprtunity to say tt. i think ive come a long way in the past 4 months. its been along and lovely trip.
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holy shit this guy is damn cool live.
i have john henryism
John Henryism, based on the African American folk hero John Henry, is recognized as “a style of strong coping behaviors used to deal with physical dissorders in their mind and to deal with minor racism”.
It is a personality predisposition.
wikipedia
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pecos bill was my favourite story when i was a kid.
carolina.carol carol carol
As a mocap artist, I can honestly agree with you on the fact that motion capture (please don’t give me that “performance capture” crap) will not stand alone in an entertainment piece. Mocap is great for two things in a film…
1) It saves your animators time by doing the large motions for them, leaving them to focus their energies on putting subtle expression and life into the character.
2) It captures small movements of the body most people don’t think about. Do this right now. Stand up. Stand fairly still. Become aware of how much your body moves regardless of how still you try to stay. Notice how much your leg muscles slightly contract and expand to keep your self upright and balanced. A living thing is rarely ever still, and mocap will add those ever-so-slight twitches and weight-shifts to a character.
Mocap is a tool. It is a tool for animators to use, to accelerate production and help them deliver more believable performances by supply more believable general motions. But just as a hammer will not build a house, mocap will not make a film. Mocap is only one of many tools an animator can reach for when creating something. That is why it is called Motion Capture and not Performance Capture. Motion is something you put into animation. Performance is what you get out of animation.
some guy on some forum
after surviving doms mind fuck everyone to hell session at ice3 on friday, ive been doing alot of thinking. animation, animating, art, mocap, character design. okay, not alot… but im doing a presentation on character design to a bunch of graphic design students, so im trying to adapt (read:dumb down) my stuff so they understand what im saying. hopefully i make an impression on them. im very proud of my character design skills…
my second life.
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no, this is not the angsty scribblings of a broken post teen adult longing for his glory days. this is work, for my vis 390 module. im trying to make a something somewhat like a temporal log and tie in everything with a narrative that loosely follows the visuals. what do you think about what i have right now? u like??
i like the font and the composition and the colours but i still think overall the look is pretty weak. need to experiment more. any input with respect to anything would be greatly appreciated.
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kader_kader
the best love ever?
i was born as deaf and as quiet as a starfish
but,
if i had been born a man i would pray
to the lord above
every night at the top of my fucking lungs
just to thank him
for giving me
voice
rives.
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id imagine seeing this in a movie opening sequence.kader.
pillows pretend.
4 days of epic sick. cum painful animatic plus hateful depression. and then we’re better. and the music we listen to makes more sense.
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I used to hump my pillow at night.
The type of silent prayer to help myself prepare for the light.
Me and my cousin Duce would rank the girls between one and ten
and the highest number got to be my pillows pretend.
Now I apologize to every high ranker.
But you taught me how to dream and so I also thank you.
I never had the courage to approach you at school.
We joked around a lot and I know you thought I dressed cool.
But I was just covering up all the insecurities that came bubbling up.
My complexion had
me stuck in an emotional rut, ‘like the time you Flavor Flaved me and you called me
“Yo Chuck, they say
you’re too black, man”.
I think I’m too black.
Mom, do you think I’m too black? I think I’m too black.
Black Stacey.
They called me Black Stacey.
I never got to be myself ’cause to
myself I always was Black Stacey, in polka dots
and paisley, a double goose
and bally shoes, you thought it wouldn’t phase me.
I was Black Stacey.
the preachers’ son from Haiti
who rhymed a lot and always got the dance steps at the party.
I was Black Stacey.
you thought it wouldn’t phase me, but it did ’cause I was just a kid.
I used to use bleaching creme, ’til Madame CJ Walker walked into my dreams.
I dreamt of being white and
complimented by you, but the only shiny black thing that you liked was my shoes.
Now, I apologize for bottling up
all the little things you said that warped my head and my gut.
Even though I always told you not to
brag about the fact that your great grand
mother was raped by her slave master. Yeah, I became
militant too.
So it was clear on every level I was blacker than you.
I turned you on to Malcolm X and
Assata Shakur in my three quarter elephant goose with the fur.
I had the high top fade
with the steps on the side.
I had the two finger ring, rag top on the ride.
I had the sheep skin, name
belt, Lee suit, Kangol, acid wash Vasco, chicken and waffle.
Black Stacey.
They called me Black Stacey.
I never got to be myself ’cause to myself I always was Black Stacey, in polka dots
and paisley, a double goose and bally shoes, you thought it wouldn’t phase me.
I was Black Stacey. the preachers’
son from Haiti who
rhymed a lot and always got the dance steps at the party.
I was Black Stacey.
Youthought it wouldn’t phase me, but it did ’cause I was just a kid.
Now here’s a little
message for you.
All you baller playa’s got
some insecurities too, that you could cover up, bling it up, cash in
and ching ching it up, hope no
one will bring it up, lock it down and string it up.
Or you can share your essence with us, ’cause everything about you couldn’t be rugged
and ruff.
And even though you tote a
glock and you’re hot on the
streets, if you dare to share your heart, we’ll nod our heart to
its beat.
And you should do that, if nothing else, to prove
that a player like you could keep it honest and true. Don’t mean to call your bluff but
mothafucka that’s what I do.
You got platinum chain
then, son, I’m probably talking to you.
And you can call your gang, your posse and the rest of your crew.
And while you’re at it get them addicts and the indigent too. I plan to have a whole army
by the time that I’m through to load their guns with songs they haven’t sung.
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yo yo kanye, saul stacey williams is a lyrical genious.
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and then another one.
im in awe.
i love def poetry jam. if only i had a quarter of the flow of these guys.
basically this beautiful lady sums up ADM in different words and different context, so where will you be 10 years from now, fellow ‘artists’ ?
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kader._ksder.
i love you bed. you’re always there for me.
something i saw on alfian sa’at’s blog
A common greeting you might hear on Hari Raya is ‘maaf zahir dan batin’. The phrase means ‘I seek your forgiveness for wrongs both obvious and concealed’. Incidentally, Az-Zahir (the Manifest) is one of the 99 revealed names of God, as is Al-Batin (the Hidden). There is something quite absolute about this request—to be forgiven even of the unconscious wrongdoings—which serves as a reminder of how our actions may affect others in ways we might not fully appreciate.
On Hari Raya, I asked my mother, ‘If someone asks for our forgiveness, what happens if we don’t give it to them?’ She frowned at me disapprovingly, and said, ‘What right do we have to withhold forgiveness from those who are sincere in asking for it, and who have acknowledged their wrongs? If God can forgive them, why not us mere humans?’
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return trip to New Zealand costs about 1.5k. backpackers hostels cost about 200 bucks for 8 nights. 2 day trekking tours for abt 350. car rental could be less than 25 a day. how?
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kader_still debating whether i should sheer off the goatee.
kader_i hear yeezy just checked into rehab. aww shucks.
cul-de-sac.
There ain’t no direction, I can see, that I can get close to you.
The British Columbians.
Sometimes we wake up with a profound hate for the universe. Today was one of those days. I woke up pissed. I threw an eraser at my nephew. And then convinced him to fight with his older brother. And then teased the older brother by throwing other things at him and switching off the hot water mid bath. I then proceeded to hide his monopoly set. And made him so pissed he actually came for my knee with his water bottle. At which I whooped really loudly. And shut the door. And my sister beat him and banished him to the room. And he started wailing, and rightly so. Today was children’s day. And his uncle had just fucked up his morning. So then my mom started scolding my sister for not shutting up my nephew and then so my sister gave me 10 bucks to stop being a bitch.
My mom then started to scold me for breaking my leg, she said that the reason it broke was because I did not believe in god enough, that I didn’t pray enough, that I better start now. But today, I hate the world… so im not gonna take any shit from anyone. So I decided to rub in the fact the fact that she had to give up her mama shop business and also remind her that thanks to her selfishness we were living in a dingy 3 room flat in hougang rather that an 2 story 8 room bungalow with a garden that could fit this fucking flat in. in more respectful words. I told her that she has never done anything for me. I told her she isn’t fit to run a business and she only has visions of grandeur and is going to be the downfall of this family…
Evidently I hurt her again. Because she decided not to go to work today, even though this was the last day and she was gonna hand the shop over in the evening.
I feel a very strong urge to topple every single cupboard in my room to relieve the pressure in my head… but instead ive decided to write about it while listening to Mariah Carey’s Without You, on repeat.
The reality of my mortality just sunk in that much more today. Im not going to be able to move much anymore.Im finished.
I hope I can get a job soon so I can just run away from home. This environment is so very stifling… I need a stiff drink
I think im gonna s/u French and take a break. I really don’t want to do any work anymore man. I just want to lay in bed and mop and listen to Seu Jorge and RiloKiley wonder how things might have turned out if I had stayed in Brunei. Or if I had been born somewhere else or in a non-Muslim family.
So heres an ultimatum to you god-man. Either you help me out or get the fuck out of my life… im tired of thinking of you and im tired of the shit your people are shoving in my face.
There, I said it.
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Kader_ I fear you have a meniscus injury. Id recommend an mri for the moment so you can figure out how extensive it is. Worst case scenario is that you will have to remove it, so your leg can move properly again. If there is acl injury together with that there could be a 6 month recovery period, but if its only the meniscus you will be back up in a month.
Kader_ the expiry date looms.
kader_i dreamed that i was being driven by my dad into a cul-de-sac and we passed by a woman in her early thirties driving a white ferrari and i wound down my window and got her attention and gave her my number and asked her to call me and wanted to touch her hand but then the ground gave way below me and i woke up royally pissed.
kader_im just going to avoid people today cos im looking for a fight.
please god.
dont make me have to operate again man. this is ridiculous!
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my name is kader
and the difference between you and me is my hips lie.
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miserable monday
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kader_walau fuck lah, dont call me bear can cibai.
my name is kader and this is like a running commentary.
we went to ma maison again on friday. we got a free pudding.
i think all the times ive been to ma maison have been memorable, for the most part. i like the maitre d lady there (sexy eyebrows)… i like the music and the chairs and the lights and the view outside. and i like the company. i don’t like that i have to go back to the real world after. and the fact that im in sch working on the first day of midterm break ):
on the other hand, ive got the lunchbox room all to myself. and i can blast mariah carey to my hearts content without anyone bitchin’ about it. kek kek kek///
(update) my mortal enemy just entered the lunchbox room. out of 50 fellow final year animators, it had to be teammate D. Death, Destruction, Dumbstruck i am.
(update) yay she got the fuck out. back to work.
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inspection by the industry. no Melanie on Thursday. shooting with the brunette on Sunday. days out with the homies the schmaties and the pool story and my second life. its going to be a tense week baby.
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my name is kader and i need to chill out like seriously.
my name is kader and i would like to end by saying i know i shouldn’t think too much into things, but its hard. and i know not practicing what you preach makes you an american… politician.. but c’mon man im young and i think so too. so there.
my name is kader and someday, we’ll meet beyond the stars.
agaga
gaga is gawsome.
qoute to sum up the song. one guy screams through the crowd…
i wanna fuck pop your bubbles baby!
he hair is blonde, but her hearts’ brunette.
imma let u finish but.
i tried my best to resist. but. to witness the birth of a meme. is awesome.
yeezy is truly the awesomest.
via <<<<NOT SAFE FOR WORK unless…
kader…
