Here is the result of my first modeling tutorial. I think it's pretty cool. It took quite a while. I think it looks reasonably realistic. Many of the ones on the website looked like the sky was too dark.
So last Saturday at dinner, I told a friend that "I never get sick; and I don't even need to knock on wood when I say that." Well, perhaps I should have done at least one knock - just to make sure. Yes, it's true: I'm sick. My eyes are on fire, my head going to burst, my joints ache a bit, and my skin feels considerably more sensitive than usual. It is in times like these that I question whether the superstitions of ages past - and even of the present - merit the skepticism that we give them. So I'm sick. And I don't think that Airborne really works. I think it's all whooey, actually. I've drunk that stuff like six times since yesterday, and I still feel just as bad, if not worse, than I usually feel during a cold. I would bet that all the extra vitamins just pass straight through the body and are disposed of. Now, if Airborne does nothing, then is one superstitious if he takes it and swears to its efficacy? Are we still in the dark ages where witc...
I took a creative writing class in high school, in which we would daily have time to free-write. The theory was that moving the pen would spark creativity and give us something to write about, even if we were at a block. That's kind of what I'm doing here. What resulted were directionless babblings, sprinkled with flecks of creativity. Now that I think of it, why would anyone care to read my "free-write"? It is probably uninteresting so far. Answer: because it will likely be brilliant. Or not. This may just be a waste of time, but I'm in one of those moods that compells me to write, even though my thoughts haven't taken a definite form. I should be ecstatic for the sole reason that school is out, but I'm not exactly that. It seems like life is a tricky thing. It may be that we have more things to stress about than we can cope with, so we just pick a few at a time and are never short of supply of them; or there are multiple spickets that turn on and off, bu...
If you've never witnessed the germination and growth of a pumpkin vine, then you are missing out on something magical. This has been the second season in which I have seen the fruit of my labors, but moreso the fruit of the hand of God. This summer, in perhaps a more feeble way than I think, I have come to know why agriculture can make a God-fearer out of you. It all starts out with a seed scarcely the size of a fingernail, which sprouts within a week or so. From there the growth is rapid and vigorous. Within a couple months the ground that was once the home of a little sproutling, is covered with green. The pumpkins are formed and ripening. Where is the miracle, you may ask? It is in the fruit, in the vine, in the habitation formed by the Whole. The miracle is in the organization of Chaos. Dirt is entropy of earthly organic materials. Dirt is death, the disassociation of materials from a lively form to a non-intelligent state. Somehow the pumpkin seed uses the roadmap of DNA, wate...
I'd love to know how you did this. Very cool.
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