How Do You Do That?

Today I was picking up some of the revisions that I have to do for the project I'm currently freelancing on. As the notes were handed to me, the supervising director said a baffling(to me)little fact. Not every storyboard person numbers their board pages or scenes.

What the..?!

How could that be? That can confuse the production assistant who has to xerox the boards and hand them off to the timers, animatic scanners, etc. if they drop the board and the pages go flying. Not to mention that even the artist themselves could get confused if they get the pages out of order. How do they do that and not get confused?!

This subject came up because I'm fairly rabid about numbering pages, scenes, etc. Not because I'm obsessive-compulsive, but just so that I can try to keep myself reasonably organized of what I already did and what I need to do. This attention to detail was noticed by the supervising director and production assistant of the project I'm currently on. They had some stories about certain board artists going off on production people when said production people asked the artist to at least number the board pages. Wow.

I wonder if those board people still get hired elsewhere.

Funny

Today I have a sense of accomplishment because I was able to mail off my artwork ahead of schedule. This is momentous, as I'm a fantastic procrastinator.

On my way out of the post office, I saw the funniest thing. A UPS guy making a delivery to someone working at the post office!

HA!

Pix

Here's some pix from last Saturday's game. This is the first time where there's good photographic evidence that I hit people while skating with my own team.

Above is the aftermath of me putting the smackdown on the Tough Cookies' Violet Fury. We both went flying, but it looked cool.

Below is a jam lineup ready to roll. I'm eyeing the off-screen Tough Cookies jammer. She's scared. Really.
















Here we have me taking Tough Cookies team captain Iron Maiven up to the rail. Haha, OW!
















Here's Maiven after I schmacked her. She was in the back of the pack, so I had to hit and run so that I wouldn't get a penalty for blocking outside of the pack. Yes, there are rules to this game. Who knew? Poor girl was pretty damn tired by this point. But I had a job to do. A violent, fun job.

















Right now I'm in the midst of figuring out how to pack up artwork to put in the mail. I bought bubble wrap and am trying to fenagle a way to shove one of the pieces into a just-barely-too-small box. Thank goodness I still have a week left to find a workable solution. Gosh, this being-an-artist stuff isn't easy!

Moving very slow today

I hurt.

A lot.

All because of Saturday night, where Fight Crew beat the living bejeezus out of the Tough Cookies 42-18(yeah I love my team right now!). The major stretch fest I had before the game thanks to the chiropractors that volunteer their time for us at every bout kicked my ass but good.

I asked for my legs and lower back to be stretched. The little guy who did it was very quiet, but damn, he was effective. I felt great during the game. I was feelin' fantastic and pumped full of adrenaline after the game. I drank an obscene amount of margaritas and Irish car bombs at the afterparty and was pleasantly hungover yesterday.

Today I woke up and thought I was gonna die.

My lower back is in pain. As are my triceps. I bruised the knuckle on my left ring finger. I have a strange, sharp bruise on my shoulder where the collarbone ends. My quads are beginning to scream at me. My stomach muscles are cramped. My ankles are sore. And this was from winning the damn game where I remember falling maybe about three times. Definitely a case of, "Wait 'til you see the other girl!"

Today I get to whine and mope because tomorrow I pick up revisions on the storyboard I'm working on. Woohoo! And then in three weeks I get to skate in this bout against our nemeses, the Sirens:

Expanding my Horizons

I can't believe I'm posting this, but what the hey, it's Friday and I'm in a mood.

This-here is a rough for a poster idea for the Derby Dolls championship bout in November. Because we're in new digs in Little Tokyo, several girls wanted a poster that's themed to the J-town atmosphere. So I decided to try out my anime hand. It's not as strong as my pimp hand, but I think when I add color to it it'll look more pro.

I hope.

Tonight I'm going to El Coyote for dinner with my team. I've never been there before, so it should be an adventure.

Tomorrow will be the first bout this season that is played without substitutes for my team...or any of the other teams for that matter. I'm proud of my team for that. They rock.

But for the moment it's back to work. I'm almost done roughing out the board. Thank goodness!

Test Etiquette

It's now the norm in the animation biz to have prospective artists take a test to get on a production.

I hate tests.

I'm not in school because I hate tests.

If they called tests "auditions", it'd at least sound a little bit better. As it is, whenever I hear an artist talk about the test they're taking for a particular job, I feel like their talent and integrity is being challenged.

Why?

Because most of these artists are experienced. It's one thing to give someone straight out of art school a test...hell, that's how I got my first job in the biz. It's another to have someone with 10+ years experience be handed a test for whatever their forte is. That's what a portfolio and a resume are for.

For a long time I wouldn't take a test, because in my experience with these tests I felt that if I'm asked to take a test, that means I'm not getting the job. I used to do storyboard tests and never got a job out of it. So why waste my time on something where I a) wouldn't get the job, and b)wouldn't even get a callback telling me that I didn't get the job.

That's just damn insulting.

Recently I had to start taking tests again. I've managed to get myself in a situation where I had to swallow my pride and do tests again. Both recent tests were for people with whom I've worked with before. Argh. Both tests were done in the alloted time I was given and I was in contact with the "right" people so that the process should've been as painless as possible. I got a callback on the second test right away. The first test? Still no word after me calling them for a couple weeks straight.

That's crap.

If I ever find myself in a position where I'm giving others a freakin' test for a position(the thought makes me retch), the least I'd insist upon is them getting a freakin' call afterwards. Especially if I know them. Is it really that difficult to pick up a phone and make up some stupid lie as to why you didn't hire someone? Jeez, we'd appreciate the effort. Miss Manners would have something to say to you, that's for sure.

Edit: guess what? I got a call this afternoon from the folks with whom I turned in the first test. I didn't get the job.

I never thought I'd say this...

...but I'm beginning to miss spinach.

As a kid the only spinach I was exposed to was the usual cooked goo in a can. I hated it. Putrid, awful stuff. As an adult, I came across uncooked spinach, and my world brightened. It was delicious and nutritious. A bonus on the iron, since I have the Red Cross crawling up my telephonic ass every couple of months for blood donations.

I was in heaven a couple of months ago when I discovered that one of the local Whole Foods markets had spinach caesar salad at their salad bar. Throw some chicken on that and it's the perfect light lunch.

But now, my world has gone gray again because of the E coli spinach scare. I tried to get some fresh spinach at the store last night and was severely SOL. I had to settle for romaine lettuce. It's nice, but it isn't the same.

Stoopid E coli!

Boardin' it up...

The skateboard deck I did a couple months back for a skatepark in Missoula is up. It doesn't hold a candle compared to what other people did, but I'm glad I did it anyway. Check it out!

Huell Houser - SoCal GOD

Yeah, you read that right.

I stumbled across this today and laughed until I coughed up a lung. Which is interesting since I'm not smoking nor do I have a cold.

For those not in SoCal, Huell Houser is something of a local celebrity. He hosts a show on the local PBS affiliate called California Gold. It's actually kinda cool...Huell goes around checking out weird out-of-the-way stuff in California. Just when you think you've seen it all, Huell finds something else to top it.

The best part of the show is the man himself. He has the interviewing skills of a five year autistic child on LSD. Well, alright, the kid could do better. Huell also has a fun southern accent, which of course just adds to the lack of interviewing skills.

To top it all off, his fashion sense is distracting, in a fun way. Not that he's over the top in his wardrobe choices...it just adds the proverbial cherry to the whole California Gold experience.

To those in SoCal...if anyone actually tried the Huell Houser drinking game, we could set up a betting pool of how fast the participants would die of alcohol poisoning.

Sat. Sept. 23

I'm going to be a busy little booger for the next month and a half. Work and roller derby. Work and roller derby where I'm skating in the damn games.

See flyer.

Sat. Sept. 23 is the next game. It's gonna be a nasty, brutal game. You'll love it.

We seem to have a new space for ourselves, too. It's in Little Tokyo, which is about two miles from our current Chinatown location. It's indoors. It's in a mall. It's in an old bowling alley that's been turned into a dojo. It's next to a bunch of tasty-looking sushi bar establishments. It's looking to be pretty danged awesome.

So if you're in LA, come see me and my team skate.

Finally!

I went and got myself some work. Union work, even. Hey, I might be able to keep my medical insurance now! Woohoo! Unfortunately I start today and will be busy through the next couple of derby matches. Stress, anyone?

Here's an updated Hillbilly Hula Gal. I have yet to hear from my friend about whether she likes it or not. She'd better, if she knows what's good for her. Just looking at it makes me wanna have a drink, that's for sure.

Tonight I may be going to an art opening after derby practice. I usually don't go to art show openings because the husband hates them and I don't have any one else to go with and I hate going by myself. So why the exception? Because I might stand a chance to actually meet fellow artists with whom I've been chatting online recently. Good thing this was planned so that I'll be showing up all gross and sweaty from skating for two hours. Way to make a good first impression!

In other art news, I have a bout poster and ad to do ASAP. I didn't want to do said poster and ad, so my enthusiasm level is in the toilet and I can't get the damn things done. Creative block, I guess. Persevere, I must.

Coming to a t-shirt near you...

Here's a sneak peek at a shirt design that I'm doing for a friend's yearly get-together in October. "S.N.I.F.F." stands for "Sierra Nevada Invitational Foothill Follies" and it's the California party of the year amongst our group of biker friends. The dog is this artist's representation of the afore-mentioned friend's pet; now deceased, unfortunately. The dog's name was Blitz and he was a patient fellow when the likes of us were stumbling around his yard.

Of course, I don't think I'll be making this year's festivities because I have a freakin' derby match over the weekend that this other event is happening. It would be a veryveryvery bad idea to blow off the derby crap for this since my team is skating in the October bout. Dammit.

I'd better see some great photos of happy people wearing the damn shirt as a consolation prize.

I'm so mad I'm gonna kick the air!

Here's an old LA T-Birds clip from 1978. I post it not only because it's roller derby, not only because the catty commentary makes me laugh, but the blond guy in jersey #5 looks suspiciously like one of the Derby Dolls assistant coaches, California Mike. Not like you'd know from this clip, but he's actually a helluva great skater.

Enjoy!

Ideas

Here's some rough sketches I did for a friend of mine who wants a "hillbilly hula gal" tattoo. This is the easiest drawing I've done in a while. She chose #3, so I'm in the process of cleaning up the linework. I'm not going to bother doing color for it. That's her tattoo artist's job as far as I'm concerned.

I'm still considering getting a coverup for the one measly tatt that I have. It looks horrible now despite the fact that I never go in the sun or anything. The things that are stopping me from getting it covered up is money considerations and what the coverup should be that won't cover a lot of real estate on my arm. There's also the option of removing the tatt. Hmmm, if I become gainfully employed anytime soon that might be the way to go.

Gearing Up

Last Saturday this photo to the left was taken. I'm wearing a stoopid headset because I was Game Executioner for the bout that was filmed by HDNet and so I was mic'd up for the full teevee effect.

All I could hear were the HDNet announcer guy and the San Diego Derby Dolls founder, Bonnie D Stroir thru the headset. Which didn't really add a thing to my job. In fact, because of the wiring from the headset, I was tethered more often than not. The only fun part was when the announcer asked Bonnie which skate name she liked best, so I got her attention and waved a lot. So she said that my skate name was her fave. Yay!

It was a good--nay, GREAT bout...the complete underdogs the Tough Cookies put the smackdown on the formerly undefeated Sirens. Lots o' violence, not much in the way of injuries. The crowd loved it, as did the HDNet guys.

Next month features the Tough Cookies going up against my team. Gosh, I guess that means I have to start training for realz and stuff. Good thing my concussion is for the most part gone.

I'm also working on a shirt design and some paintings. The shirt design is going well...got some cleanup to do, but it's over 50% there. The paintings...wellllll, let's just say I'm still experimenting to see what I'm capable of. I'd post WIP pix, but I think that would be an embarrassment. Maybe later in the week when I see how this crap is shaping up.

Up and Streaming

Hopefully this embed will work from YouTube of the KTLA segment where you can kinda see little ol' me! If not, the link is here.

Also, one of our biker friends' wives is a film maker. She's worked with Margaret Cho on all her concert films, and she did an Ipod type o' thing on the Dolls. It can be viewed here.

Check 'em out!

Enjoy!

Leave comments about how cool I look!

HA!

Fun in Hollywooooood

Yesterday I had to haul my carcass out of bed way early to get down to the KTLA studio for a feature that they did on the league. I met up with Tawdry Tempest who is now on my team and we put our skates on and skated around the hallways and studio parking lot as warmup. Most people were amused.

We got to hang out in the green room with celebrity-types. Dr. Drew was there and rather blase about our presence. Lisa Loeb is tiny as hell but nice. Hal Sparks seemed to dig us. A doctor lady was impressed. Dr. Drew was with some guy who acted like we were supposed to know who he was, but we didn't.

I found a good test to see who's famous...or thinks they're famous. Introduce yourself to them; if they introduce themselves back, they figure you don't know who they are. Or they're not victims of having an over-inflated ego. Dr. Drew didn't introduce himself. Neither did Hal Sparks or Lisa Loeb, but both of them were OK with acknowledging our presence. I had no idea who Hal Sparks was until I talked with some of the other derby girls at practice last night...they pretty much wet their pants on the spot. Wow. He's very...pretty.

The hosts of the KTLA Morning Show, Carlos Amezcua, Michaela Pereira, Mark Kriski(see photo above) and Sam Rubin were at least a known entity to me. Tawdry's smart and doesn't watch as much tv as I do. Carlos didn't seem to care about our existence. Sam was insulted when he mentioned that he used to skate on rollerblades and I called them "fruit boots". Michaela and Mark lovedlovedLOVED us. We met all of them on the set for our show segment, and we were skating around the host desk as dizzying speeds. Well, not that dizzying; it was a small space and the floor was slippery. Still, we didn't get to talk to them face-to-face most of the time we were there because we were skating.

Unfortunately the clip online from the show doesn't show the segment that Tawdry and I were in. Ah well. It was funny...they'd cut between the location shot at the track and the studion in Hollywood. Tawdry and I couldn't hear the audio from the location shot, so we were only able to hear what the hosts in the studio were saying in response to what was being said at the track. We'd try to sneak a peek at the monitors to see what the location people were shooting, but that was tricky due to a lack of space for us. I almost smacked into one of the huge cameras a couple of times. But my name did get an honorable mention as one of location hosts Gayle Anderson's fave skate names.

Afterwards we loitered in the green room. Another thing I notice about famous or somewhat-famous people. They don't loiter. They have places to go, by gawd. As soon as their segment on the show was done, they quickly shook hands with the producers and skedaddled on out of the studio. Not us. We languidly removed our gear and ate bagels until the Morning Show was over. Then, as the hosts left the set and went to the makeup room, I followed and gave them Derby Doll stickers. Unfortunately I didn't have the presence of mind to bring the damn camera that I had in my bag. D'OH! Ah well, again.

I think we have some new fans!

Lookit What I Can Do!

I started this design a couple of weeks ago and went into total overdrive this morning to finish it.

It's simple and to the point. I like the fact that it's going to be just a one-color silkscreen. I learned more stuff on using Illustrator to do it in a reasonable amount of time.

I like it when things go rather well!


Today I went to the Harley dealer to get gaskets and such to change the oil in the primary. They're now using these really weird solid gaskets that cover the inside of the derby cover. For those who don't know what I'm talking about, it's OK. I didn't know any of this crap when I first started riding many moons ago. Just nod your head knowingly and humor me in the meantime. Anyway, it's going to be interesting to see how that goes. I have to change the primary oil this week...it's already 600 miles overdue.

It's weird that now when I do go into a Harley dealership, I really don't drool over the new bikes anymore. I like the bikes that I have just fine. The only exception to this is when I spot a used police bike on the showroom floor. They're my weakness. I don't know what it is about those bikes that makes me weak in the knees, but I want one soooooooooooo bad! Not like I can afford one, but a girl can dream, can't she?

I'm still concussed but I'm slowly getting better. I can still feel my brain sloshing around if I sit up too fast from lying down or something, but overall I'm much more stable than I was last week. Hooray for my brain! I'm enjoying riding the bike to practice (I still go even though I can't skate) so that I'm not sitting in traffic in the car...ahhhhh, the thrill of almost getting squashed by ignorant SUV drivers is indescribable and yet so delightful.

Tomorrow morning I have to haul my carcass out of bed early and go be on morning tv. That's right, the ol' derby league is going to be on a local morning news show. Supposedly they'll have highlights from it here after it airs, for you non-LA LA Land people. Watch it, it should be hilarious!

Prepping for the Ride

I tried to find a couple of good pix of Wildman.

Not a whole lotta luck, but here's a little somethin'-somethin' just for chuckles.

This photo was taken three years ago in Jackson, CA during a biker event called, "S.N.I.F.F.". Wildman is doing his infamous burnout in front of the National Hotel, where they expect such things. Everyone, including him, are probably drunk off their ass and cheering him on in this endeavor. Surprisingly, the neighbors didn't mind much.

The past couple of days have brought out a lot of stories about Wildman and his burnouts, raconteuring, and riding. They're being gathered up to be told at his funeral tomorrow morning. I'm glad to be missing the funeral. The wake is where I'd rather be...it's more his style, too.



This photo is of me and Wildman having a Very Deep Discussion. It probably had something to do with motorcycles, I'm guessing. I look mesmerized.

Again, not a good pic of him.

I remember him differently.

Better than this.

The top pic is more like him with the black leathers, etc.

Today I have to prep the bike to ride up to San Jose in the morning. The husband wanted to leave tonight, but I don't think that's the greatest idea.

I'm officially concussed on top of all this. I should be fine to ride, but I'd better not try to stand up or lie down while on the bike, or else my equilibrium will get all screwed up and I'll crash and die. That wouldn't be good, especially for the poor fools behind me.

The more I think about how I had my spill at around the same time that Wildman passed on, the more I see it as a Disturbance in the Force. Geeky, I know. Hard to explain in anything resembling an eloquent manner, which makes me wary of posting this to begin with. Ah, f*** it. Like I care.

Wildman

This Saturday was going to be full of derby stuff, as usual. I was going to be at the upcoming bout for the flat-track league in LA. I was going to announce for it, even.

But that's not going to happen.

Instead, I shall be in San Jose at a wake.

A biker wake.

A biker who was one of the husband's and my favorite people.

On the surface he was a stereotypical "biker". You know...used to run with a club, rode his bikes outrageously, had very crass stories, used some legal and illegal substances before getting on said bikes, had a bike frame up and ready to rebuild in his garage at all times, did burnouts on his bike in front of all kinds of restaurants, hotels, dives, and other bikerscum establishments, a fantastic knife collection adorned his living room wall, a pool table was the first thing you saw when you walked in the front door, the type of guy that young mothers would yank their children away from whenever he walked by. His nickname was "Wildman", and he certainly earned it and lived up to it.

Talk to him for about five seconds and one would find him to be one of the nicest, most charismatic people ever. To those he liked, he'd give the shirt off his back(literally), the last dollar in his pocket, use of his tools, a place to stay if needed, and even a hit of nitrous.

We met Wildman around eight years ago up in northern California at one of the internet biker geek gatherings that we went to more often back then. Yeah, he was a hardcore biker on the outside, but a geek on the inside. A biker with internet access, by gawd. The first time I ever saw a crack pipe in person was when he took his out and asked the collective casually, "Anyone want a hit?" This was about twenty minutes after offering nitrous around. My little Pollyanna mind was blown away. Then he did some burnouts in front of the local bikerscum establishment while he was drunk and then sped off into the night. Dayum.

Every December he had a party at his place called the Winternationals. He was a Sagittarius himself, and this party was for those other Decemberists who also had the dubious luck of having a birthday so close to Xmas and other overshadowing holidays. We went for a few years, until global warming made it so that we couldn't depend on the weather not pouring down on us for the trip.

Wildman never got caught doing the bad things he did. Whenever we heard the latest story where Wildman would avoid disaster, the husband and I always commented that he didn't have just one guardian angel; he had a whole friggin' flock trying to keep up with him.

He slipped past the flock on Sunday night. The same night as my grand Flying Wallendas move off the track. At around the same time, apparently. Coincidence?

Probably.

But still.

He wasn't on the bike when he slipped through the flock of angels. He was at home. By himself. Apparently a heart attack or blood clot. Not a very impressive way to go, considering how large he lived his life.

No one who knows him was surprised to hear of his passing, but it's still incredibly sad. It's always sad when someone who was well-known and well-liked goes. And he certainly was both. In some ways it's amazing he was around for as long as he was...he kept those angels busy.

I'm gonna miss ya, Wildman.