Happy Birthday Google!

At 3:44, I got home. At 4:00 I logged onto my computer. And at 4:04, I mindlessly went to Google. (I don’t think I’m alone in saying Google is my go to page if I don’t know what to do. ) And then I saw it. The cute, colourful, clay commemoration doodle to Google’s Birthday. ZOMFG. Google turns 13.

Billions upon billions of searches, millions upon millions of users and fans, all accumulated during thirteen awesome years of rocking out and being the best search engine a search engine can be. And there is something to be said about their hilarious, yet  adorable April Fools pranks and hoaxes, and their creative, and sometimes even interactive doodles.

When something so epically wonderful celebrates it’s anniversary, you can’t go empty handed right? So with a little sheet of paper, a couple of crayons and a Sharpie, and a little bit of warmth in my heart, I drew this simple picture for you, Google.

We here at SofD love you. The world loves you. I love you. And don’t you forget it.

Why I am NOT the Artist of the Duo

Scasm is an amazing artist. All our peers marvel at her elegant, captivating works, including myself. Time is nothing to her, and abilities and ideas are endless. I am in awe at her nail designs. I could never dream to be able to create such small, detailed, sharp, and amazing designs on something as tiny as a 1-by-1cm nail.

Me struggling to paint...

I, on the other hand, am very anxious. I try to keep track of everything, and get frustrated very easily. My hands are shaky and twitchy, and I have trouble coming up with a clear vision of what I want. When I think hard, nothing comes out.

And those darn acrylic tubes. I’ll spend more time trying to get the crap out of those things than actually filling my canvas with vibrant colours. I’ll have some weird spasm in my arm, probably caused by over concentration and anxiety, causing me to toss my paintbrush out of my hands.

I can express myself with words, much better than I can with drawing and painting. (Although my Sharpie cartoons do a pretty good job at that!) Creative writing, wordplay, and wit, mean more to me than designs, fine lines, and shades.

And that is why am not, and can never be the artist of the duo.

A Loser, Some Poetry, and a Cow

It’s been two weeks since I posted. I’m just starting to adjust to my new schedule, so I should be back to my usual self soon.

Anyway, today I wrote my first haiku. Now, this is a great accomplishment for myself.

Poetry and I never really clicked. I’d be fumbling for rhymes, trying for the perfect metaphor, slapping my knee whilst struggling to remember an awesome punchline. I mean, to put it straight, I freaking sucked at poetry.

I guess I just don’t have a poetic mind. I don’t understand poetry. The big picture is never in view, because I like to draw out the details. With me things usually only have one meaning. Metaphors take me forever to grasp.

But today, I did it. I wrote my first fully fledged, acceptable poem. A haiku. A haiku about a cow. (A Haiku is a traditional Japanese type of poem. It has three lines, Line 1 has 5 syllables, Line 2 has 7 syllables, and Line 3 has 5 syllables.)

Large, big, with black spots

Producer of milk and beef

and lives on a farm.

And there you have it. Taku is no longer a loser who can’t grasp something as simple as poetry. It maybe simple, but it’s special. And I am proud.

Richard

If you’ve read my last post, you probably recall me briefly speaking about my desk partner. His name is Richard and he is a skull. I tell him my ideas and he gives me feed back. He gives me some ideas as well. He is a cynical, narcissist, sarcastic little skull, but in the end, he’s a good friend, and is an important part in my writing.

Yes, I am aware that he is made of plastic, and has no ability to literally speak, or hear me, but he’s something of an extension of my conscious. A side of me that hardly ever surfaces. So all in all, Richard is alive.

“Lookin’ Good!”

“You beter get my good side!”

Richard was actually given to me by my brother last Halloween, and he sat comfortably on my desk, silent for a few months. (His name was influenced by a comment my brother made about how the bottom of his head looked like a penis. The slang word for a penis is a dick, and Dick is short for Richard. Voila.)

Eventually, I started to ask him for help when I was frustrated with a bad case of writers block, not really expecting him to say much. But he did, and started to criticize me, but it did make me get things together. I got out of that writer’s block (With a lot of help from Richard), and I’m doing swell. So now, he has sat on my desk for almost a year, and he has had sizable impact on my work, some positive, some negative.

Thanks Richard.