spherikal by ion lucin

a very cool 3d short animation. lucin is a designer and graphics guy in lisboa, spain.

(click on the four arrows to expand)

he said:

This is a small animation a did as an exercise to experiment and explore all the graphical possibilities of representing the idea of the SPHERE, always thinking in searching Gestalt and form. Its all done in 3d, but i was more interested in the graphical interest, flatten the surfaces, and only two colors, why more.The most difficult was to achieve the transitions between the different type of representation of the sphere, the morphing and metamorphosing.

it appeared on the fox is black.

enjoy.

clown money

once upon a time Orphan and Elf enrolled in a kindergarden class. a new project in Laos.

where's the stuff, like toys and games and books, they asked.

our supplies are limited said Budget, the administrator.

this was a new vocabulary word for Orphan and Elf.

what's a budget? it's the control of money.

what's money? it's paper with people's faces.

may we have some paper and pencils, asked Orphan and Elf, WE can draw faces on paper.

here, said Budget handing them sheets of papyrus and graffiti lead them now-here.

be my guest.

thank you very much.

Orphan and Elf designed, illuminated and created paper money with faces of clowns.

great, said Elf, let's exchange these clowns for some stuff like toys, games and books, OK, said Orphan.

they went shopping.

carve

in a village
a girl carves
a gourd
she creates
children
families
animals
homes
forests
flowers
skies
rivers
stars
planets
delicate
lines
spirals
universes

weave

namaste on new year, new day, new moment.

elf sits with boua mon, a weaver in a village across the mekong. they met in 2010. she is gentle and kind.

her smiling laughter is infectious. women sit, sharing food, stories.

she looms silk threads. click, clack. click-clack. diamond designs. abundance.

 

after my tongue

I sat up straight, inhaled three deep breaths and exhaled far out into emptiness.

I centered my unconscious on the paper filled with nothing.

The entire world has been reduced to a blank sheet of white paper.

My wisdom mind of intent became water. It was quiet, calm and still with concentration and focus.

I listened to brush, ink and paper. I am a conduit. 

Be the brush, be the ink, be the water, be the paper.

Each essence is pure, free, clear and luminous.

My useless tongue flapped in the cold December Himalayan wind.

Stories and songs are birds. I heard children laughing and singing. They greeted each other in the babble of nothing, playing with strings of word pearls. They dreamed with their eyes open. 

When we are asleep we are awake.

Is handwriiting alive?

ecritureinfinie