review

In the house of screen is the Dr. Zork. That is me, and I am free. I am not a square, but I may be retangangular. I am not mean, but I may have a streak. I am here and on your brain and have some things to say about the fictional animator known as Akre. He is my creation, and I have a few things to say about his animation.

Yesterday he did not do much. Animation, that is. But he did string together the 42 or so minutes he has animated so far and watched it all. He added some sound effects. He is planning to show a clip tonight to some small audience, and wanted to take a look at the whole thing to see what it was like.

He is not sure. He knows he has been working on it, and hard, and for some time. Earlier sections seem like they were made so far away, so long ago, by another fictional animator, perhaps. He can see some lines he was taking and then abandonned, simply because he forget. It is a chain of life in barely more than half an hour - more than two months of slaving and slopping and moving some figures and that is what he saw - the best and the worst of it, but above all he found that he was completely unable to judge it.

I will not judge it either. I will just be mean. I will just write this instead of a blazing jazz review. I will write this rather than practicing some more my new way of playing the clarinet - with mind motion, with the wind of my thought breaths. I will, but I will not.

He did create a small animation of fire which will be useful for the next section that he animates.

Enough of that and enough of this. Here is the Pome of the Day.

in command of all fingers
bend them don't break them
and try again, slowly
see the bone in all the action

try to bend that leg
just try, in sit or walk
and it works, certainly
flexible and machine

imagine these ideas
shooting like sparks
does the neck bend the head into them
or are they in the air,
beside the ear, before the nose

Written in sincerity and with fingers,
Dr. Hubert Zork