2011 was the year that I lost touch with who I am. In every measurable way, I stagnated. Instead of pushing myself to grow professionally, I played it safe in a time-consming, dead-end tech job. Rather than grow my personal and professional circle, I lost contact with people I considered close friends. Most importantly, rather than crafting new stories set in far-off lands, I took shelter in the creations I loved in my youth. Battered and bruised by a half decade of mis-steps and loss, I gave up and hid from the world. Deep down I knew that. Worst of all, I didn't care.
The only creative escape I allowed myself was working in 3D. Though most of my efforts were spent either modeling, or facing technical challenges like rigging or designing a LightWave-friendly displacement workflow, I did manage to create a few images. I didn't put too much thought into what I put on the screen. I just let my build process be utterly unedited, and allowed the images to flow as they would.
Here, then, are the results. I've included a few "Work In Progress" (WIP) images to also allow people to see the flow from unfinished model to final image. Remember, for every finished 3D image, there are dozens of WIP images that preceeded it. As such, the renders I've included below are honestly a fraction of what I created in 2011.
Enough talk. Let's look a year of 3D images, shall we?
January & February
March
April
May
June
July
August
September
October
NOTE: The NX-01 pictured here was modeled by my son, Alex Bruno. My sole part in its creation was providing image maps, surfacing, and the two final renders found in this article.
November
December
***
Well, that was sobering.
Seeing my work splayed out as it is on this blog entry makes me realize just how upset I've been this year. The choice of images is the biggest clue. Just as some people turn to memories of their childhood home, their beloved long-lost pets, or to that one special dish they eat while blue, I turn to
Star Trek when I'm feeling troubled. I do this not because the show had any deep wisdom to share (though the little morality plays that made up the original series are still worthwhile) but because it reminds me of the security and simplicity of youth. It's my "safe place", and one that I'm aware I'll visit while I'm down.
Looking up at those images, I realize now that I wasn't just down, I was depressed.
There's no mystery as to why I felt that way. I've allowed myself to trade everything that I am for a steady paycheck in a dead-end job. Sure, it bought me security, but it cost me my soul.
Those images above were made by a man trying to re-connect with that part of his youth that still had hope. With every render of steely ship hanging in a void, I was expressing the lust for adventure and unknown horizons that defined me even a few short years ago. As each day passed and I saw yet another opportunity to escape whither and die, all I could do was create another picture to help me guide my way back to who I was.
Fortunately, there is good that came out of all of this. First of all, I've already taken steps to change my life for the better. I work out five days per week, have lost weight, and have a personal fitness goal that I'd just as soon keep private, thank you very much. It's kept me motivated for nearly two months now, and I'm definitely feeling the effects of that change.
Secondly, looking back over the year's work, I see genuine improvement in my skills. The most dramatic changes, in fact, occurred in December of this year, after I'd been working out regularly again. Though that was not a result I'd intended from restarting a genuine workout routine, I'll happily take the result.
Lastly -- and most surprisingly -- my
Star Trek work resulted in my son and I being tapped for a new project that is both exciting and very fulfilling. So, despite the corny and cliche'd images above, the work did lead to something much better.
The moral, of course, is that it was far more important for me to be honest about who I am than it was to shove myself into a role that society expects.
As life lessons go, that's not a bad one to take from 2011.
So, what does that mean for the coming year? In answer I think I'll offer up a cliche' that goes very well with the images I've provided above:
"Damn the torpedos, full speed ahead."
Here's to a better, more fulfilling 2012.
