Advice? Discouraged by chronic pain

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Re: Advice? Discouraged by chronic pain

Postby Winterbourne » Sat Jan 12, 2013 2:25 am

Thank you, Jemm, that's very kind! It makes me feel good that people know me as a helpful person. :)

Pain is kind of funny. I wouldn't say that chronic pain has any value, but it does sometimes force you to accept things that might otherwise take longer to sink in. Case in point, I decided to take some time off school. I also dropped last semester's class, but managed to get an overdue paper finished from another class and that felt good. Decided to spend time resting.

The pain gets worse and gets better sorta randomly, so the amount of painkiller I take varies and it makes my hands shake like a mofo whenever I try to coordinate my fingers with any precision (it's neurological and has to do with coordination specifically). I've decided not to fight it and just do sketchier stuff. I think it's helped me loosen up, though. I've noticed I became more aware of composition, which is something I've really wanted to improve on. I can't hold a screw or bolt steady for shit, though! As I discovered trying to assemble a swivelling desk arm.

Also, fun news: I bought a friend's old Lenovo Thinkpad slate and have been drawing with it, which has been nice.

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This is about as neat as I can get without taking it to the laptop. I kinda like it though, as a rough.

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I've been using pencil-type brushes in Photoshop, plus the shake, so s'fuzzy. Still, my sense of likeness is improving, I think. None of the three faces look alike but they all look like faces. I think Juraira looks the most like an actual person.

I invested stuck-in-bed time over Christmas well and watched The Legend of Korra and also Moribito: Guardian of the Sacred Spirit. Korra was awesome, because I love that crazy Asian Jazz Age style. Moribito is made by Production I.G. and is frickin' awesome. It has all of the things I like: interesting characters, scary original monsters, a badass protagonist, intriguing anthropological elements, and stellar production design. Srsly. Gorgeous.

The books it was based on had illustrations by Yuko Shimizu who I am lately obsessed with. I envy people who can do so much with so little information.

I've also been looking at paintings by Mahmud Farshchian. He's kind of a modern practitioner of the discipline of Persian "miniature" (which mostly refers to illustrations for books or albums). His style is less flat and delineated -- more Mughal influence, really. I'm not sure if he uses the traditional brushes -- they're very small and made of hair clipped from the neck ruff of kittens. Every kitab-khaneh -- book-house, meaning a library or a scriptorium (or both) -- would have a bunch of kittens running around with nibbled neck ruffs. He might use sable brushes. The traditional pigments are usually minerals with binders, mixed with water and laid in in layers. Here's a very fine example:

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Clickez to embiggen. It's worth it.

Anything blue is in ground lapis lazuli. The sky is gold leaf, the weird blackish grey thing on the lower right part of the illustration that breaks the border is a stream that was leafed in silver that has now oxidized. I actually wrote an essay about Bihzad of Herat, who was the head of the royal atelier of Shah Tahmasp when this book was produced, and the teacher of the man this page is credited to, Aqa Mirak. He's still regarded as the greatest painter in Islamic painting. This scene is from the epic of kings, the Shahnama, when the just king Faridun tests the character of his three sons by appearing as a dragon and seeing how they respond. One attacks, one flees, and the youngest commands it move from their path.

Farshchian did illustrations for a modern edition of the Shahnama. The book itself is by a poet called Ferdowsi. It's the epic of kings, a repository of myth, legend and history that is very important to Persian identity. My favourite bits are from the heroic cycle.

The first is the hero Rustam slaying a dragon. He's a lot like Hercules and even performed several labours. He always wears a tiger skin.

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The second is the son of Rustam, Sohrab, duelling Gordafarid. Gordafarid was the princess of the town Sohrab was besieging and went out to fight him, being disgusted by the fear of him among her city's fighting men. Sohrab was equal to his father in strength (they duelled in a rather tragic episode), but Gordafarid held her own until he managed to grab her belt and unhorse her. In the epic, she's dressed in men's armour and Sohrab hasn't a clue he's fighting a woman till he takes off her helmet.

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I mention it because a project I'm working on is heavily inspired by Persian miniature and the Shahnama. "Juraira" is actually a name from the epic.

I mention the painkillers make me babbly?
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Re: Advice? Discouraged by chronic pain

Postby Jemm » Sat Jan 12, 2013 7:37 am

There's nothing at all wrong with a babbly Winterbourne because the things said are delightful! Of course you are helpful,more than! You've always gone the extra mile to assist with intense critiques that are full of insight. How can I ever see it another way!

I have no idea how your illness is treating you or how intense it gets, or how you might be feeling as the day wears on but I know a good bit about the frustrations chronic pain comes with. The most irritating thing to me is the lack of consistency that accompanies it, mostly. You make plans, and just like that your plans can be ruined without warning! Hair-pulling stuff. I know about it well.

It makes me inspired to know despite all this you're determined to draw AND study as well. Do you go to art school? From the way it sounded you're studying the art pieces here for your assignments - forgive me if I'm wrong! Regardless, how do you manage with school and these bouts of inconvenience? Are your lecturers understanding? Are your deadlines flexible? How comfortable is something like that actually?

I've tried linearting with photoshop, don't like it at all. I prefer doing line work in corel painter, I feel the response time and the quality of the strokes are far superior. For large area painting and texture control photoshop has the upper hand though. But lines? I have tried everything - nothing to me has beaten painter in that respect! Have you ever tried it?

Mahamud Farshchian is amazing! Look at those works! They're so worth it lol.. beautiful beautiful stuff. I have to look for some more of his artwork. Will you be able to share the results of the project with us at some point?
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I pity the fool, bub?
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Re: Advice? Discouraged by chronic pain

Postby Winterbourne » Wed Jan 16, 2013 12:35 am

Well, after trying to reply to this and my android tablet eating the message 4 times, I'm moving to the laptop. Unfortunately, this means I typed a lot more! So much that I split it into two -- this is mainly about my experiences with applied arts and school.

In my experience, your mileage may vary, taking any sort of "professional" arts classes has almost never turned out well, at any school I have attended. I am convinced this is because of the culture of applied arts faculties, as well as the people who can get hired to teach -- everyone I've ever had a problem with would have been fired for the way they acted if they worked in a professionally-run company.

At the former Malaspina University-College (now Vancouver Island University, NEVER GO THERE) I did two years in the Applied Graphics program. I did learn some things I would not otherwise, particularly basic design, basic colour theory, and photography. However, there were 3 profs basically in charge of the program, and two were awful and could not be avoided. They treated me like dirt. Now, having been treated badly for being ill by the public school system, I was somewhat prepared and I had my doctor fill out some forms so the university knew I had medical conditions. They granted me certain accommodations, like extra time for work and a break on attendance. The two profs who were awful to me, Conroy and Hodgson, thought the university's policies were totally cool to just ignore whenevs.

Hodgson wrote bitchy emails about me instead of bringing concerns to me when I kept her apprised of complications (like a grown up), and Conroy showed said bitchy emails to me because he didn't want to tell Hodgson not to bitch to him and decided to make it my problem. She'd sent one mere minutes after I'd left rather than speak to me, so I was walking by Conroy's office when he called me in. It was gratifying to watch Hodgson squirm and apologize when it got back to her. She played favourites like it was an Olympic sport and she was trying to qualify for the national team, and the other students came to me instead of her when they didn't understand something because she made people trying to learn something unfamiliar feel stupid when they didn't understand. That's just a failure of teaching. I did retain what she taught about Illustrator, and about Typography, much as I hate to admit it.

Conroy was a piece of work. He bullied Asian students, only the girls though, because they were too inclined to kowtow to authority than think creatively according to him. 1.) Bullshit, I worked closely with them and he sure as shit never did. 2.) Did I mention he was an authoritarian ass who humiliated anyone who questioned him in front of the class? Also played favourites, also made people feel stupid and caused students to ask me instead of him for clarity. I should mention, those two years were when I was 19 and 20, there were maybe two people younger in the class so people were asking questions of a metal-mouthed young 'un. That's a failure of teaching. Half the class almost failed our first assignment because he didn't communicate well. I'm not even mentioning the sexism and the pseudo-intellectual antireligious bullshit. I'm not religious, but my friend was, and she was vastly superior to him in character, yet he treated her openly like a moron. He also nurtured a bizarrely personal antipathy for me -- and his mother, given the number of times he compared me to her (and his sister). Apparently not sleeping on a 24 hour clock is just like his sister "always [having] aches and pains to complain about." No lie. Guy treated classes like his own personal therapy session -- told us the same story about how his teacher thought he was "retarded" in first grade and let him draw pictures in the corner THREE TIMES. Because that's relevant to poster design. Or any other design. He was also an ableist.

Now, the English and Photography sections were reasonable. They understood the intense demands we were under, which helped. The Photography prof, McCluskey, was very good with crit, perceptive and clear and quick at identifying strengths (which was one of the few times I felt I even had any). The other of the three profs, Churcher, tried to be reasonable. Her classes were the most fun and generally the most value -- she taught Design, Colour Theory, and working in Photoshop (and print-related stuff). I'd rather have learned all of the subjects from McCluskey and Churcher.

But I never had panic attacks until I went to that school. My thyroid condition, Hashimoto's, is known to be caused by stress and my adrenal function is not great, and that's from wear. My thyroid didn't show signs of disease until after I left that school, I know because I had it tested before as thyroid dysfunction was in recent family history on both sides. My self-esteem was basically destroyed by the experience after I had to drop out. The mandatory attendance policy screwed me -- I learned more on my own than either Hodgson or Conroy were capable of teaching, and neither gave decent crit that missing it constituted a loss.

They're both perfect models for how to never, ever teach and I have resolved that no matter how beaten down by pain I get I will never become them. Ever. If I can achieve nothing in life but to be a decent human being then I swear I count it as a victory. Because to become like those two is a sin against the community.

So that was Applied Graphics school. The profs said they were trying to approximate the conditions experienced in the real world, but I disagree that this is necessarily a good approach when covering very new territory. I have never used it. I don't give a crap about industry unless the question is about industry.

The professional writing program at UVic was really mixed. The first year everyone had to take WRIT 100, which was split into 4 genres (poetry, nonfiction, fiction, drama). It was also the year of the swine flu, so mandatory attendance policies went out the window. That worked out great for me.

Poetry was actually the easiest and clearest with the best prof, Carla Hesketh. Fiction was all right, nonfiction was meh, drama sucked (I had to complain about my grade and the class average had to be knocked up). I also took WRIT 102, which was journalism. The first semester I had Denise Rudnicki, who was brilliant. She was press director for the Minister of Justice at one point, told us all about how government monitors the discourse, how they prepared the minister for questions, we even got to see examples of reports prepared for the justice minister breaking down the publication, the overall political slant, the tone of the articles, etc. She had us do a mock-scrum where we asked questions and wrote up an article about her. It was neat. She also told us about her time teaching in Rwanda. She's pretty rad, is what I'm saying.

Second semester journo was a huge letdown, different prof, badly organized tests and unclear criteria. The only second year writing class I took all the way through was Poetry 2, which was almost entirely a waste of time. The prof was off in the ether, mandatory attendance policy back in force--I got penalized when I missed a class because I was looking after someone who was bed-bound and recently hospitalized with no one else available. Because that's the same as getting drunk the night before and not dragging your ass to class, right? The crit was never worth attending class for, ever -- nothing anybody said was something I hadn't already seen myself, and the criticisms were often inane. There was a nasty little clique of students that acted cattily toward a girl because, gasp, she was Catholic! One of these girls wrote a poem that equated being raised Catholic with child abuse, about someone who was a devout Catholic. I pointed out the problem there. She later accused me of being a show-off for mentioning Kierkegaard, in a poem about existentialism and illness. This behaviour was never once commented on or addressed by the prof despite being waaaay outside the rules for critique (which we were all given copies of). I do not miss it.

I dropped Fiction 2 after one class because the prof decided my policy accommodations were less important than his critique submissions schedule, which was established by people randomly guessing numbers. I shit you not. I took a fourth year class that was supposed to be about repeated themes in film but was just basic Jungian archetypes. I knew it all from TVTropes, for god's sake.

The only other class apart from the first half of journo that was really positive was Writing for Children and Young Adults. Dede Crane, she was great. More useful peer crit than any other class, and Crane could turn around notes on submitted pages really fast. We were even given tips on how to read aloud to an audience by a guest lecturer.

So out of 2 years of graphics, the best and most useful classes were Colour Theory (Churcher), Design (Churcher), Photography (McCluskey), and Typography (Hodgson, pained as I am to admit it). Out of all of the writing classes I took, the most useful were Journo 1, Writing for Children and Young Adults, and the 6 weeks of poetry with Hesketh. Your mileage may vary. That's out of 22 graphics classes and 10 writing classes. Ouch.

History in Art, though, is by far the best suited subject to me. Varied, interesting. I've only had one prof that pissed me off, and it was for implying my friend (who also has chronic pain and autoimmunity) and I were being dishonest about why we didn't attend a class, after I had notified her ahead of time, and had kept her apprised about forthcoming paperwork and even that she wouldn't have my friend on her class list because of delays in processing paperwork. She had no fucking grounds to imply I was anything less than honest and should have known better than to throw around comments like that in an academic setting. So, as I am sick to death of dealing with bullshit from people who really ought to know better, I withdrew from her class and contacted the ombudsman. Pending.

Overall, History in Art has been more useful for actually growing as an artist. Applied Graphics never exposed us to new ideas or techniques and we never had time to experiment. HA involves looking at cool things, and learning about the context of events and people and movements etc. I like to make the comment that history has all the other subjects in it. I wrote a paper for a class on Gothic arts about artistic standards of proportion and skeletal evidence of medieval European populations. There's room to actually breathe there. You don't have to fit in such a tiny little box, and it can include as many other disciplines as you like. Engineering, physics, geology, economics, etc, all feature. I'm easily bored, so it works out. Also, no mandatory attendance! The profs are more academic and less stupid about things like, "You know, in the industry no one will tolerate delays because of your lost arm..." Why yes, Conroy did give a woman shit for delays because she had one arm! I didn't say ableist for nothing. Not like some of the most successful graphic artists/designers after WWII were amputees or anything. Jackass. He's retired now, merciful gods.

Right now, though, I'm taking a break. I'm just worn out. It also makes me sad to look back at what a waste of energy a lot of it was. I did graphics because my parents told me I should have some kind of trade, and I took writing because people told me I should pursue it because I had some ability. Both are reasonable advice, it just went really bad because I didn't fit in and I didn't learn the same way everyone else did, and I couldn't work the way the program was planned out. And there were too many jerks.

Taking into account that I studied on my own, the great bulk of the experience was negative. It stressed me out, honed my depression and anxiety to a fine point, exacerbated my autoimmune conditions so that I now have to deal with this kind of pain, I get periods of agoraphobia where the mere thought of leaving the house (or even my room) makes me feel sick, and I hate being left alone though there are times it's too exhausting to be around people. It's all left me looking at life on the dole because I can't work or go to school even part time.

The prof that I took the classes on Islamic art with, Anthony Welch, really liked my essays. I asked where I might continue studying book arts and he suggested a program at Oxford. As in Oxford in Oxfordshire, England, teaching since 1096 C.E., twenty thousand dollars a year in fees Oxford. I was really excited about that, but I try not to think about it now. Not to sound self-pitying, because I'm more angry at myself for ever letting it get to this point. (It's a bad pain day, and I'm feeling low.)

So... if my experience is anything to go by, the keys:

- find a school with a robust department for students with disabilities;
- find out what you can about profs beforehand; try to develop a relationship with them that is friendly and professional and keep them apprised if you think you'll miss a class or if you are having a lot of episodes, so they don't get last minute requests for extensions out of nowhere; if you get on well, see if you can stick with them for other classes;
- find some fall-back classes -- ideally go to the first class of a few different classes, get the outline and see what you'll be inflicting on yourself;
- if it's beyond you that year, do it another time;
- attend part time, and try to give yourself days off during the week to recover.
- if it's not working, withdraw early; if it goes to crap later, do a late withdrawal for medical reasons, which include stress, so that no fail mark exists
- make sure that your doctor knows you're trying to comply with their treatment regimen, so that they are more willing to sign things for you without thinking you're just not serious

I have generally found the above make things easier.
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Re: Advice? Discouraged by chronic pain

Postby Winterbourne » Wed Jan 16, 2013 1:46 am

re: the Persian-inspired art project.

I do intend to publish it online eventually, not sure what dimensions as eventually I'd like to have it in real book form. I vacillate between manga digest size and full comic size -- I like the extra real estate of comic size, but I like the weight of digests, plus they fit better on my slate without zooming. But that's not a huge question yet -- I'm working on different aspects as I can.

I haven't decided on the art style yet. I like the look of Farshchian's colours but that would be a labour indeed, and very fine. I like the flat colours of Aqa Mirak's page of Faridun and his sons. I also quite like the look of Ivan Bilibin's fairytale stuff:

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Click for wiki article.

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Click for wikimedia page with more images. I recommend Tsarevitch Ivan, the Fire Bird and the Gray Wolf, and Maria Morevna.

There a certain range of tone, but quite linear and designy as well, that I rather like. Never tried anything quite like it. I might try using a pencil in Photoshop instead of a brush -- that's how Nate Simpson does his pages for Nonplayer.

I'm writing out the story, and I have mostly delineated all the story and plot elements - I work out of sequence, so some bits are not properly linked up yet. There's room left for things to change. Thought of a better complication for one part just today, for example. Details of the ending aren't fully explored yet.

The story happens in 4 kingdoms and in different time periods, so I'm thinking about national costume in different periods, classes and locations. The Emperor of the south, the Shah of the middle country, and the Regent of the north country will all need individual looks. So will their courts, support staff, security, and the common people of their regions, etc. There are several religious orders that have similar elements but still need unique identities. One character has a range of outfits and uniforms and they appear in different periods and conditions.

Architecture all over needs some thought, and I also have a fair number of creatures to design: the wolfstag, sylvan cheetah, ancient and modern bear-people, selkie-like peri, peri trees, divs (demons), etc. One character at various points is essential animate rock, a deer, a humanoid with deer fur, an old man, and a young woman. The main villain has many guises as well. I already know more or less how I want things to look, it's just nailing things down.

History and historical records are kind of important to the setting, so I'm developing some different scripts that resemble existing scripts with some structural similarity but read as English. Basically, so that signs and panels depicting manuscripts can be made sense of. Less for dialogue in case the characters aren't as legible when as small as dialogue need be. There's a state style for the central kingdom where most action takes place. It will look sort of Parthian/Pahlavi/Farsi/Pashto/Dari, with isolated initial, middle, and final letter forms. There's an archaic script used to record important sacred texts, and it will take after Oirat Clear Script and Manchu script, which are written vertically. An important southern empire will use a Siddham-like script of mixed Hanzi/Sanskrit appearance as the design will be a mixture of Chinese and Mughal style. Said southern empire is troubled by a rebellious alliance using a style modelled after Nushu and Hiragana.

It's a fun project.
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Re: Advice? Discouraged by chronic pain

Postby Winterbourne » Thu Jan 17, 2013 2:20 pm

More cheerful!

I've been using the TV Paint beta for Android, sooooo much more powerful than Autodesk Sketchbook of any strain for Android.

So I roughed out a haunted vein of gold. Looked up a lot of gold crystal structure for reference, but the quartz matrix isn't clear yet and there's no set lighting scheme yet. I think the idea works overall though.

I'd probably take it to Photoshop with my Intuos4 to work it up to something more finished. My hand started to hurt with the damn tiny Thinkpad Stylus. But dayum TVP blows the Sketchbook apps right out of the water. And the Photoshop apps, and all the free painting apps.

Image

Hooray, TV Paint! Couldn't sleep last night so I did this. Time well spent.
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Re: Advice? Discouraged by chronic pain

Postby Winterbourne » Thu May 02, 2013 11:18 am

Seeing a cervical spine guy today. It's sort of exciting and a bit scary because I had to sign a waiver. My doc recommended it from personal experience relieving lifelong scoliosis, though.

It seems a promising treatment. The basic idea is that the space in the vertebrae for the spine is sort of kidney-bean shaped, and any rotation of a vertebrae will reduce the space available for the spine and major vessels, causing compression, stretching, moving out of position, etc. The top two vertebrae are the tricky ones because they're not anchored the same as the others (or we wouldn't be able to turn our heads). But they can stay stuck out of alignment. Muscles try to compensate for failures of other, less responsive muscles, and your posture goes all to hell. I need not explain posture issues to people who work at computers a lot!

I had x-rays of my head and neck done--I used the word radiopaque and this delighted the guy--and the art skills came in handy: I could find my centreline and see the rotation before he pointed it out. My posture is all skewed such that it's really uncomfortable to stand "properly". Also, one leg is shorter then the other by 3/8ths of an inch, which is not insignificant.

Call me a weirdo but I always wanted to see what my skull looked like, so that was neat. I have an MRI coming up and I'm gonna ask if I can see my brain after.

Also, I'm working on my basics of digital painting. I was looking through some paintovers and I seem to have finally broken through my brain barrier for handling brushes. At least tonally.

This is a wip that needs a bunch of corrections, but it's better than my other digital painting so far.

Image

I started with a drawing, but I'll be changing it to correct a bunch of things, as well as to include the environment and narrative elements. The woman is from my fantasy story. Her likeness isn't right yet, but it's Roya. The likeness on the boy isn't right either, and his nose is wrong. Narrative: Roya is escaping through bitter wind and beginnings of snow with a well-born boy, bloodied and wielding a cavalry sword on the back of a reindeer.
Last edited by Winterbourne on Thu May 02, 2013 1:57 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Advice? Discouraged by chronic pain

Postby Eagle » Thu May 02, 2013 11:43 am

I really hope all of this comes to something, man. :/

And that sounds like a fun story.
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Re: Advice? Discouraged by chronic pain

Postby Winterbourne » Thu May 02, 2013 11:44 pm

So, my neck is twisted! That's why "proper posture" caused me so much pain. But the treatment was interesting, and such that I gotta describe this.

Background: my cervical spine is in a slight S-curve instead of a C-curve. The doc said the twist was the result of trauma -- and I fell on my head as a kid, right on the top, one of my most vivid memories because OW. No problems with the skeleton, discs are fine, thank god. Hopefully the nagging to "sit up straight" will finally end! My spine deviates so that my head, to be level, is 4 degrees off pulling to the right (ear to shoulder) and about 2 degrees turned to the right (that shoulder is raised as well). He said this was actually a good thing and boded well -- basically, the twist was too much not to be causing problems of some kind, so fixing will probably do something.

The treatment: I lay down on a padded table, with a small amount of pressure behind my ear, with a head support so my neck was straight. Felt like nothing was happening. It was a little more pressure than required to flatten the soft part of my ear against my head for a bit. So, negligible.

Except my legs were the same length at the end (being nearly half an inch difference before) and my shoulders had dropped back--I felt muscles in my chest stretching, my ribs and collarbones resettling, the collarbones especially. My usual comfortable posture was uncomfortable, and a more normal one felt much better. It was easier to turn my head, though not the same for each side yet.

I was led to a dim room to rest -- dim but not dark, and quiet but not noiseless. I mention it because otherwise this sounds like a sensory deprivation trip.

Hand to God, no drugs involved and I wasn't asleep either.

I was in a partly reclining seat, very comfortable and kept my spine in alignment, with my legs up. I did not move except for the occasional twitch the entire time, about 15 minutes. I was warned I might feel tingling or pain. I could see light through the window to the receptionist's area, and I heard people talking and doing normal things. So I wasn't hallucinating exactly.

I started to feel weird pulsing sensations up one side of my legs and down the other, which I thought might be blood flow but there was no warmth and the pulses were faster than my heartbeat. Eventually a similar pulsing feeling occurred throughout my hands. Then my extremities felt heavier by a few pounds, after a fashion: they felt heavier, but not as though a real weight was hanging from them. The sort of "white noise" sound I sometimes get in quiet conditions got extremely strong and then faded away to normal. Then it gets weirder.

I got the under-the-soles crawly feeling I only ever get when looking at a significant drop, because I dislike heights. No other time do I get this, ever, even with things that frighten me. Then it felt like someone was gently but noticeably swinging my lower legs from side to side, like my legs were being held by the ankles and swung in a pendulous motion. This feeling grew to include my hips, rather like sitting in a swinging hammock, but there was no sense of motion of my head. Until I felt oddly like I was swinging forward and backward. Then it felt like I was leaning back and nearly upside-down, like leaning back on a swing--which, incidentally, his how I hit my head.

I got strange transient and sourceless pain in the same place in both thumbs, but not at the same time. I felt calmer (I was panicky today), almost sedated. I felt less pain--still had some, but less. My vision felt sort of weird but not impaired, like I was wearing a new prescription lens. Appetite came roaring back. Thirsty. And I'm tired enough to sleep about 4 hours earlier than usual. This was both 1., normal, and 2., exciting, according to the doctor.

My guess is that the swinging and spatial distortions were some babbling of my interoceptive sense -- the sense of your insides, like where your limbs are, for example. I felt very much like I was moving in space on the inside, while the exteroceptive senses were telling me that, no indeed, I was still in the chair, no friction, no actual movement, felt gravity, the whole deal. It is weird when they disagree... though I now have a really good sense of what my psychic-epileptic in Paper Kites must go through during a fit. And it made me sort of laugh occasionally, at which point the weird sensations would go away until I was still again.

I see him again on tuesday. I have some aches on my left side, compensatory, because my right side hurts less. My front tooth cracking spontaneously was an entirely unrelated crappy event, but might get me into the dentist sooner. But I feel overall pretty positive about today, less anxiety, but not drugged or screwed up.

Still, that inside-outside thing was weird. I kind of hope it happens again, though.
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Re: Advice? Discouraged by chronic pain

Postby Eagle » Fri May 03, 2013 12:13 am

Wow! That was a hell of a thing. o_o
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Re: Advice? Discouraged by chronic pain

Postby Winterbourne » Fri May 03, 2013 5:53 pm

I know, right! This morning the pain is less than usual so far. Tired, though slept solidly--also on my after-care sheet, "rest more than usual."

Re: story.

I hope it's enjoyable. The story begins (roughly, here in prose, but in future in graphics):

A caravan travels through the southern hinterlands of Yaghan, along an old royal road cut into the many unevenly wooded hillsides of this country. The wind drives so cold that the caravaneers have pulled fur hats down and closed flaps over their faces. It is winter, the hills have seen dry, powdery snow. The sky is flattened and grey-white, threatening more snow. They pass now through an apple forest.

The caravan is about a hundred people, on foot and riding a mix of horses and deer pulling carts and a rather plain carriage. There are no standards, no visible armour, no obvious formations, nothing to indicate this is the caravan of the shah's sons. The heavy winter clothing hides armour easily enough. All are in disguise as pilgrims, in grey trousers and short coats (knee-length). The deer-riders string out on the edges of the caravan, in a deceptive, casual walk. These are the elite specialist archers, handpicked for the corps from many regions, carrying almost nothing but themselves with their saddlebags concealing their weapons. The horses bear cavalry with swords and other weapons concealed, and pull the carts and carriage. The men on foot carry light loads, their pikes or swords concealed in separate pieces wrapped in oilcloth on their backs as if they were parts of a tent, maces in leather "satchels" as a counterbalance and in easy reach on their fronts.

This carriage houses the Shah's two sons, and two of their tutors. The arts and letters tutor is awake, the strategies and warfare tutor dead asleep. The boys sit opposite them, bored but warmer -- they do not wear the heavy coats as do the riders. They wear deep blue, the colour of bereavement. The eldest at 17, Siyaj, is reading an elaborate book from the atelier of his aunt, the First Empress of a powerful empire to the South. He has some trouble, as he is dyslexic and it is written in a script he is new to. His younger brother, Omed, is restless and reads the characters his brother indicates he is struggling with. Both the boys have cut their hair in mourning for their mother, except for their topknots as concession to their status. The tutors have shaved their beards for the same reason, and are stubbly. They have returned from delivering news and some of their mother's effects to her sister, and the First Empress gave them the book about her and her mother's lives called Two Leaves of Tiger Tea, written by the Empress herself in the women's hand, not the standard script.

Omed says he is bored. The tutor says to read, or play cards or a board game with him. Omed says he wants to ride with Apa ('big sister'). The tutor says the vazir (aide) could be anywhere along the train, and the cold is not good for his heart. Omed considers this for about 4 seconds, then stands on his seat and bangs his hand against the carriage roof. A door is opened, and a Companion (elite bodyguard) looks down. Omed asks where Apa is.

Later, Omed has gotten his way, dressed for the cold and riding on the saddle in front of the shah's most trusted aide, Humay. Humay's mount, though, is unusual: taller than a horse and bigger than a deer, he is a Great Eastern Elk, called more descriptively a wolfstag. His eyes face more forward, and his teeth are intended for meat as well as plants, and under his heavy winter coat he looks wolf-faced indeed. His most elk-like characteristic is his antlers, two prongs of which have been clad in iron. His name is Ming, and Humay lets him choose his own way forward, the reins slack. Humay's face is not covered against the cold, but her right eye is concealed by a patch. She looks somewhere in her thirties but has the type of face that is difficult to read or age, masklike. She has her cloak wrapped around herself and Omed, and it's pinned with a silver-faced pin with a foreign, spiral design. Omed's breath makes more steam than hers.

Omed asks why there are no villages here. Humay says there are, but scattered widely. When Omed asks why, Humay says their route passes through country where the Winter Visitor arrived and lingered some years before -- euphemistically referring to devastation by a pandemic a generation ago. He asks if that was when his Bab (dad) was little. Humay says yes. Omed asks why so many died here. Humay says it traveled with ranging birds much faster than the missionaries could travel with medicine. Omed asks how the people live now. Humay says they farm and hunt and have markets in small villages. Omed asks if she has been here before. Humay says many times, but not since she brought his Mama back from the South. He asked what the land is called. Mazaristan, she says. Omed looks confused: a burying-ground? Humay says there were many things sown in this land that have gone fallow, like the apple trees; it meant something different before.

Omed reaches up for a winter apple, big and streaked red and dangling low enough to grab. Humay says that one is rotten inside. Humay stretches up and takes a smaller one from a different tree. She says the young trees have unpredictable character, so it might be sweet like the trees in the garden or sour like the bambal. Omed takes an ambitious bite, chews, then squints with his face scrunched up, lopsided and asymmetrical--the "oh God sour sour!" face. His eyes watering and his face still a little scrunched, Omed says he likes it. Humay smiles. Omed tosses the first apple away, and it smashes against a rock.

The boys and their tutors are well-guarded by a handpicked company of cavalry, archers, and infantry. While attentive, they are not afraid. But as they come to an open area where the road cuts into the hillside, turning, and partly eroding down the hill, Ming stops and sniffs the air. He vocalizes, a low rumbling growl of vague alarm. Humay's expression stays neutral. Omid notices the noise. As do the deer and horses, accustomed to Ming’s signals, and they display signs of wariness. This cues their riders to reach for their weapons, not knowing why.

Humay immediately heads toward the carriage and Omid is deposited in. He asks what’s wrong, and both tutors and Siyaj look alarmed. Humay says Ming has scented something he doesn't recognize, and that she does not believe it to be mere brigands. She says to lock the door and keep knives ready. There are Companions riding on the carriage itself, and Humay says to prepare themselves. The highest ranking whistles sharply twice, a call to form up, but the archers are already moving into a less strung-along, vulnerable formation. The horses and infantry follow suit. The train stops. The men on foot drop their "tents" and assemble the pikes. The archers uncover their quivers and string their bows. The riders have long lances ready in ranks behind the assembling wall of pikemen and Companions. Humay alone is out of formation, Ming climbing the steep hill to get a better idea of what they're dealing with. She has drawn a yataghan, long and elegant, from her saddle by the time they disappear over the hill.

The ranks wait for a sign, a noise, anything. They hear a very loud, very strange shrieking howl. Not long after, Humay and Ming are forced back down the hill by a tide of enemy fighters, she hacking at them and he biting and kicking. However, they look like peasants, their weapons and armour improvised and mismatched--clubs and slings, the occasional wooden helmet or wooden cuirass, mostly nothing and they are not dressed for cold, many without shoes. Some improvised bows with primitive unfletched arrows are found in the mix, but the slings are the real problem--the sling bullets hit with significant force, breaking unprotected limbs and killing outright those struck in the face.

This route, considered safe, is now a deathtrap. Humay finds no response to injury, no confusion, and no fear. They do not signal each other, speak, or cry out. They flow around her to the pike wall and swamp them, falling to the Companions but too numerous to keep back. Another long shriek nearly spooks the horses and deer and makes the company murmur prayers.

Over the hill, crushing the enemy without concern, crawls azdahag, a dragon, eel-like and pale, head reminiscent of a leopard seal. It is forty feet long and its jaw is big enough to crush a horse's neck, but its arms are short and awkward. The archers, trying avoid hitting Humay, let fly at it. It does react to pain and rolls trying to remove the arrows in its flesh, thrashing and crushing the enemy fighters, who take no notice and continue to advance. The horsemen are pulled off their horses and finished off. Panicking animals crush their riders.

The archers break formation to harass the dragon, to draw it away from the remaining living men now back-to-back and using anything at hand. This does work, the rider's fleetness working to their advantage, though despite bristling with arrows and bleeding from each puncture, the dragon is still on the attack. It vocalizes, barking cries, and lunges, able to corner some of the archers against the hill. It does not eat anyone, but bites and flings them about. The flow of enemy seems to have stopped, as Humay and Ming free themselves from the swarm attacking them. Ming's pale fur is bloody, and so are his iron-shod antlers. He howls, getting the dragon's attention momentarily.

One of the archers, Roya, snipes it, emptying her quiver into its body. It turns on her, and she draws her short sword and knows she is too close to run. Her deer attempts it anyway, but has only so many last minute leaps in it. The dragon catches the deer mid-leap, just missing Roya's feet, its momentum driving them on. Roya, her feet out of the stirrups, is losing grip. In a desperation move, she lets go and falls on the dragon's head, its mouth momentarily occupied, and plunges her sword into its eye before she is flung off. She lands hard and rolls down the hill, unconscious and ignored for a few minutes, while the beast screams and thrashes. When she comes to, she sees the carriage is overturned and broken open. The tutors are trying to defend Omed, but both are outnumbered by men with clubs. They tell him to run, but they are surrounded.

Roya, still woozy, calls to a horse dragging a dead cavalryman. She recognizes the man, freeing his foot from the stirrup, and takes the mace hanging from his wrist. She mounts the horse and charges the mob attacking the tutors, swinging the mace and nearly unhorsing herself: it is not her kind of weapon. She cannot save the tutors, and gets herself noticed, but finds Omed alive under their bodies. She gets him in the saddle ahead of her, surveying the scene--the wounded are put to death by the enemy where they are noticed, Siyaj is nowhere to be seen and Humay and Ming are goading the dragon into snapping attacks that are easily dodged but waste its energy, slowly climbing the hill. The dragon hesitates, then snaps at Humay instead of at Ming's legs. Humay dodges but it has her by the arm. She hacks at it, as it drags her up over the hill and the into the wood.

Omed sees this as well, and says he doesn't see his brother. Roya, recognizing the day is lost, throws her arm around him and flees the battlefield. Her coat is fortunately able to stop a parting shot before it gets too deep and she pulls it out. Omed protests, wanting to try to help them, but Roya ignores him. He knows it is impossible and ceases to argue, tucking her cloak around himself. His eyes run for reasons other than the bitter wind and snow they ride into, as they hear the dragon and Ming both receding behind them. Ming howls, a sad call seeking response, but this stops.

That would be up to where this picture is. I'll avoid giant posts like this in future. ;)
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Re: Advice? Discouraged by chronic pain

Postby Winterbourne » Sat May 04, 2013 7:38 pm

Updated the image and fixed some facial details. Clickez to embiggen.

Image

Now to fix the rest of it... another time, gah, my back.
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Re: Advice? Discouraged by chronic pain

Postby Winterbourne » Mon May 13, 2013 1:18 am

Redesigned the armour but it's only roughly blocked in. This is a design conceit, the armour in the story is concealed by the winter coat.

Image

I redesigned the armour to be more inline with the char-aina style. Before the archers had something more like the Kofun-era iron cuirass.

This this is a more recent Russian style with all the padding shown:

Image

Here's a bitchin' Persian char-aina ("4-mirror") that's gilded steel. It's covered in calligraphy and floral embellishment. Too fancy for my purposes, but it brings the pretty.

If you're a male Persian warrior and you're not wearing something with flowers on it, turn in your man card. Manly men like flowers, goddammit. Unadorned bronze and linen is for chumps, Greco-Romans, and poor people!

Image

Probably this was actually worn to court. Just like this gorgeous thing was probably never wielded, a gilded steel yataghan from the court of Suleyman the Magnificent of Turkey:

Image
ImageImage

Pearl ornament in walrus ivory handle, ruby bezel on the other side, 24 inches of too-nice-to-use craftsmanship.

Image

Oh, you have a gold-plated revolver? No one is impressed even a little! (Actually, guns from this period are pimped the hell out as well.)

Also, I did this yesterday. Today has sucked for pain.
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Re: Advice? Discouraged by chronic pain

Postby Winterbourne » Tue May 21, 2013 9:45 pm

I had an MRI of my brain this evening! My stupid myoclonus started up in my legs but before was in my eyelids so hopefully the scan wasn't blurred. Also, holy crap loud, evem through earplugs. Had weird sensations but I think it has more to do with having to lie perfectly still and the neck treatment result in nervous system babbling.

I'm not sure if I want them to find something, in which case I have a screw up in my brain, or not find anything, in which case it's in some other system. I get to wait 2 weeks to find out!

Also, upper cervical adjustment has been having crazy dramatic effects. I can stand straight comfortably and suddenly my medications are making me feel different from usual and I'm having to adjust them. I wake up with a different body every day. I have had about 6 treatments.

Also, crazy back spasms (see posture changes) are way easier to deal with when you have about a milligram and a half of clonazepam in you--which is way stronger in effects now, I used to shrug that off with a bit of coordination hiccups. I spent voting day in bed "riding the c-train", though if I moved at all it hurt and standing in line to vote was not gonna happen.

I feel woozy. But I drew this facial design for Roya a few days ago. I like how it turned out. Fun fact: slightly projecting teeth as a facial feature is more than slightly difficult to portray. Also, I did this in Sai if anyone finds that relevant.

Image
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Re: Advice? Discouraged by chronic pain

Postby HYst00 » Tue Dec 12, 2017 12:15 am

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