New/Old Signal Detected

Something I'm working on. More on this in a minute.

Truth be told, I remember very little of 2013 through 2017. Some parts of it blaze bright in my memory's eye, but as I look through my last series of posts I feel like I'm looking at someone else's life. There's a sense of alarm now, like I've misplaced house keys. The root of this confusion is chronic physical pain from a work accident, and a sluice of medications that helped me get through each day.

I have survived. I'm back to work for over a year now, restored to the point where I can function and contribute to my family's well-being. Moving forward, it's not merely enough to survive. I am back to looking for that struggle for purpose that drives us all.

I make stuff. I don't know if you can call it art. I used to do that. You can trace the chimeric history of this blog and see there was a point where I used to do Art with a capital A. Fine art for art galleries that people could buy and hang on their walls. There were realities associated with that as a career that I was not really equipped to handle, then or now. I'm not sure I was ever really wired for that life.

So now the lion's share of my day goes to working at a job that pays (some?) of the bills, raising kids, and being a husband. There are particles of free time that fall through these various nets. 15 minutes here or there, an hour after the kids go to bed, or blissful Saturday mornings, where I get to reconnect with the core of my being and make things.

None of this is new. Writing about my adventures was an old thing. Trying to be honest with myself, accountable. Sometimes lying to myself. I think it's all been done. I keep forgetting though. So right now this is new! Join me for what comes. Or don't.

I'm better now. Self-actualized, which is a term I made up and will happily apply to myself on good days. I want to be even better than this though.

Project update.... Well, right now there's too much to sift. It's a moving stream. I lack the aptitude to lay it all out at this time. Maybe later I'll do a retrospective to get us all caught up. This project is new. Or sort of old when you get down to the foundation. It's a model based off my buddy's model. We can be cool and call them sculptures. It's just a label.

Here:

Lower half so far

Two lower halves meet up for a walk

Let's Take A Look

I'm taking a few days off from titan-building, so lack0fbettername (my arch-nemesis) asked me to post some pics of the whole emperor titan assembled. Seems like a good opportunity to get feedback before jumping into the next phase.

Be advised, there are many parts unpainted, or painted in schemes that clash with the Legio Mortis colors.

One leg painted. One leg not. Still lots of parts all over that could use some revision.

Door-to-door salesmen beware my wrath.

I've noticed here and there some bits and pieces have broken off. Just little stuff, like a couple missiles from a tower launcher.

Here you see my two oldest spawn posing together. That wink says it all: "DEATH TO THE FALSE EMPEROR!"

One Ugly Mug

Today was nice. The weather's hot, but I managed to get a good start on painting the emperor titan's head. In years past, I've had problems using acrylic paints outdoors. I learned that adding matte medium and a bit more water keeps the paint smooth long enough to work it around on the model's surface.

The kids went to visit their grandparents today, so I had the porch to myself. At first I wasn't feeling motivated to paint the titan. I've been pushing along at a rapid pace, and burnout is no surprise to any of us in the hobby.

After some procrastination, I got started on the base colors for the head.

Legio Mortis scheme. Sloppy here, but will get tighter as things progress. I focused on the right side of the head today, thus nothing to really show you on the left.

I'm happy with the progress, though feeling I could use a few days off from titan work.

Launch of the Toothship S.S. Deekai

It's been a busy week taking care of the kiddies, and a semblance of upkeep chores around the house. I managed to catch some work on the emperor titan in fits and starts. Usually out on the front porch so I can make a big mess. Most of that time was spent contemplating the next move, staring deep into the titan's cavernous maw. There are some nervous looks from passersby as I sit face-to-face with this thing.

So, the Corvus Assault Head--how to proceed? On paper the ramp was straightforward. I wanted to cram lots of teeth and nurglings in there.

I hit some literal snags with this plan. Digging out a straight tunnel through the pink insulation foam was tough. The strata contained layers of liquid nails, wire, toothpicks, and pvc pipe. I needed to push through all that without weakening or damaging the torso.

 Making it so that the assault ramp slid evenly was more about feel than sight. Add more bemused stares from passersby as I'm now vigorously thrusting a suspicious object in and out of the titan's mouth with a look of deep concentration.

The teeth were the most durable bits, and the hot glue held up pretty well. The nurglings, however, did not. After suffering a few broken horns and claws, I decided to settle on just a few passengers.

The green-stuffing was my favorite part. I just kept to the areas between the outermost teeth as the sculpting boundaries, so the green stuff won't rub on anything. 

Don't forget to floss, kids.

  

Journey

More work on the emperor titan's head this week.

This part has been a source of much frustration for a while now. I built it to be modular, for ease of transport and storage. The head/torso chunk is the heaviest and largest module. It is difficult to get into a position where I'm comfortable working on it for extended periods of time.

Sometimes it feels like wrestling a monstrous peanut.
 

The core of that issue wasn't really a question of ergonomics. It was more about project burnout, and the real-life difficulties we all face. In short, I wasn't having fun.

 I'm happy to feel enthusiasm for this work again. That scratch-builder's block is gone. I want to finish this thing. Not just for the end result, but for the journey.

Anyway, I've done some head and torso work. The most important thing I hit on was adding armor like the Forgeworld titans, to cover and replace the ramshackle armor shingles from before.

I'm getting supplies today. Sculpting epoxy coming in the mail, and maybe a stop by the hobby shop to pick up some styrene strips and rods for detail work.

Fight or Fright: The Musical

These post titles make no sense. For some reason this is the hardest place to talk about what I'm working on. Since the new work (as of 2016) on the titan project, I've made a point to  cross-post here, Warseer, and the Heresy 30K forums.

Warseer is where this project started, and I was surprised when I saw the date of the first post, 7-22-2009. That feels like a lifetime ago.

So yeah, it all started on the Warseer project logs. It was a great community, and I was sad to watch myself fall away. Since the new work, I'm surprised that some of the old guard are still there, quick to offer feedback. Strangers Friends I will likely never meet in person, scattered throughout the world. Such a strange feeling.

I have also included the Heresy 30K forum in my triad of cross-posting sites. These are guys that play a different game, and the community there is a strange beast. It's a closed forum, as in you can't even see the posts without registering an account. I don't really understand that.

The Heresy 30K community is a tight-nit and very supportive crowd, drawn together by their love of a cool story, balanced game, and amazing miniatures. The whole lot of them are so pumped up. I love their energy.

These cross-posts are taking on a life of their own. The pictures I post are the same in all three places, but the language I use is becoming specific to each community.

I post here for myself. I need a place to reflect on all this. It's a neutral locale for what I hope is honesty.

Indescribable Adjectives of Nountown

Painting progress on the plasma annihilator is coming along.

My world has changed so much since the start of this project. I have kids. Responsibilities. Adult things. So much time has passed since then and now, I feel like I'm collaborating with a ghost. An echo of the past.

Who am I building this for? The game, Warhammer 40k, has gone through several iterations. Our gaming clubs have waxed and waned like the tides. People move away, grow up, change. The Internet community feels like it's changed as well. Maybe less cohesive? Still as indignant, indulgent, and insulated though. Like any other interest group, I would think.

I may be building this just for myself. To fulfill my end of a bargain against an implacable adversary. And as a courtesy to those who have provided support and encouragement through the years.

My life has been molded into such a strange state. Through triumphs and (literally) crippling trials, something new emerged. Maybe hope? It pushes forward, one small step at a time. I, drowning, grab that line and hold on for dear sweet life. 

Thank you, for being what you are. I hang on because you hang on. Though I've thrown in the towel many times, you stand your ground. Push or pull me up again. One. Step. Two. Step. Thr---

Swervingly Bellicose Ruminations

Today I had some anxiety issues early on. The new meds my psychiatrist prescribed seem to work, but are taking too long to kick in. Regardless: Spray paint. Plasma Annihilator. Seems okay.

This morning I scored some door panels that the neighbor had left out for the garbage men.
 

Door panels are awesome. I've got FOUR of them, all with the same dimensions, which is rare.

I'm done talking about door panels. You've earned a reprieve. No more door talk for now.

Doors.

Doorsdoorsdoors.

Meanwhile & Wean-Mile

My days are foggy. Sleepwalking through to lunch. Glaring into the fridge, the microwave. A furtive glance at the coffee pot. Is it time for afternoon coffee yet?

The kids go quiet every few minutes. My parental gland twitches and I look over to make sure everyone's still breathing. Usually there's a squawk, a staccato drumming of little feet on linoleum, the plaintive wail of a wronged party. Something to sort out. A snap judgement. Weak alibis all around. Wronged parties. More squawking a moment later.   

By instinct I feel for my phone. It must always be in reach. We are not the savages of bygone days. Where is it? Stomping with efficient indignation from room to room. Find the phone. Where? Why?

My meals are often the leavings from the kids' plates. Maybe a chicken nugget. Mac and cheese. Some strange fruit compound. I am the family dog. When nobody's looking I go to my secret stash and eat something chocolate. 

I love our church. I sing. I just close my eyes and sing and all the problems and pain go away.

Woof.

Stylin'

It's funny what happens when you clean. Tonight I found my digital drawing tablet AND stylus. So just like the good old times I sketched up a quick doodle and decided to write a blog post. How lucky!

I end now though, because the muted murmur of the electronic garage door under my feet has alerted me to my family's arrival.

Things are looking up. Take care.

Snow-Day for Volksgrenadiers

It's been snowing all day today, and we've had to cancel our plans. It's ironic that my friend, Jake, and I were supposed to recreate the wintry Battle for Bastogne via a game of Flames of War,  which took place in similar weather conditions. So amateur historians take note: Bastogne has been postponed on account of snow! So what else to do but to sit by the window and reminisce? I stayed up late last night repainting my volksgrenadiers for our game. These were the first 15mm scale models I had ever purchased, so I've been feeling pretty nostalgic while reworking them.

I got into Flames of War in 2007. I had finished grad school the year before and had been struggling with work. Having been laid-off my job, and currently working as a temp (grading proficiency tests for public schools if you were curious), I wasn't exactly happy with the direction my life was going. In general it was good though. I had gotten married to the girl-of-my-dreams, and all that. We lived in an awesome townhouse in Grandview. Great friends. Furry cat. Things were: moderately good.

Man, oh man. Most of the guys in the front 2/3's of this pic are from the Old Glory - Command Decision line. Amazingly cheap miniatures, and lots of good detail on their backpacks and stuff like that. Love these little guys. My first WW2 models ever.

So this crappy temp job happened to be right next to Hobbyland, and I'd sneak over there during my lunch break to kill time. Historical models in general had been kind of boring to me, but Flames of War was a game that combined models with actual rules where you could recreate historically accurate battles. It got my attention. And then I saw the cost-prohibitive price of this game, and the models you needed to play it. Ouch. Nevermind.

I'd walk out of that store feeling bruised and financially estranged. The guy at the counter would shrug and say, "yep, this hobby is expensive. Golf is expensive too. Blah, blah, blah." then his head exploded, or something. (now is a good time to note I'm writing this post on strong pain medication. Reader beware!)

This is a sturm platoon from Battlefront's line that came out last year. Very good sculpts. They mix in "okay" with the Old Glory models. I wouldn't mix figures from both manufacturers on the same bases since the proportions are a bit different. 

Lacking stable income, I couldn't afford this hobby. My friend Allen was nice enough to turn me on to other "cheaper" model manufacturers at this time. He pointed out Old Glory - Command Decision via an online store called www.warweb.com. I was skeptical of this website. Despite featuring thousands of products from various manufacturers they had no pictures of anything! What decade was this? Regardless of this, I had a good feeling and ordered from them. For about half the cost of name-brand Flames of War models, I could still play the game.

It was a two or three week wait for them to cast-up my order and send it out. It seems crazy in our "have it now" culture that I was ordering stuff that I had never seen beforehand, and then supposed to wait for weeks. In hindsight this would be my first steps down the Dark Path of the Old Fogey...

My package arrived and I had my work cut out for me. Assembling and painting an army of little 15mm soldiers for the first time was daunting. As an Old Fogey hobby, there really was no accessible tutorial in 2007 on how to put any of this stuff together. I looked around the internet for direction, usually to no avail. 

The mystery of it continued to pester me, so I kept digging around. Finally, I figured out what I needed to do: how to correctly assemble equipment, how to paint historically accurate colors, and how to use the miniatures to play the game. (finding the rules: tricky! finding other people to play: even more tricky!)

Now it is January 2014, seven years later and I'm still into this hobby pretty heavy. It's a social game that gets you out with other people, it's a brilliant craft that teaches patience and technical skill, and it's great for learning about history. And I guess I'm kind of into it for the long haul.

I still appreciate the old off-brand models that got me started, even though I mostly buy the upper-end Flames of War stuff now. But a little shout-out to the "other guys" for getting me started. Thanks!

The Volksgrenadier Company with Schutzen Platoons 1 & 2 (OG) on the left & center, and Sturm Platoon (BF) on the right.

Grenadiers with Assault Rifles

I was having a rough day today. Had to leave work early due to an exacerbated hip injury, and spent the afternoon and evening in a medicated haze trying to manage the pain. My wife, my absolutely amazing partner in all things, once again jumped in to take care of me and the kids all day. She took our daughter to the doctor this morning because she was complaining of an ear ache. It turns out she has an ear infection. It's just been one thing after another in recent weeks, and I marvel at how we all manage to hang in there. The simple answer is lots of prayer, and just knowing Jesus is taking care of us.

Well anyway,

We're living in that transitional period between the house we're renting, and the new house we are about to inhabit. My modeling projects all got packed up and moved to the new place. I won't really have access to them until this weekend. With nothing "hands-on" to stimulate that art-hobby part of my brain I've been on edge these past few days. And even in my current heavily-medicated state I can't shake that drive to paint and make something.

I ended up hobbling into the office/studio at some point today, digging through the handful of small boxes that haven't been packed up yet. And Behold, I found a platoon of Flames of War Germans with assault rifles that I had never painted. These guys were like a life-line! Time to get to work!

Germans armed with STG-44 assault rifles ready to advance.

This platoon was put together using figures from the Begleit Assault Platoon (GE738) and a couple other random guys.

I haven't decided what to use these models for yet, but they will see a game soon.

Thanks to my wife for always supporting me in all her countless ways. 

Sluggy

My alarm clock for the past two weeks has been little feet kicking the wall: thump thump thump -- Daddywakeupwakeupwakeup! That's the cue to start the day, and it is ignored at my own peril.

I am a slug this week; doing what slugs do. There are perpetual messes around the house. I ignore those at my own peril as well. Some are easier to ignore than others.

I am thankful for our new son. He is suspiciously normal. Almost too normal. He doesn't cry really at all. Just kinda grunts with an air of dissatisfaction when there is a problem. Happy just to eat and poop and sleep. I love him.

Sluggishness doesn't make for compelling discussion. I'll jazz it up by pointing out something neat:

Parenting is totally awesome. 

That's all.

Normalizer

 After a long walking discussion it was decided to bring back this blog. I need to start writing again. I need an outlet. Something cathartic. So. Here we are, unapologetically, boldly, back-to-normal. But I'm going to be rusty for a while until I get the hang of this. Or permanently rusty. Something. 

I'm not political really. And certainly not up on Current Events. Sometimes I have a certain level of ignorant pride in not watching TV or reading the newspaper. So I asked E what was going on in the world these days. 

"Syria," she remarked.

"Oh yeah. They're fighting still? Wars these days seem to burn themselves out in a week or turn into a long occupation, like Afghanistan, right?"

"I think this one's different. They are two different groups of Muslims in this civil war, and it's been going on for over a year now."

"Wow."

"Yeah, a lot of people are dying."

The conversation was interrupted by a prolonged contraction. She goes quiet and closes her eyes. Never stops walking, but just pulls inward for a minute or so. I dutifully helplessly push the stroller alongside her in the interim. Remark on the perfect weather. Or marvel at the back of little A's head as she watches something with interest.

Marvel that I woke up today not feeling physically ill. Throat was a bit raw, but I didn't need to take anything but antibiotics. I've missed more days of work then I care to count. Almost perpetual illness. But. Not. Today. thank God

When the contraction subsides we walk along, trying idly to pick up some strand of the conversation. Though not up on Current Events, I have been devouring Current History, so I volunteer the following:

"You know Syria and Egypt once launched a huge two-pronged attack on Israel?"

"The Six Day War?"

"Yeah! Some of the biggest tank battles to take place with 'Cold War'-era weaponry!"

It is true that I have become semi-obsessed with war history logistics and force organization charts. I'm terrible at statistics, but for whatever reason have been drawn more and more to this type of thing. She lets me chatter on a few more minutes about Syrian tank specifications and infrared targeting systems. 

There's probably a conclusion here somewhere. Were I in a less rusty mood I'd weave all the talking points of this story together into a compelling end. And maybe that's happening now. My thoughts are adrift in a sea of burning T-55 tanks on the Golan Heights, the crunch of gravel underfoot as the stroller bounces along, and a future that is both awash in possibility and obscured from us. And the next contraction sets in and my thoughts immediately turn to my wife. 

And around and around it goes.