Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Buhahaha
A little better now, just got Adobe On Location installed on my laptop, great video capture software. Again, time to get off my butt and create something. Think I will be interrupted by Mardi Gras weekend though. :-)
Monday, February 13, 2012
Upgrade
Finally upgraded the production box. Renamed it Studio 9. This is because in the first screen play I wrote, IMAGINING, I left out scene 9 by accident. Since then, everything I write I leave out scene or chapter 9 on purpose.
Any way, it now has an i5 processor and 8gig of RAM (soon to be 16). This should be a great box for my CS4 stuff. Now to get motivated and CREATE something!
Any way, it now has an i5 processor and 8gig of RAM (soon to be 16). This should be a great box for my CS4 stuff. Now to get motivated and CREATE something!
{Production computer Desktop}
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Thrift Store
Well got a fully functional EPSON 3490 Scanner today for $6! Best part is it does negatives and the holder and all cords were included. Now I can get to some of my old pictures. It blows away my HP as far as quality goes!
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Ruebin III
A vague shape came from the gloom. It was some sort of heavy canvas bag. The rope was now very wet from the frothing waves and slipped a little with each tug.
Ruebin stopped. The slimy rope dropped and inch away, but he was sure he had heard something. While leaning over the rail, he looked up and down the pier. To the ocean side he only saw a faint glow of the last light and a black rail before nothingness. To the shore side, darkness. The bag thumped a reminder on the piling. Ruebin resumed his labor.
With one last heave the bag cleared the railing and clattered to the decking with a solid metallic thump. Again, Ruebin scanned the empty darkness of the pier and saw nothing or no one. He looked to the bag and rolled it over. It was black canvas. No markings, no labels. It looked vaguely military. A drawstring held the top tightly cinched. Ruebin untied the expert knot, and slowly pulled the bag open.
Ruebin stopped. The slimy rope dropped and inch away, but he was sure he had heard something. While leaning over the rail, he looked up and down the pier. To the ocean side he only saw a faint glow of the last light and a black rail before nothingness. To the shore side, darkness. The bag thumped a reminder on the piling. Ruebin resumed his labor.
With one last heave the bag cleared the railing and clattered to the decking with a solid metallic thump. Again, Ruebin scanned the empty darkness of the pier and saw nothing or no one. He looked to the bag and rolled it over. It was black canvas. No markings, no labels. It looked vaguely military. A drawstring held the top tightly cinched. Ruebin untied the expert knot, and slowly pulled the bag open.
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