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About Kinetic
- Birthday 06/29/1988
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http://kinetica.deviantart.com
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Maybe Another Time
Profile Information
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Biography
Born. . .living and going to school
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Occupation
Still looking. . .
Kinetic's Achievements
Senior Otaku (4/6)
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It's been a while since I tried doing Abstract Expressionism in Photoshop, but I'm trying my hand at it once more. I created an image using the color orange, a pretty neutral color, giving off a weird, yet comfortable feeling. In this image I used many abstract designs but with small use of the smudge tool, made them kind of edgy, but in a smooth way. I was trying to put the viewer in a psychadelic mood, and hopefully I've completed my task in a successful way. I got a few comments, mostly stating that I needed a focal point, and I was weary of submitting the image in the first place because of the same reason. But with some tweaking and adding a little more contrast, I think I've created much more movement and rhythm in the image. Please share your thoughts. [url="http://www.deviantart.com/view/11840239/"]http://www.deviantart.com/view/11840239/[/url]
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This is pretty good. Before I left, I never saw any good 3D work besides that of Psychotik's. It's all around a little faded, and I'd like to see it in a larger size, but I like the idea behind it. The color scheme is a bit off, but with a bit more tweaking (and some dodging in the grey technical areas would be cool), it would be alot better. Learn a little bit more about the composition of it all, and you will go far in the graphic community.
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[b]Name:[/b] Bob. . .agorn. Yeah, Bobagorn. [b]Character:[/b] Chef [b]Gender:[/b] Hermaphrodite. And by hermaphrodite I mean male. [b]Facts:[/b] Likes to mess with the Warrior and say that he is the bravest hero of the heroes (which he is, hardy har), and causes mischief with all of the other heroes. To battle evil, he uses his nifty kitchen utensils and food. Things like his spaghetti lasso of truth and his laser crutons. The chef is obviously the leader of the group, or so the warrior likes to think.
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Hours earlier, Chris was cowering on the side of a storage facility, being tracked by an instrumentalist. Alerted, she crept around the corner and he disappeared behind a fence. "Coward," she scoffed, walking back to her mech. Chris was now safe, he assumed, running back toward his mecha, Jim. As it was about noon, he had to be careful so that he wasn't spotted. Across the street, the warehouse was placed, a small hole in the rusty, metallic door. He looked around the corner. Obviously, as the area was abandoned, noone was there. Still, he bolted across the road, diving through the hole. Maybe it was his sense of adventure that drove him to do it, but he cut his side. Hopefully, he wouldn't get tetnis from the rust on the metal. And there kneeled Euphoria. The mecha in which Chris found freedom. Freedom from his family life, freedom from his troubles. The structure was marvelous. Pale green and orange, slender with an inspiring hull (check attatchment). Chris made a good choice when he decided to steal this one. Whatever happened to the pilot, he might never know, but Chris had to get away. Walking past, he laughed at the name on the side of it. The old name, Insidious, had been slightly painted over to be replaced with Euphoria. Chris had a sense of humor about these things. He stood next to the foot of Euphoria and typed a code into a panel blended in with the armor. A rope with a handle at the end dropped down to Chris' position and the cockpit opened. Chris rode up, falling in off of the rope. The side doors closed, followed by the front, closing upwards. Chris' mecha, unlike most, had no seat, except for the passenger. A circular pattern formed on the ceiling. One by one, each part of the patter retracted, a beam of light coming from the hole. Telepathically, Chris would control his mecha, in a way similar to virtual reality. These types of mechas weren't uncommon, but most people preferred control panels. "It feels great to be here again. I haven't been able to pilot a mecha on Eart for a while now," Chris grinned. A circle of holographic screens appeared around him, showing him what was happening around him. Chris took off through a hole in the ceiling. With the warehouse being so revealing, it's amazing that the government hadn't confiscated his mecha, seeing as it was stolen. Chris took off through the sky, looking for the battle. Although he wasn't exactly sure what was going on, he knew the sound of a mecha battle, as everyone did, and saw a window of opportunity. Looking around with excitement on his face, Chris saw a mecha near the temple. "Oh, so today's the day when the chosen ones decide which Prelude they'll take," he thought. "But why in hell are they fighting," he said aloud. As he spoke, an instrumentalist appeared on the screen. "Ah, damn sourpusses are at it again." He sped up towards the direction of the battle, but another mecha appeared in front of him, hindering his advancement. "An Instrumentalist?"
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Having sat there for nearly half an hour, Chris decided that this day would be wasted if he didn't leave. He wasn't much for social interaction with people he considered lower than himself, which is pretty much anyone that's not a singer. He decided to go around the park, rather than braving the horrendous terrain once more. Chris wasn't much for tedious problems. He'd rather take the long route than catch another shoe in the mud. He had nothing better to do, as it is, so he would just explore the streets on the way back to the warehouse where his mecha was stored. His mecha, Euphoria, never said much, but whenever he responded, it was elegant, just like Chris' former self. When Chris thought of his mecha, it reminded him of his past days, the days when he was in his prime. And when he thought of that, it led him to his mother. It seemed as though he would never recover from her death. He was nearing the warehouse and ran into a sprint down the street. He was in the district where the old warehouses were, and he began to lose his stamina, so he slowed down to a walk. A hum came from Chris' mouth, as he walked down the street. He was trying desperately to get his mother off of his mind, so he recited some songs from memory. A seperate hum could be heard elsewhere though, and it startled Chris. The sound resonated from a warehouse and he crept closer. The vibrations of the metallic casing on the structure felt eerie as he pressed up against it to figure out what was going on. ". . .like a swan glides through the clouds," he heard. It was a deep voice, a mechanical voice. Chris' eyes opened wide. Obviously, the voice was that of a mecha's. Distantly, he heard a soft voice, a female's voice, responding to the mecha. "Its owner. Another singer?" Chris wondered. "But maybe it's an instrumentalist," he thought. If it were, and she was aware of his presence, he would surely be killed, as his mecha was in another area. "I'd better leave," he said to himself, quietly. "What was that, Ryuu?" the famale's voice said, as she looked over at the enormous sliding door of the warehouse. Hearing this, Chris darted out of sight. The rattling of the door sliding into the roof shook the ground, and the female stepped outside. Only around the corner, Chris sat motionless, trying not to make a sound. After looking around the area, she went back inside, but left the door open so that she could catch any intruders. Chris waited for the door to rattle back down, and he wouldn't leave until then. In for a long wait, he laid against a metallic trash bin. He'd just have to tough it out.
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[font=Arial][size=1][color=black][i]"The only thing that matters now We offspring pay the price They can only hope That we can catch the light And cast a bright wave of might We must pay for their fight But we do not have the right To walk the streets at night And at the sight of a tight aurora We build a new euphoria A lone child starts an aria Showing what we're not weary of[/i][/color][/size][/font] [color=black][font=Arial][size=1][i]But now we keep our eyes peeled As we replant the fields and forests"[/i][/size][/font][/color] [font=Arial][size=1][/size][/font] [font=Arial][size=1]Chris sang as a tear ran down his cheek. The last generation, the generation that gave life to himself and took life from the planet, the generation that caused all of this chaos. They had ruined the planet, and now Chris's generation pays for the damage and tries to rebuild.[/size][/font] [font=Arial][size=1][/size][/font] [font=Arial][size=1]Chris finished his song, looking up from the microphone. The few people in the crowd applauded quietyly, but most people were drawn to the fight across the club. Apparently, a woman with a guitar had overpowered a man harrassing her. A humorous story, but Chris wasn't interested. He fell from the stage, apathetically. Life was such a waste nowadays, he didn't even put effort into walking. Slumping off, Chris exited the club, walking in no particular direction.[/size][/font] [font=Arial][size=1][/size][/font] [font=Arial][size=1]His uncle was on the mind. He felt horrible for just abandoning him, especially after all he had done for Chris. His uncle wasn't really desperate for the help, but Chris didn't even get a chance to say goodbye. It was over though, no returning now. His mecha, hidden in an abandoned warehouse, was rarely used, so that he wouldn't cause suspicion. There were instances, however, when Chris picked the wrong fight and needed it to get out of a tough situation.[/size][/font] [font=Arial][size=1][/size][/font] [font=Arial][size=1]It was about 8:45, and Chris hadn't had any sleep. Walking down the street, cars passing by honked their horns for him being in the way. It was only a matter of time until he crossed the wrong person and was run over. [/size][/font] [font=Arial][size=1][/size][/font] [font=Arial][size=1]Seeing a crowd across the park, Chris decided to see what the festivities were. Today had been a bore as it is, so any excitement was welcome. [/size][/font] [font=Arial][size=1][/size][/font] [font=Arial][size=1]Full stop. Time to clear things up. [/size][/font] [font=Arial][size=1][/size][/font] [font=Arial][size=1]Chris isn't usually so apathetic and depressed. It's just that, lately, his mother's death was overwhelming him. Having kept it all pent up inside, it finally came out about a week ago and he's been a mess ever since. Chris is usually pretty laidback, but ready for action and elegant in his decisions. He never made a move without thinking it over, playing life like a game of chess. Weighing his options, analyzing each path, Chris rarely made the wrong choice. However, when under pressure, he can react quickly, but in a rash way. [/size][/font] [font=Arial][size=1][/size][/font] [font=Arial][size=1]Chris was halfway through the park, the morning dew still covering the grass. He circled the pond, kicking dirt around to scare the geese and ducks. He got a kick out of that. That grass needed to be cut, however. "It's a damn jungle in here, doesn't anyone care for their landscaping anymore," he groaned. He kept walking, but stepped in a puddle of mud, nearly losing his shoe. "Sonuvabitch," he reacted, jerking his leg. [/size][/font] [font=Arial][size=1][/size][/font] [font=Arial][size=1]He finally exited the park, seeing the crowd. "Juveniles," he scoffed, being only 17 himself. He was slightly anxious to see what all the fuss was about, but he didn't expect it to be such an extraordinary ordeal.[/size][/font] [font=Arial][size=1][/size][/font][color=black] [font=Arial] [size=1][/size][/font] [/color][font=Arial][size=1][color=black][/color][/size][/font]
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[size=1][color=black][b]Name:[/b] Chris [/color][/size] [size=1] [color=black][b]Age:[/b] 17[/color] [size=1][/size] [color=black][b]Organization:[/b] Singer[/color] [color=black][b]Personality:[/b] Chris is a very laidback person. Once wealthy, he's always been very classy, but not as stuck-up as some. Chris can freak out about a situation depending on how bad it is, but once the adrenaline kicks in, he won't say a word, but just get the job done. He becomes determined and will try to be victorious, but usually fails. When he doesn't succeed, Chris won't blow up, but keep quiet and stay ashamed. When casually hanging out, Chris will just have fun with you, but once it's time to fight, the games are over. [/color] [color=black][b]Mecha:[/b] See attatchment. [/color] [color=black]Surprisingly, instead of an Overture, Chris's mecha sings with Aria. Due to his past in a wealthy family, Chris tends to be very classy in his actions. [b]Mecha Weapons:[/b] [/color] [color=black][u]Main offensive:[/u] The ability to shoot orbs of light from its palms[/color] [color=black][u]Main defensive:[/u] The ability to propel itself with a beam of light to escape an attack[/color] [color=black][u]Secondary weapon:[/u] A gun that comes from the left palm of the mecha, firing streaks of light[/color] [color=black] [b]Bio:[/b] Chris was born into a wealthy family. Feeling as though life was missing adventure, he ran away at 14, living in the houses of random friends. Eventually, he got a job repairing damaged mechas for singers and lived in the shop his uncle owned. For two years, he repaired countless mechas, and at times, got to ride with the pilots as a gift. Still, his sense of adventure hadn't been fulfilled. One dreadful morning, Chris's uncle walked into the shop with a letter in his hand. His father had sent it. Back home, his mother had died of cancer, caused by fumes from a nearby power plant. As Chris read the letter, a tear streamed down into his mouth. He'll never forget that moment or the salty taste of the tear. His uncle expected Chris to break down, but he just stayed quiet. He sat in his chair, stared down as the table, and let the tears drip from his face. The puddle formed was too large, causing a little stream to drip down onto his shoe. Chris's uncle exited quietly, leaving the mecha hangar unattended. That night, Chris stowed away in one of the repaired mechas. As the pilot set the mode to cruise and drifted off into sleep, Chris knocked him out and put him in the storage closet behind the cockpit. All the times repairing mechas and riding with the pilots had taught Chris how to operate them slightly. Chris headed straight for the nuclear plant, a plant owned by politicians, creating nuclear weapons to battle off singers, that caused the death of his mother. He proceeded in blowing up the factory, but felt no compensation for his mother's departure from this chaotic world. At that moment, Chris decided to become a singer. Not born into the position, he was highly looked down upon, but he was determined to get his revenge. Since then, Chris has flown solo with the stolen mecha, after he disposed of the pilot. [b]Character: [/b][img]http://otakuboards.com/attachment.php?attachmentid=19121[/img][/color][/size]
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This was really one of the simplest pieces I've done. Alot of using the selection tool and filling it in. Really, alot of different techniques were used. On the ID, however, it was layering and blending, like you said. Glad you like :)
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That's weird. It works for me. I'll use the deviantART link instead. [url="http://www.deviantart.com/view/7110062/"]http://www.deviantart.com/view/7110062/[/url] (the wallpaper) [url="http://www.deviantart.com/view/7110102/"]http://www.deviantart.com/view/7110102/[/url] (the ID)
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My opinions have been stated over and over again in this thread. I love Nirvana. Simple fact. I love the composition in almost every song I hear from them. I love the guitars, the drums, everything. Although most people here complain about his voice, I love it. Most say Cobain has no true vocal talent, but I know that I and millions of other people couldn't sing like that. I love the way it sounds. Someone (I think Shinmaru) said that you should be able to understand the lyrics after a few listens, but I can understand their lyrics in each song. I've never really had trouble. I think it's pretty clear. Understanding the lyrics after a few listens doesn't determine anything for me though. There are some great bands who I would never understand the lyrics of if I didn't read them. One band being Dead Kennedys. I love their sound, but I wouldn't understand most of their lyrics if it weren't for the internet. I believe he was murdered. It's all circumstantial evidence, which you can't convict someone on, but as Tony said, there's no way he could have killed himself. Perhaps he had someone kill him while he was drugged up because he didn't want to do it himself, or maybe Courtney had someone do it. Who knows.
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I love working on technical, minimal pieces. They just look great to me. Anyway, it started out as I wanted to make a simplistic deviantART ID for myself and I ended up creating a wallpaper. I love the colors too. [url=http://free.hostultra.com/~euphoria/artwork/startagain.png]Start Again[/url]
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1. On tests, of course. Who hasn't? On papers however, I don't plagiarize. For one, it's unfair to the original authors, and secondly, it's not that hard to write papers anyway. But yes, I cheat on tests, and most people I know do. I don't cheat if I don't have to, because I'm usually the smartest one at my table (I'm not complimenting myself, I'm insulting the others). However, on the standardized testing last week, I sat next to a very smart person and copied some of his answers on the state Algebra test. 2. Of course, I don't think I know anyone who hasn't at least glanced at someone else's paper. 3. My GPA, definately. I usually don't have to cheat, like I said, but if I'm struggling on a test and I'm sitting next to someone reliable, I'll peek a couple of times, but I don't just copy. Whenever I do cheat, it's usually only to check my own answer, and not completely copying there's. Like proofing my test, lol.
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Ah, I see the grey now. I didn't look closely enough, as my eye was drawn directly to the orange, and the shade of grey it is made it seem as though it were a dark blue. It's good that you follow Tarantino's style, but still keep it unique, whereas most people would completely rip off his style and run with it. Have you ever taken a design class? It seems like you know alot about it, which is a good thing, depending on what career you're looking forward to.
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The orange one actually looks like the asian guy (I forget his name) who protects the oracle in The Matrix. That's how it seems to me at least. As for the ad, it looks pretty good. Nice use of complimentary colors, and not just laying them against each other, but actually bordering them with white, which makes it look better. I also like the depth given off by the blue character being behind the orange one. It makes it seem even deeper because blue is darker than orange. Nice touch. As for the background, I like it, but I honestly don't like the color of it at all. I think a brighter color would do the ad more justice. If you were looking for something to contrast well with the silhouettes, I think the text would do it well enough if you used something bright like yellow. Although, you said you're moving away from the Kill Bill theme, so you might not want to. Nice job :)
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It's been a while since I posted any work on here, but I really need some help to fix a problem I have in my current piece. Any graphics experts' advice is welcomed. I was just screwing around in photoshop with an old minimalism image but it started to turn into a trendwhorish abstract thing, but I thought it looked cool, so I ran with it. The problem is, it's pretty grainy at the edges, and I've tried alot of different techniques but can't get rid of it without blurring the crap out of it. I even used to smudge tool to remove some of it, but it's still not enough. Any ideas? [url="http://chriscole.250free.com/radi.png"]http://chriscole.250free.com/radi.png[/url]