Character design for a final. this is my first time working 100% digitally so it feels a bit rusty.

Jaco Pastorius is an amazing dude. This doesn't do him justice. But I tried.

A Moment of Clarity

Rolling down the window will help. Maybe. His last shred of concentration had left him days ago. It fluttered out the window along with the rest of his cigarette ash and whatever spine he may have possessed, somewhere along a cliff-side road just east of a minuscule village called Zennor.  Each vertebrae scattered across the surface of the single lane, barely paved road, rolling around for a bit before finally coming to rest like a handful of dice. With surprising force, the wind pushed its way through the growing crack as the window was opened. It brushed through his stiff hair, ran its fingers over the length of his stale scalp and down the back of his neck, into the newly open and slightly scabbed wounds in between each shoulder blade. This cold, and somewhat agitating sensation immediately jolted him awake and caused him to take note of the salty air and the cool dew that had begun collecting on the lifeless shards of bone that lay scattered on the road a number of kilometers back. Forget about them. He can do just fine without it. He watched his father make a comfortable living, and he barely had a rib left in his body. Still, the cold only reminded him of the large crevice in his back and the undressed tendons and the novelty it contained. It's for the better, surely, but it will take some adjusting to.  He pushed himself against the back of his seat and rolled the window up. It's raining now anyway. Not as hard as it usually does, but enough to smudge the dust on windshield and keep him from seeing any potholes or animals or bits of skeleton that may be lying the road. These worries were somewhat irrational, but telling himself this didn't make him any less nervous about the possibility. The windshield had now become a murky and somewhat opaque gray being stirred around by two synchronized second-hands on a clock. He scanned through the radio channels again, to see if he could find anything to occupy his thoughts with. Still no stations. Nothing discernible anyway. The gash along the base of his neck was growing increasingly itchy, but the the exposed muscle tissue was still tender enough that trying to relieve his discomfort would only result in excruciating pain. He squinted in concentration, trying to take his mind off the itching and focus on seeing through the dense waves of rain pelting his car with growing intensity. It didn't take long before his look of severity turned into that of a numb sort of indifference. His eyes were wide and dry, surrounded by heavy purple skin that was draped delicately over his cheekbones. His brows were raised in an attempt to keep his eyelids suspended and possibly defer the symptoms of extreme fatigue and dehydration. He could no longer support his neck. It was unclear as to whether the cause was the lack of frame holding his head up, or the 112 hours he had spent without sleep or nourishment. He pondered for a moment, exactly what was happening around him, he was contorted in an unfamiliar position. His head rest against the steering wheel as he watched while primitive, hand-built, rock fences rushed by his window growing larger. This was puzzling to him. It was not how fences were known to behave. A small smile inched its way across his lips. He chuckled. Then listened as the sound of rain against the face of a clock faded, and was interrupted by the noise he was frequently met with moments before drifting into sleep.

On Friday I got to shake the hand of the man who inspired me to take up bass (Arif Mirabdolbaghi). I told him I had learned most of the stuff he had written, he replied saying I was probably better than him at this point. We both knew it was a lie though. I also yelled to Jeff Loomis that we had similar hair, to which he laughed and responded "Hey look, it's my little brother."  I listen to a lot of weird music, but one of my guilty pleasures is my affinity for metal. In this case, neo-classical metal. It's incredible to me.



Arpeggios man. Everywhere...
That being said, I probably couldn't handle listening to this as extensively as I did in high school, where my ipod was rarely playing anything other than Paul Gilbert or Jason Becker or the above album. I still enjoy the shear display of talent, but after a while it just feels like eating too much desert. You need some whole note rests in order to have a balanced diet.

Something I do

I feel like such a douche for doing this. Anyway, here's a thing I recorded a minute ago cause I was bored. I learned this song back in october, but only now got around to doing anything with it. The only reason I did this anyway is because I had a friend who wanted to see... So yeah... Don't judge me or my weird-fitting shirt.