Utilizing my acute skills of observation and stalker-like tenacity, I have determined that Kevin Durand’s character in ‘I am Number Four’ will look almost exactly like Christopher Walken’s horseman in ‘Sleepy Hollow’–save for Durand being 8 feet tall with black eyes. The sharp teeth, pale skin, black hair all adds up. People are always comparing the two, and now it all makes sense!
Well, sort of. I still don’t know what the hell he’s gonna look like, but I feel like I’ve created my own solution to an unsolvable problem.
So, anyway, I’m very very frustrated. Once again, my 3D art teacher has asked me to buy something which is not available. I am so unbelievably tired of that class, that my one and only goal in life at the moment, is to complete it and GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE. I would like nothing more than to take a baseball bat to everything in that godddamned workshop. I’m sick of creating crappy-looking pieces of ‘art’ which consist of little more than wood and glue, or paper, or–like the most recent project–plastic spiders.
That class is like taking a course in which you walk into a room, your teacher hands you a list of materials that you might need, maybe, and a list of subjects and people from which you might possibly be tested on, in some way. You are never told when, you are never told how, you are just expected to know.
The 3rd dimension is the dimension of everything going horribly. We don’t need a 3rd dimension.
