As I mentioned in the previous post, I have a hard time getting started. Much like I have a hard time committing to doing laundry. Or cooking dinner. I think about all the steps needed to successfully wash clothes or cook a 3-course meal and I get all flustered and the lazy gene kicks in. But if I stop thinking about all the necessary steps and just focus on the next logical step, the chore seems to finish itself.

I suffer in the same way with coding. I’ll think, “I really want to make a robust environment complete with weather systems and night-day cycles and wind and trees and grass and clouds and bugs and birds and valleys and…” and before I even have a chance to get started, I overwhelm myself with all that needs to be done.

(note: Any code you see will likely be pseudocode based on bits from Cinder, Processing, OpenGL, GLSL, and whatever else might strike my fancy. These posts aren’t meant to be source-code repositories. I want to talk more about my process and not my actual code. There are much smarter people out there that can explain how to code. I’d rather talk about why I code).

Vec3f point = Vec3f( 0.0f, 0.0f, 0.0f );

What could be simpler than a single point? It is a location in space. A single x, y, and z position. It helps to ground me in the void. It is something to look at. By creating a point, I am giving myself an anchor. It becomes the focus of my attention. Something infinitely small in a space that is infinitely large.

There is definitely something compelling about the single point in a void. It is a perfect representation of duality. The void represents the infinite, an expanse which has no end. The point represents the finite, a location which has no dimension. What better place to start?

I have been referring to the void as black and the point as white. I do this because of the obvious correlation to outer space. We know the universe to be mostly empty space which to our eyes comes across as black. It is generally devoid of any light. In programming, we show this by setting the red, green, and blue components to zero. I think of a point as being like a star in space. To our eyes, it is a pinpoint of white which is represented with red, green and blue values of one.

Next up: Giving this point some personality.

This is how all my projects begin.

There is no red, green or blue. A complete absence of content or meaning. Anything can exist there. Any form. All possible worlds. But for now, it is the computational equivalent of nothingness.

Darkness within darkness. The gate to all mystery.

When I decided to attend art school, I was going to major in painting. I had a decent technique. I knew what paints to buy. I knew which brushes would last the longest. I would buy a large canvas, prep it with gesso, and then just sit and stare. Making that first mark was hard for me. I envied those that were able to just dive right in, seeming to know exactly where they wanted to end up. I was not like them. I wanted to plan it all out in my head before starting. As a result, I wasn’t a very good painter.

It is like the eternal void: filled with infinite possibilities.

My hesitance stems from not knowing what I want to create. When I start a new project, I occasionally have an idea in mind but far more often I simply want to create something new. I want to start down a path. I do not know where I want to go but I know that I want to go somewhere.

A good traveler has no fixed plans
and is not intent upon arriving.
A good artist lets his intuition
lead him wherever it wants.

All I need to do is place brush to canvas. The simple act of starting is enough. I need not know where I want to go. By simply going, regardless of which direction I choose, I will be well on my way. Even if I do not yet know where that destination lies.

A journey of a thousand li begins with a single step.

Next up: Taking that first step.

The quotes in this post are from the Tao Te Ching, as interpreted by either Stephen Mitchell or Jane English and Gia-fu Feng.

I have been maintaining this blog since July 2005. Sometimes I post frequently, as often as once per day. Usually the frequency is closer to once per month. However, in that month there are usually several posts that were partially written and abandoned because I felt I wasn’t offering anything new. At some point I inevitably start to think, “Everyone knows this stuff so why bother writing it out.” It’s like I’m writing to tell you all that bacon tastes really good. Everyone knows that bacon tastes really good so what is the use in telling you.

Many of you have a stronger grasp on coding because you studied it in school or have just been doing it a lot longer than I. Many of you have a weaker grasp on coding because you are coming at it from a different discipline and just haven’t been doing it for very long. Some of you are only interested in source code. Some of you are only interested in viewing the outcome. Some want to know my inspirations. Some want to know about the tech. Some of you want music videos and send me links to your myspace page. To appeal equally to all of you is an impossible task.

I have decided that I will start publishing more of the abandoned posts. Hopefully, you will learn a bit more about why I do what I do, instead of just reading about what I have done. What’s the harm, right? It’s not like you can leave me mean comments. I turned those off long ago.

I wouldn’t be surprised if many of you had no idea I was a Sculpture major. Well, originally, I was a Painting major, then Illustration, then Industrial Design, before finally settling on Sculpture in the second semester of my sophomore year. I spent the next two and a half years learning how to cut wood, bend metal, blow glass, weld steel, shave plaster, cast wax. It was all very exciting to me and I loved every minute of it. Well, not EVERY minute. The sound an oxy-acetylene torch makes when it backfires is comparable to a gunshot. Oh, and did you know if someone cuts themselves on a bandsaw, you are not supposed to clean up their blood? I ended up sprinkling saw dust on the small puddle next to me because, frankly, it was off-putting.

By the time I reached my senior year in 1997, my experience with the internet was limited to poking around on AOL while I was home for Christmas. I was told by my thesis instructor that it would be a good idea for me to make a simple website so I could upload photos of my work which might make it easier to get employment or eventually, maybe even a gallery showing. I picked up a web design book, downloaded a trial copy of Flash 3, and stumbled backwards into a life making websites.

Seven and a half years ago, Benjamin Palmer (CEO of The Barbarian Group) approached me and asked if I would be interested in starting a company with him. I told him I would think about it. Benjamin was a new friend at that time. We had worked on one project together for Arnold Worldwide earlier that year and met up for coffee every now and again. Our friendship solidified on the afternoon of September 11th, 2001. At that time, I pretty much lived in the shadow of the John Hancock tower in Boston. When it was reported that a couple planes were still unaccounted for, worries began to spread that the Hancock tower might be on the list. Benjamin called me and told me to come over to his place where a few people were gathered to watch the story unfold on the news. We have been close ever since.

The next day, another close friend, Keith Butters (ECD of The Barbarian Group), mentioned that he was thinking about Benjamin’s proposal to start a company. Keith and I worked together at Circle Interactive a couple years earlier. I slaved away over squeezing 100k worth of content into a 12k animated GIF banner ad, and Keith was at the next desk slavishly cropping the shadows out of hundreds of photos of watches and pens. We certainly paid our dues and through the drudgery, we became close friends. I trust his judgement so when he said he was going to accept, I called up Benjamin and said I would accept too.

We met up in Benjamin’s apartment in Roxbury and began to formulate a plan. It was there that I formally met Rick Webb (COO of The Barbarian Group). I had known Rick but only in passing. We both worked at Arnold at the same time, but didn’t have any direct interaction with each other. He impressed me right away. Im still amazed that someone with so many friends and social obligations can find the time to be so very well read. Rick can speak intelligently about almost any subject under the sun.

And so it began. Our first job was for Nike (through Wieden + Kennedy). Our second, Volkswagen (through Arnold Worldwide). Not too shabby for a start-up working out of Benjamin’s apartment. Ever since then, its been success after success. We received a ton of press, a ton of awards, and never had to go searching for clients.

And as we grew, those memories of art school and outside interests began to feature more heavily during my day dreams. I was becoming less and less interested in the work I was helping to create for clients. A pivotal moment came in 2006 when The Barbarian Group was asked to work on an installation projection for NextFest (with Goodby Silverstein & Partners for their client, Saturn). To date, this has been the most rewarding work experience I have been a part of. Sure, the deadline was short and the pay wasn’t exactly commensurate, but the final piece was exceptional.

I was hooked. This is what I want to do. I want to work on installation projects that require human interaction and feature millions of tri-color LEDS and proximity sensors and mirrors and robots… yeah! Then the reality of the situation started to sink in. Those jobs go to either 1) companies like UVA or rAndom international or Second Story who have a ton of experience in this field (which The Barbarian Group has been trying to become, but it’s hard to expand your capabilities in a down economy), or to 2) freelance specialists who can help out the previously mentioned companies.

And this brings me to my decision to leave The Barbarian Group. Over the last couple years, we have received numerous requests to work on installation oriented projects. Sadly, these clients were not interested in hiring a whole company. Rick Webb phrased the problem very eloquently:

The work that Robert does holds vast potential. And we’ve spent a lot of time and effort trying to sell it and turn it into some profitable work. We’ve had some success through the years, but it’s also been a frustrating process. The clients that want what Robert offers often want just that – Robert. And many of these clients are agencies that aren’t super psyched to hire the whole of The Barbarian Group. Many other of these potential clients are arts collectives, experimental endeavors, collaboration and low-budget, high art affairs that Robert would love to pursue, but often is unable to, due to the fact that he is working to contribute to the company as a whole, and these people cannot afford The Barbarian Group.

So what now? That is an exciting question. The amount of interest I have gotten in the two weeks since my departure has been quite heartening. However, I won’t be leaping right into freelance projects. I have a couple gallery pieces that I will be working on to be elaborated upon in my next post. Also, Bill Lindmeier and I are putting the finishing touches on an iPhone app that we hope to submit in the next two weeks.

In the end, I am extremely grateful to all the Barbarians for their support and friendship over the years. Especially the Barbarian partners who graciously extended me the freedom to pursue less traditional (and often less profitable) work. I cannot imagine a better way to have spent the last seven years of my professional life. Thank you.

It almost feels like I am a teenager again about to leave home to attend RISD. Im nervous, anxious, and extremely hopeful. Lets just hope there are fewer bandsaws out there.