Tag Archives: satisfaction

Finally Reflecting on 2016

If the number of 2016 posts in this journal were representative of productivity, it would appear to have been a mostly uneventful year. That certainly wasn’t the case. January felt like a continuation of December and only now is it beginning to feel like the new year has begun. And so, the time to grade myself on goal completion for the previous year and to set goals for the current year has finally arrived. I am a proponent of annual goal setting. When I make a solid list, refer to it regularly, and hold myself accountable I tend to meet many of them. Oddly, last year I didn’t make a solid list. Apparently I forgot to or lost it on my perpetually chaotic desk. Despite that oversight, several non-specified goals came to fruition and a number of pleasing events occurred.

  • I have been wanting to travel for work more frequently. I had three opportunities. 1) A producing/shooting gig in Costa Rica (mentioned in my last post to this blog nearly a year ago). 2) A Facebook live-stream overnight trip near Joshua Tree for AirBNB. 3) A 2 month roadtrip around the U.S.with Erika (55 days—42 states—13,510 miles) creating a web-series for TYLT that will be releasing very soon.
  • We at Butcher Bird funded and shot our first feature film. It is now running through the final stages of post.
  • I convinced my mother to try a tandem sky-dive
  • I lead some great climbing routes including the 1500ish foot Solar Slab, the unique Tunnel Vision, and the imposing Matthes Crest (which turned into a bit of an all-night epic because of a foolish attempt to retrieve a fallen camera).
  • I descended a few undocumented canyons (some with the ever beloved Scott Swaney).
  • I finally got to shoot video of a snow covered San Antonio Falls canyoneering descent (something I had been trying to do for quite some time and posted about here on this blog) and put together a 360 VR video of the Seven Teacups.
  • Erika and I finally made it to Alaska and toured a glacier. We also made it to several National Parks we hadn’t visited before and attended Halloween in Salem, MA. We have now been to 45 of the 50 states.
  • I got to do some great social things with friends like multiple game nights, an awesome bachelor party weekend in Zion for the Merrill wedding, visit my family multiple times, and introduce multiple people to their first ever multi-pitch climbs.
  • The podcast continued (currently 46 episodes) and featured guests from all over the country recorded in their respective locales.
  • Erika and I celebrated 10 years together touring the treetops of Wrightwood.

It was a rewarding year, but there are certainly places I fell short:

  • Happy Canyoneering (my puppet talkshow short) did not move forward.
  • Scuba Climbers (my Class C canyoneering documentary) did not move forward.
  • I slacked on a proper physical fitness routine in the last half of the year.
  • I didn’t make the strides towards big wall climbing I’d hoped to and climbing El Cap for my 40th birthday is seeming increasingly less likely.
  • I still haven’t started work on a Death Valley Mars short I want to do.
  • My office is still a disorganized mess.
  • I didn’t try cross country skiing, dogsledding, or solo backpacking.
  • I haven’t gotten back into a regular illustrating routine in years.
  • And various other projects, responsibilities, etc. languished while my pile of books to read increased faster than it depleted.

And so now I sit compiling my list of goals for 2017. I look at where I succeeded and failed in 2016 and attempt to course correct. Where do I want to be in a year and how do I get there? Life is too damn short to squander.

3 Bags and an Ultrasound

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On 4 Feb. 2016 at 4:35 PM, I received a text from Steven, “R u avail for paid shoot in Hawaii feb 15-20?”
I replied, “Sure. What is the shoot?”
“fast changing project. are you okay to go to Amazon instead?”
And thus it began.

On the night of 9. Feb. 2016, the project was greenlit and I finally received a briefing. I had a week to put together a very particular shoot in an undecided Central American country. A producing gig, something I tend to avoid and let my business partners handle, something I am not especially experienced in doing. In a foreign country. To shoot in 10 days. With a limited budget. I’ve always wanted to be paid to travel to foreign countries so I accepted the ludicrous challenge. I scoured the internet for any sort of production companies I could find in Belize, Guatemala, Costa Rica, and Ecuador. I sent out a bunch of emails and went to bed hoping for the best.

The next two days were a proverbial whirlwind filled with nonstop emails, international phone calls, and general shoot preparations. Two companies were my international saviors,  Costa Rica Film Support and Belize Film Works. They helped me build packages of photos and promises to quickly sell our client on a location. Costa Rica won out and the night of the 11th I had tickets to fly on the 17th. My crew would meet me on the 20th (after multiple days of back-to-back shooting in Singapore). In 48 hours, we’d gone from a very rough idea to a full-fledged planned international shoot. Much of my thanks goes to Julie Echeverri of Costa Rica Film Support whose fast communication and problem-solving made this unrealistic goal possible. She also organized everything for us on the Costa Rica side from boarding, to transportation, to meals.

Wednesday morning arrived and Erika left me at LAX with 100 lbs. of luggage (2 duffel bags of props and costumes, a backpack of personal and work items, and a portable Ultrasound). Traveling with an Ultrasound is an interesting experience and I have become quite adept at explaining what it is in Spanish to confused TSA personnel. An Ultrasound causes confusion domestically as well and could effectively pass as either a record player, musical instrument, or George Foreman Grill. Not a single person ever asked me, “Hey, is that an Ultrasound?”

I arrived in San Jose that afternoon and was greeted by Zequ, an Argentinian Anthony Kiedis lookalike, and my local producer. The next morning, he drove me 5 hours (largely in the rain) down South to the Bri Bri region. We passed through an amazing rainforest, down coastlines, and over an abundance of rivers of all types. He and I would spend the next few days scouting innumerable rivers as possible shooting locations, preparing our local actors, building a thatched hut (ranchito) from bamboo, navigating Costa Rican permitting laws, weaving through dense traffic and across flooded backroads, traipsing through muddy marshlands, managing a local drunk canoe pilot we called the Shaman, repeatedly crossing a somewhat rickety suspension bridge, struggling to make everything come together and meet approval in 2 days, dealing with changing plans and weather, spying wild sloths in treetops, and amusing each other immensely. We put the finishing touches on our ranchito shortly before the arrival of the cast and crew Saturday morning. Late that night, we were done. Sunday was a day for a little work, a lot of travel, and celebrations.

Monday morning, the crew flew to Los Angeles for two final shoot days. My afternoon flight was cancelled and I was forced to spend another night in San Jose in a complimentary Sheraton room. The week of 3 bags and an Ultrasound refused to end. Pura Vida.

Five Packed Weeks

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July 14 through August 19 is a bit of a blur. A convergence of events laid the groundwork for five weeks of productive travel. 35 days on the road split by 2.5 days at home. It began as a plan to attend a wedding in Puerto Morelos, Mexico (near Cancun). Erika and I decided it would be a good idea to do some additional exploration in the area since we would already be flying to the Yucatan. Thus, we visited Belize and Guatemala after leaving Mexico where we did a fair amount of diving, cave tubing, ruin touring, chicken bus riding, sweating, and swimming. We then returned to Los Angeles. I had been hoping to shoot some canyoneering footage in the Pacific Northwest and had made some loose plans with folks in the area. I also had begun recording several interviews for an outdoor podcast I was developing while simultaneously working on ways to bring more outdoor related video business to Butcher Bird Studios (that’s my business with some other dudes). The fates alerted me to the fact that the Outdoor Retailer Show and Ouray Canyoning Festival were occurring in succession this summer around the time I was hoping to go to Oregon. The idea for chinnyroad2015 was born. Upon returning from Central America, I would head out on a 4600 mile road trip 2 days later. I piled a large amount of gear into my car and left for San Francisco.

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Over 21 days, I travelled from Southern California to Oregon, Washington, Idaho, Wyoming, Utah, Colorado, and Arizona. I ran 11 canyons (shooting several), recorded 6 podcast interviews, attended the Outdoor Retailer Show, Attended the Canyoning Festival, learned to line dance from elderly strangers in a park, visited many new places, slept in campgrounds, slept in my car, tried Airbnb for the first time, acquired my first smartphone, flooded my new instagram account with photos, made dozens of cool new friends and business contacts, won some prizes, saw a dog standing on a roof, visited a cool science museum, ate dinner at Twitter, spied a “Bigfoot Research Vehicle,” fought the smell of mildew from wet gear in my car with the urinal rich smell of a “new car scent” air freshener, reunited with many long-distance friends across the West, listened to every type of radio program available, slept in a murder motel, visited the shop in “The Middle of Nowhere,” appreciated my hammock, hoped rain wouldn’t turn into flash floods, watched Alden cut out his own stitches, shot footage of the no longer orange Animas River in Durango, watched fawns nursing at a campsite in Silverton, paid for a straight-razor shave, and never once got to climb any of the awesome rocks I saw.

The aftermath of these two trips will sporadically appear in this journal for some time I imagine. And often at chinnyroad2015flashback.

JTree Januaries

jtree-jan001Last January, I visited Joshua Tree and lead my first trad routes. It was a harrowing experience—at least my first route was—despite the low grades. Throughout the year, I lead a few more routes including some multi-pitches on Tahquitz. It’s a new year, a new (exceptionally mild) winter, and the time had come to return to Joshua Tree.

I left the last trip jonesing to climb “The Eye” on Cyclops Rock. It’s rated in that low-grade zone where I feel comfortable and it looked really fun. It’s essentially a tall alcove that leads to a small tunnel near the summit of the rock around 100 feet above the ground.

I rolled into Joshua Tree Saturday morning with Travis and Moreno. We were lucky enough to find a campsite at HIdden Valley directly across the street from Cyclops Rock. The fates had spoken. We set up camp, Moreno packed eight days of food into his day-pack along with his video camera, Travis grabbed his GoPro mounted quadcopter, and we hiked over to the rock. I lead it without incident, belayed the guys up, and we got a little video during the prep. It was a good warm-up and ego boost. It was time to pick a new route. “Penelope’s Walk” just around the corner seemed like a good idea.

“Penelope’s Walk” is 5.5ish with some slab-climbing, a bit of traversing, a little cave, and a short crack leading to the 80 foot summit. It looked fairly easy from the ground.  I was surprised to find out how psychologically taxing it would be. Early on I noticed the rock was poor. I’ve climbed on worse choss (crumbly rock), but it was bad enough to make me question the reliability of some of my foot placements and a couple of my pro placements. Regardless, things were going well until I reached the traverse. I spent a large amount of time at this spot—climbing, down-climbing, weighing my options, looking for alternate routes (it’s where I’m perched in the first photo of the gallery). My dilemma was committing to one move roughly half-way across the traverse. The rock was poor and I couldn’t find any reliable foot placements I could trust to execute this one move linking both ends of the traverse. A fall would cause a pendulum swing possibly into a lower ledge. Chancing a fall was not an option. Thankfully, there were several rest spots nearby where I could cling to the wall comfortably and consider other options. After many retreats, I finally found a way to get me past that questionable spot. I climbed into the cave and rested for a bit. An older man had walked up earlier, stopped to watch, and chat with Travis. Thankfully, he would relay the small bit of reassurance I needed to top out on this route. Next to the cave is a thin crack that works left, then turns 90 degrees directly to the summit. It bulges out a bit, and looks quite intimidating. It was hard to protect, my last good piece was below in the cave, and a fall would have been ugly. The man on the ground assured me that it looked worse than it was, that as soon as I felt like I needed a hold, it would be there. I stood at the seam, placed a marginal cam primarily to appease me psychologically and committed. Hesitation would likely lead to a fall. Hesitation was not an option. I have rarely climbed a crack so smoothly and calmly. Although the crux of the route, I felt like I was dancing through it. My only option was to climb it well, that motivation made it so. I topped out, relief and satisfaction washed over me.

Moreno followed and cleaned the route, pulling onto the summit as the Sun set. It had not been the quick, easy route I suspected. Not because the climbing was hard, but because it was just intimidating enough at the right spots to make me doubt myself. I did feel that I had progressed as a trad leader, although. The year before, “False Layback” (my first) had terrified me. “Penelope’s Walk” had made me uncomfortable and a bit frightened at parts. It even had me consider bailing a few times, but I was never truly scared and I was confident in my abilities when it counted.

The next day I lead “The Eye” again, Travis shot some copter footage of it, and we gave him his turn on “Penelope’s Walk” by top-rope. Then, we climbed in the van and headed back West.

 

Leading Pitches

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Throughout my entire life, when I’ve seen tall things, I’ve felt this insatiable desire to be on top of them. My childhood included lots of console TV and refrigerator summits. Growing up in the flat, marshy South meant the only things climbable outdoors were trees. Rock climbing didn’t register as an option. After living in California for a few years surrounded by mountains, I realized that attempting to sate that inner yearning could be a reality. It has been three-and-a-half years since I decided to pursue my interest in rock climbing. Before then, I knew almost nothing about climbing.

In 2010, I took every climbing course I could find, read several books, and harassed any friend with a modicum of interest to go climb with me. I bought gear I needed, gear I thought I needed, and started attending climbing events and outdoor film festivals. I became proficient at setting up top-ropes, bouldered a little, and toyed with leading bolted sport routes. I even went to some indoor gyms a few times, although I still haven’t developed a taste for climbing on plastic under a roof. It was fun and, at times, an obsession. Yet, when I think of climbing I think of big walls stretching into the sky decorated with tiny people a thousand or more feet above the ground being gobbled whole by fractured, hungry rock. I think of trad climbing, I think of big wall climbing.

I knew from the beginning that leading trad routes was not something I could jump into. It was a goal to work towards. Thankfully, I was able to start following on multi-pitch trad routes early last year when I met someone who was willing to take me along. Earlier, this year I took the frightful first steps into leading my own single-pitch routes. At first, it was terrifying. It became a little less so with each subsequent lead. Yesterday was another seminal moment in my climbing pursuits. I led my first multi-pitch trad route on Tahquitz in Idyllwild (home of Erika’s beloved childhood camping memories). It is a low grade route called “The Trough.” It went well, I learned new things, and—best of all—I felt confident during and afterwards.

Big walls are still a ways off into the future, but climbing hundreds of feet up smaller rocks in a single day are pretty damn great in the meantime.

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Tradman Begins – The Trad Knight Rises

My First Trad Lead

It’s been nearly three years since I decided to start actively pursuing rock climbing. I’ve been building my skills and knowledge while acquiring experience in the various disciplines. I began with basic toproping and bouldering, then moved into leading moderate sport climbs. Last year I tried ice climbing and began following on multi-pitch trad routes. This has all been part of a process building to trad leading. I finally took that precipitous step this weekend and became a trad leader.

Most of you reading this aren’t climbers and may have no idea what I am talking about. Trad is “traditional” climbing. It’s what most of us think of when we picture rock climbing. Two people standing at the base of a route tie themselves together with a rope. The leader begins scaling the wall, the rope trailing beneath him. The follower stands at the base belaying him—feeding him rope and preparing to soften his fall if one occurs. Periodically the leader places gear (protection – pro for short) into cracks and features on the wall and clips the rope to it. The climbing and pro placement continues until the route is ascended. He builds an anchor, attaches himself and the rope to it, and belays the follower up the wall. The follower removes the pro placed by the leader as he climbs so they may reuse it (on a future climb or the next successive pitch). Leading trad takes more skill and knowledge than toproping and the potential for injury can be much greater. Knowing this, I had no intention to begin leading until positive I could handle the risk and responsibility. It also meant buying a lot of pricey gear to build a rack (a collection of the pro and assorted accessories used to trad climb). As of a few days ago, I had finally built that rack and felt confident I could successfully lead some low-grade routes.

My Trad Rack

There are many places to climb traditionally. Two hours away from L.A is an enormous park full of great trad climbing—Joshua Tree. My friends Al-Insan and Steve were foolish enough to put their confidence in me and agreed to share a JTree weekend where they would aid me in attempting to lead trad (and brave a 24 degree night in a frigid tent). Saturday afternoon, Al-Insan and I found ourselves at the base of a route named False Lieback in a shady and cold grove next to Cap Rock. It seemed like a good choice. It is rated well below the grade I am comfortable climbing (although JTree grades tend to feel much harder than at other climbing areas). We tied in and up I went. The first several feet were easy. I placed a small nut in a tiny flaring crack, attached a quickdraw, and clipped the rope. My first piece of protection was set. I continued up, placed a second piece and found myself in a dilemma. When you are leading, every move matters. You don’t want to slip or commit to something you aren’t positive you can pull off. I had reached a corner that jutted out ahead of me. I would need to traverse over and around this bulge. A mistake would potentially pitch me down onto a boulder and make for a really bad day. When building my rack, I opted to wait on the large size 3 and 4 cams thinking there would be many routes I could climb that wouldn’t need them. Here I was staring at a flaring corner with a size 4 crack above it yet no size 4 cam to place in it. At least twenty minutes passed as I wrestled with committing to this move without that piece of protection (Meanwhile, Al-Insan patiently stood below in the growing cold as his fingers grew numb). I looked for every solution to climb around it and place pro elsewhere—to no avail. I knew it was a move I could do, but I also knew the consequences were bad if I flummoxed it. I considered bailing—quitting. I reached around the rock, stepped onto the face, and chanced it. I stepped up and there was no longer an escape. I was either going immediately up or immediately down.

I had thoughts of an experience I had after moving into sport climbing (lead climbing on walls with pre-placed protection—bolts drilled into the face) on a beachside crag called Point Dume. I once made the mistake to lead a  route on that rock when it was wet. I assumed only the base would be damp. I sadly learned that nearly the entire 90 foot face was dripping wet, so damp it would turn the chalk on my hands into milky riverlets. That wall was 90 feet tall with only 4 widely-spaced (somewhat suspect) bolts. It was a slow frightening ascent, but through persistence and precaution I reached the top that day safe and shaken. Now, I was in a similar predicament on a measly 5.4 climb (half the grade of the aforementioned wet climb when dry) called False Lieback.

With my hands wedged in the crack, I worked my feet around the corner, and moved into a body-sized ascent gully. I was focused and frightened, the crack still seemed too wide for any of my gear and I wasn’t in a position where I felt comfortable pausing to place pro anyway. A toe briefly slipped off a nub. Terror shot through my body. I needed to keep moving! Now! I fought to keep my cool, but also fought to make my way up that incline as quickly and efficiently as possible. Huffing and puffing like an asthmatic, I worked my hands up the crack and my feet up the face gunning for a promising feature I could see ahead. I grabbed a firm hold, slid a cam into a bomber crack, clipped in, and released a triumphant yell. One day school teachers will replay recordings of that yell when teaching students the definition of catharsis. I looked back and saw the previous piece of pro I had placed— 20 feet below me.

I continued on, worked past a less-intimidating bulge, placed a couple more pieces of pro, and stepped onto the summit. An immense sense of accomplishment and relief washed over me. I grinned like a moron and jubilantly waved hello to strangers also atop the rock. Years from now this ascent will likely seem comical and unimpressive. At that moment, it was a victory unlike any I’d had before. Small steps can be immense. As if on cue, Steve walked past and saw us. He had arrived just in time to share in the celebration and take photos. I built an anchor and belayed Al-Insan. I would lead two more less stressful routes on Sunday. Hopefully I will lead many more in the future. Yet, the words “False Lieback” will always hold a special place no others can in my stupid little sentimental heart.

Success

The Power of the Internet

When we were in Hawaii, I found a 4GB SD card on the Captain Cook Trail while hiking down to Kealakekua Bay. It was lying in the dirt along the edge of the trail twinkling in the sunlight. I picked up the lonely card and set it in my camera bag where it could socialize with my various SD cards. If there were any photos on it, I would try to hunt down its owner. The card had many photos on it—three months worth.

A few days ago, I sat down and scoured the photos for an hour looking for clues. The plan was to make a list of potentially useful clues and post them (alongside a few photos) here and on Facebook. I hoped people would share the posts and eventually the owner would find out and contact me. That was not necessary. Instead, using the clues in the photos and various Google searches, I was able to find a name and email address for one of the people in the photos. As of this morning, the card is in the mail on its way to its rightful family.

Sometimes the internet can be used for good.

3 Month Delay

Fabio and Me

It’s been a while. This year has turned into a busy one. Much of my time is, unfortunately, spent sitting at a computer, but I do manage to get out a fair amount.

That is indeed Fabio in the photo above. I do meet celebrities every once in awhile, but I try to avoid being that annoying guy who begs for photos and autographs. There are, of course, exceptions. When I discovered that the man who shirtlessly adorned every romance novel in the 80s and 90s, the man who recorded amazing work-out videos and romance cassettes, the man who appeared in hilarious bit parts on many B-rate TV series, the man who hocked butter that wasn’t butter, the man who defeated a goose with his nose on a roller coaster would be at my local Whole Foods Market—I knew fate had smiled upon me. I also knew that my dearest pal, Bryan Nelson, would never forgive me if I passed up this serendipitous opportunity. And so, Erika and I traveled to the Glendale Whole Foods just so I could meet Fabio (and apparently buy his whey protein powder). Who says dreams don’t come true?

Besides being shackled to a computer and admiring Fabio, I’ve also been keeping to a relatively frequent climbing schedule. I attended the Red Rock Rendezvous in Nevada again this year. It’s an annual climbing festival filled with clinics, events, and vendors giving away lots of great stuff (Mammut gave me a free $90 headlamp!). Despite having our tent destroyed by high winds again, we had a great time. My highlight this year was my multi-pitch clinic where I got to go trad climbing for the first time. If you aren’t familiar with the term, trad is traditional climbing, what some consider “real climbing.” It’s the type of climbing where a group starts at the base of a rock and places protection as they climb up bringing the rope up with them. As they make their way up the rock pitch-by-pitch, the follower removes (or cleans) the protection. I took on the role of follower. Leading a trad climb is the dangerous part and requires experience and practice. The guide was our leader. We climbed four pitches on a 5.8 (moderate) route. Besides Erika and I, a few of our friends came to the Rendezvous this year also. Maybe we’ll get even more folks there in 2013.

One of the nice things about attending the Red Rock Rendezvous are the cool people you meet. I met a guy named Mark who has been climbing nearly as long as I’ve been breathing. He offered to start taking me trad climbing. I’ve been trying to move into trad, but it’s difficult since I’m the most experienced climber amongst my friends. The multi-pitch clinic at Red Rock and Mark’s offer were two great opportunities that graced me on the same day. Two weeks ago, Mark made good on his offer and we headed over to Idyllwild and climbed a six pitch route on Tahquitz Rock. It was a low-grade easy route, but snow had fallen earlier that week. The base was covered in snow and four of the six pitches also had a bit of snow on them. That made the ascent a little tricky, but dealing with the snow was a valuable piece of  additional climbing experience. Mark and I are heading back tomorrow.

I’ve also been doing as much canyoneering as I can squeeze in. I’ve run Rubio Canyon multiple times in the last few months and Karl and I ran Little Santa Anita last weekend. If we’re lucky, we’ll get a permit to do Mystery Canyon in Zion this summer.

In closing, a huge thing that happened in the last few months was the completion of “The Many Maladies of Marty Mitchell.” This is a short kids’ show I shot in my living room three years ago. It was finally finished and premiered in March. We held a Butcher Bird Studios Screening at the Goethe Institute on March 16th. We showed several of the projects we’ve worked on together and with others. We closed the night with the premiere of “Marty Mitchell.” It felt really good to finally be able to show it to people, especially those who helped make it happen.

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Enter The Marty

February 7th will be the three-year-anniversary of the Marty Mitchell shoot in my living room. Friday I completed the final tweaks and output of the last scene of the show. And it only took three years. Well, to be honest, it didn’t take three years, but it was stretched out over that time period. Thirteen and a half minutes of animated characters interacting with a live-action kid in animated worlds. Finally. Finished. Well, I am being a bit hasty. It isn’t truly finished. Ben Chan is currently scoring the soundtrack and we still need to review audio. Then. Then, it will truly be finished. Well, I’ll still have to output a master file, then create discs and compressed outputs, blahblahblah. But then. Then. Well, then, I need to screen it and maybe enter it in festivals and….

Anyway.

The “Light Teaser” is embedded above. Check it out and prepare yourself for the main event…coming soon (I hope).

3 Years in the Making

It has been nearly three years since we converted my living room into a makeshift greenscreen stage and shot the live-action footage I would need to create “The Many Maladies of Marty Mitchell.” Finally, it is almost done. My buddy, Ben is working on the sound design and music and I am tweaking the visuals. We are weeks away from a finished project. The video above is a short teaser. If you want to know more about the project, visit  ManyMaladies.com.

On an unrelated note, below are a few videos I worked on that went live recently:
Blabberbox 5
MapleStory Cannoneer Audition
MapleStory Mercedes Audition

It seems all I post about nowadays are video projects, sorry about that. Hopefully I’ll post on some other topics in the near future.

Mr. Meat and Freddy Foodstuff