Where The Magic Happens…

work placeThis is where the magic happens. This is where I decide who lives and who dies, who gets the girl and who gets a broken heart. This is where I experiment, where I create villains and heroes…. hell, this is what prevents me from becoming a criminal master mind, the place where I lock up all my bright, dark, romantic, and funny ideas.
This is where I inspire, this is where I live in body and spirit.
Never underestimate the power of art, for it is a way to give form to your spirit.
Have a creative year everyone.
A. H. Amin
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2015, Here We Go!

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Happy 2015, a once in a lifetime celebration. Humanity finally made it here and we are still not enslaved by robots (though I must say we are getting there since our hands are glued to our smart phones)
2014 is done; a history for some unlucky kid to read about in school  decades from now. For some, it was a year they will never forget, for others it was a year they wish they can forget. Either way it was a blessing that some of us managed to unravel the disguise it hid itself in. For me it was a full year, full time test of the mind, body, and spirit. It brought me to my yield strength, almost went beyond to break me. But I’ve learned long ago that god does not burden a soul beyond that it can bear.
GOD IS TESTING ME
Well, I finished my intern, officially a doctor now… okay okay, a dentist… you won’t see me do “… CLEAR!!” ZAPP!! Anyhow, I finished my intern, wealth and fame should be right afterward, my new clinic, my new brand clothing, tea with the queen every week… well… surprisingly it didn’t happen… plot twist!! I got sick… severe lung infection that no one yet knows what was the cause. So I stayed in bed, coughed blood once in a while, missed my employment date, and couldn’t do a better release for my novel Iblis. The sickness resolved itself, now I’m much much better than I ever was. I jog without coughing, and can actually breath without feeling ticklish between my ribs (only thing I missed 🙂 ).
I returned to my previous plans, found and regrouped with some of my friends and acquaintances who, not so long ago, decided to make a production company, a place where we can have the seeds of our talents and ideas planted and watch them grow. It turned out that they were not cut off for it, how do I know that? Well… I believe people are much like books, and like any book, there are things between the lines that are not written but can be formed through clues of well or poorly chosen words. They eventually wanted to call the company Q80Can (Kuwaiti can… as in a Kuwaiti can do it) and they wanted to focus on things that only attract Kuwaiti viewers. Now, living in Kuwait, one could understand why they thought that way, but I believe if it’s not meant for all, then it’s not art, Kuwait is a very small country, and plus, out of the twelve, only three were actually Kuwaiti, and an international team that only focuses on one place, one culture and a specific demographic viewers. In other words, the idea I have planned to produce with them was about to be altered so that it can only suit one nation. There are already boarders between countries… no need to place boarders in our minds.
I promote this... I am a citizen of the world.
I promote this… I am a citizen of the world.
So I contemplated, sulky and still ticklish between the ribs. I didn’t know what to do, I couldn’t find anyone who can bring the ideas buried deep with to life. That was the second question in the test… how will I answer it. In life you either win or lose… not true, you either win or learn.
 I saddled up and went on the hunt for an artist who may give form to my vision. Some would say eventually I would find one, but I have been severely unlucky, cursed some may think. The harder I tried the stronger was the fall. Living in Kuwait is one of the issues that is causing my writing career to move at a slower pace.
One would abandon such dreams at that point and call it a day. But not me. When you can’t stop thinking about your idea, when you live in two worlds, when it really hurts that you can’t accomplish it, that’s when you realize how important it is to you. But I ask myself, why is it so hard to make such a thing… is there another plan for how it should be done?
The answer came in a dream. I saw one of our generations best story tellers, Hideo Kojima, all I can say that this person makes me jealous. I told that person how much I hated his success… the answer was…” what is stopping you?” I answered by saying “I have no one to help me with it” Then, right before I woke up, that person said “You make it happen, don’t wait for anyone”.
So, following in the footsteps of one of my favorite motion graphic creators, Brooke Burgess, I decided to learn digital drawing and After Effect. But not until two weeks ago I decided to create everything literally by myself, and I mean Literally; drawing using Manga studio and photoshop, music score using FLStudio, editing usind After Effect, and even voice acting using Adop Audition. A full 26 episodes done entirely by yours truly, in hopes not to just inspire through the story I wrote, but also through the way I’m doing it, to prove that nothing is impossible, everything can be done with a little of faith, passion, tickly ribs, and most importantly, YOU.
I’ll talk more about that of course, for now I’ll just let the pictures do the talking for me.
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All the pictures seen are done by moi. It is my first time drawing and it took me a while to find a method that suits a beginner artist like me. I am trying my best to see this episodic story to its end. Story wise it is done, drawing wise just finished drawing episode one. Learning through doing is how I plan to do, through trial and error until something makes sense eventually :).
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Here’s where the magic happens. I’m using an Alienware laptop, Bamboo drawing pad and a Yamaha keyboard and some figures to cheer for me.
Well, I guess it is obvious what my new year resolution would be, that and publishing Iblis on bookstores where I am, also, I am working on the third book and I still have Kima, my inspirational story set in 1928 South Africa. So, since my hands are starting to cramp, I’ll leave you with my deepest wishes of happiness and health for you and all your beloved ones.
One more new year’s resolution is to learn this 🙂
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The Last Weeks…

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So this is me trying to go back in time, in order to prevent myself from ever getting this hairdo. The time machine is in Guantamo bay, which explains why I’m wearing this orange disguise. As you can see from the second picture… Mission accomplished.

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Alright then, here’s the truth. I have been diagnosed with some sort of severe lung infection and it didn’t seem to stop from spreading until two weeks ago, and thanks to my brother in law, Doctor Khalid (his name means immortal by the way) blessed me with some elixir of life of a medicine. He was the one who saved me… I bought him a nice shirt for that… I guess we’re even, right? 😀

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Here’s my doctor with his son… God bless them both

Everyone at a certain point in their lives encounter bumps in their journey, some bumps are higher or wider than others, variable in their impacts and effects, and some makes us stumble and fall, but that is fine… as long as we trip while walking in the right direction, eventually we’ll get to our destination. After all, a smooth sea doesn’t create an expert sailor.
I have been occupying myself with new ideas, one of them will be shockingly a new path for the river of my creative juices to flow through, and it’s heading toward an ocean under cerulean sky.
So… Let’s leave this blog today with something fun.
Here is my past weeks in Instagram.

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By The Heart…

Once there was a man, child at heart, but old geezer was his ways. Playful at the quad, teaser to the young ones around. He was Liked by many, but loved by few. And one night led to a morning, wide awake now, he cried at a reflection that was not in his image. Not able to bear the ugliness of what he sees, he runs and runs, in hopes that he will magically disappears. Wasted wishes won’t do, so a change of site may bring him some peace through the day’s dew. With war at his mind, he decides to alter his structure, hoping that in the end, he may alter that picture. Fearsome at view, but most importantly, quieter will get the viewers.

Building his rage as he tries to pickup his pace, he found himself running towards a child that leaks. Eyes red as flame, watery as the toddler speaks.

“Lost from my father and brother, cannot find one another”. shaky his words were, he explained to the man his dilemma. abandoning his quest to change his might, he opened his heart, for the kid in white. Cheering him up as they reduced the distance’s space, challenging him every couple of yards for a race. Laughing now, he spots his father and brother, smiling as they see us laugh with each other.

The man realized as he left them, that it is by the heart and not the might you can change one another.

 

So… that’s pretty much what had happened. I have experienced sadness from what I see on TV. I lived abroad but I still have roots from where I was originated from. And every time I look at the news, I feel those roots are being severed. With talks of ISIS expanding, I sought to build up stamina, ending up facing a child who helped me see things better. As the great Gandhi said, ” Be the change you want to see in the world.”

I am still writing and my upcoming works are my ways to change the world… well, at least change a single child, so he or she might remember that there is still goodness in this world when they grow old.

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Why I’m Off, you ask?

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It is rather true, a Bobcat like me always has his head itching with mice running around inside, searching for a fattening cheese of an idea. As any author who believes in what he/she writes, I… we… live in two dimensions. If it gets quieter, let me assure you, that’s when an author really becomes crazy, because we can now hear the mice, and they look so delicious to us Bobcat-writers. But the real struggle for any author is grasping the ideas, and placing them in the right context, which explains the maddening state we try our best to conceal. My rat trap is my pen and notebook and I always keep them around; in my pocket, on my table, and even on my bed when I have to go to sleep, just in case some scratchy noises wake me up at night and I needed to set a trap very quickly.

I have reviewed my recent life and found out how different I’ve become since I started writing, behavioral and habitual divergence from my former self influenced by the lifestyle changes to keep up with the mice in my head. I am crazy, but it is the good kind, the kind that you know you are mad, and you wish you can fall deeper if it meant you would get your artistic soul nourished.

But do you know what’s more illogical? Having ideas that you really believe in, and not share them with the world… now that would drive you to real madness.

Be creative, be happy, be with purpose.

 

~ A. H. Amin

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Spark in the Dark, but for now it can’t… Bark??…

I woke up yesterday in the middle of the night because I had a bright spark of an idea for one of the books I’m writing. I wrote that idea in the dark on a piece of paper to remember later when I’m wide awake.I don’t know what I wrote and I can’t seem to remember what that idea was? All I know is that it’s important.

Help!!

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Someone explain the hand writing. Is it because I was too sleepy or is it because I’m a dentist??