My Philosophy of Technical Art. 

When I was in high school, my heart was pledged to the sciences. I was schooled with a technical mind, and Physics was my dearest companion. Yet, while I dwelt in numbers and laws of motion, I also loved the quiet intimacy of drawing, the poetry of line and shade.

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I began my undergraduate years in the halls of Architecture, believing it to be the perfect marriage of Physics and Drawing. But soon I found it was a realm of its own: Architecture is not Physics, nor is it Drawing. It is its own sovereign kingdom. In those days, I wandered as one divided: a soul of technical inclination, trained instead to become an artist, and forced to reshape the very lens through which I perceived the world.

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Though I have since departed from the path of the architect, I hold no regret. For it was within the studio walls that I was gifted with a rare dual vision. As an architect, I beheld space, form, and rhythm, concepts ineffable to those unversed in the arts. As a craftsman of computer graphics, I discerned vertices, polygons, fractals, procedural generation, and ray tracing, equally elusive to the uninitiated. I rejoice in standing between these worlds, understanding not only their mysteries but also why they are so stubbornly incommunicable to those who dwell on only one side.

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The advent of Computer Graphics set me upon the path I now walk. I name myself a Technical Artist for two causes: first, that I may furnish the techniques that creation demands; second, that I may yet remain faithful to the path of art. My spirit is greedy for all that is mysterious, logical, and beautiful, and it delights me beyond measure to guide others toward the world as I see it.

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Thus I am grateful for the breadth of vision my training has bestowed. With this vision, I yearn to contribute to the realm where humankind fashions its most precious works. This is the philosophy I embrace as a Technical Artist.