So, you’re probably asking, “What is it anyway?” I don’t know either; I made it without really having any plan or reference. When I asked my high school biology teacher to figure out what it should be called, he wrote back that it appeared to him to be a combination between an elephant, a rabbit, and a deer or antelope. Thus, he figured: PACHiderm, rabbIT, antelOPE = PACHITOPE. That’s the story of how the pachitope got it’s name, now for the story of how the pachitope came to be:
Here is the one and only one place where the pachitope has anything to do with Nebuchadnezzar: this story took place somewhere in the middle of making my senior film. One day, in my art history class, the professor chose to show us a seriously disturbing film that I still don’t understand, and don’t ever intend to understand—it was probably an experiment in film’s potential as a torture device. This film reminded me of the worst experience of my life in quite a strong manner. That was more than enough to give me an unbelievably bad day, for sure. Later that evening, I had already decided not to do any homework for at least the rest of the night, all things considered, yet, somehow, I had this strong, inexplicable desire to be productive. In my strange logic, I figured I could justify doing something so long as it wasn’t homework, after all I was supposedly taking the night off.
Here is the one and only one place where the pachitope has anything to do with Nebuchadnezzar: this story took place somewhere in the middle of making my senior film. One day, in my art history class, the professor chose to show us a seriously disturbing film that I still don’t understand, and don’t ever intend to understand—it was probably an experiment in film’s potential as a torture device. This film reminded me of the worst experience of my life in quite a strong manner. That was more than enough to give me an unbelievably bad day, for sure. Later that evening, I had already decided not to do any homework for at least the rest of the night, all things considered, yet, somehow, I had this strong, inexplicable desire to be productive. In my strange logic, I figured I could justify doing something so long as it wasn’t homework, after all I was supposedly taking the night off.
So I sat down at the computer, launched Maya, and within 2 or 3 hours, I had modeled this creature. Again, no plan, no reference, no intention of actually doing anything serious that would ever be worth anything, but God saw something different. (I think there was one sketch that I made during the earlier part of that class that looks like an earlier version of this thing.) I also did fear that I’d never be able to look at this thing without remembering the really bad experience of that day, but, again, God saw something different. The next morning I worked on UV mapping him, and then set him aside. Over the course of my time home for all the holidays (SCAD’s schedule is really awesome, allowing you to go home before Thanksgiving and not getting back in session until after New Year’s), I found him again and resumed this project. I textured him and started rigging him. My professor in my portfolio class saw him among my other work and really took a liking to him. Now, this little unintentional creation is my logo for all the stuff that gets send/shown to prospective employers. So far, I haven’t met one person who doesn’t like this little guy—if you find one let me know. There just seems to be something about him.
So what is the thing that God apparently saw with this pachitope that makes it so special? Well, I can only think of one thing (though it does seem to have some pretty solid appeal from a design standpoint). We all have trials, we all have storms which come and start raging in our lives—storms that, as the disciples thought, are too big to handle—and you’d be right, many of these are God-sized storms. That’s why you need to allow God to come and deal with them. He comes to the front of the boat, says, “Peace be still,” and you can kiss that storm goodbye, even if the tough circumstances themselves still remain. Also, if you belong to Christ, all things work together for your benefit, remember this (Romans 8:28). Had there been no storm for me, I can safely say there would be no pachitope either. We've got to just hold out for all the pachitopes of our trials. And that’s the story of the pachitope.
