lotus frog


UFO Unusual Frog Odyssey is a game made by Team Lotus at DigiPen Institute of Technology. This everyone on the team’s first year at DigiPen. Starting production in early January, this game has been a blast to work on. The idea came from a dream that Lisa O'Connor had over Christmas break. I made the video in place of our final presentation.

+ Producer - Rachel Frazier
+ Tech Director - Aaron Damyen
+ Test Manager - Hunter Elofson
+ Product Manager - Daniel Hamilton
+ Design Director - Lisa O'Connor

In addition to primary roles:
+ Art by Lisa O'Connor
+ Graphics and Math by Hunter Elofson
+ Music, FX, and Menu Art by Daniel Hamilton

Special Thanks
+ Maggie Moore for writing help
+ Professor Young for perspective transformation help
+ Professor Justin Chambers for using his likeness
+ Professor Doug Schilling for using his likeness

© 2017 DigiPen, All Rights Reserved.


The Princess and the Frog // TIANA

Love the way this one turned out. 

Interested in getting something drawn for you?? Message me or contact me via facebook @TeraStormTAS / @TeraStormTASart

DAY 3360

Malta                     June 9,  2017                Fri 8:55 PM local time

Age diminishes memory .. that name so familiar not coming to mind at instant .. noticing an element to speak about, forgotten at time of .. move to another room with intent assured, reaching and not knowing why and what you came for .. today’s mind is crowded, crowded with excessive and ready information moving at the speed with which you wish your internet to deliver ..

SO .. memory diminishes all evil that occurred past .. AND .. all good that happened too .. living in oblivion .. living in the moment .. and conveniently not in knowledge of past or present .. what a marvellous state nature brings to us each day .. 

BUT ..

this element that I punch on .. God bless it .. it remembers, records, stores .. that apt substitute to natures calling .. thank you Apple, Microsoft, Android, iOS .. and whatever else is readied to come ..

What did come as a result was this :

1984 December nominated as a candidate to fight an election from home town Allahabad .. and during the course of the one month stay in the city of birth and of great memories, comes that moment among many that take me on deliberation to 17, Clive Road .. a bungalow of immense proportion, but divided by 4 families living as rented rentals in four sections of the address .. the left side of the building was our rented area  .. and these memories never fade away or feel to have been forgotten ..

The above then is the ‘me’ suitably attired in khadi and KP’s , kurta pyjama’s and the traditional shawl draped delicately over the shoulders, almost as an after thought .. and aside to this, I have often wondered how instantly, attending to politics, the members of the community that are now to be addressed as politicos, suddenly and most abruptly change costume to the KP, or the LK - lungi kurta .. and white in colour .. barring a few exceptions of course ! But on that more later, shortly .. !! Shortly ??!! ( a convenient condition I observed as usage from a press interview of a VVIP )

So there I am in the front portion of our section of the rental address observing and reminiscing those days of my years that I most remember ..

A bit about the house first ..

Those 2 bushes that you see behind me were never there .. just by it, was the driveway, that led out to the gate of 17 Clive Road .. there were 2 gates .. the IN and OUT .. but for some reason all the inhabitants of 17, used the IN gate .. the OUT gate then being permanently locked and un opperational ..

so the drive way led up to the house of our section .. and as you see it, there were stairs running the length of the section .. there is an earlier picture of the same visit, of me sitting at the far end of the steps .. so the steps led to a  rather large veranda which ran the length of the rooms you see by the doors .. the facing doors from the left to the right, were the main bedroom, it had two doors, then two more doors that were the drawing room, and at right angled to these doors on the ends were two more doors .. the one on the left was the bathroom .. the one on the right was my Farther’s study, of which he mentions in his autobiography as ‘dashadwaar’ .. ten doors .. for it did actually have 10 openings in that room - 4 doors - one opening to the veranda that I just spoke, one opening to the driveway but not on the stairs, one opening to the drawing room from the inside and one opening to the small veranda on the other side of the house, which was the entry place for the other rentals  - the 3 windows behind the desk of my Father’s working place, in that circular room - and 3 ‘roshandaans’ .. those oblong windows or openings on the ceilings, well not really on the ceiling but an area just above the doors ; i guess for ventilation and for extra light to come into the room .. of those houses of the time ..

The bedroom led to another room at the back which was my room ..  my writing desk my study area, my clothes cupboard, and my separate bath room, which has access from the front as well ..

On those elegant pillars of the veranda hung the national flag on August 15th and the singing of the National Anthem .. on them also hung the large tarpaulin like ‘purdahs’ or curtains to cut out the heat in summer .. the veranda was multi placed .. we played TT on a ‘takhat’ as our TT table, using book covers for bats and the TT balls were authentic .. just two we had, got from our visit to Nepal in 1954, and they were Chinese make .. something that was very rare to possess .. when the ball got crushed accidentally, or was beaten to dents on the round covering forming little wells on the ball, we would put them in hot water, for that would straighten out the ball back in its round shape .. paucity does invent miraculous substitutes ..

The veranda was also the stage on the same ‘takhat’ with bedsheets as curtains, for my homemade impromptu, self written designed and spoken theatre performances ..

The veranda was also our watching gallery, and the steps where we sat and saw, the ‘bandar wala’ the ‘snake charmer’ and the ‘bhaloo wala’ ..yes the owner of the monkey would come and do little shows for money with his pet monkey, the monkey cartwheeling, playing tricks, coming to us to ask for donations .. as also the bear owner .. how the owner would design a fake wrestling match with the bear, make him dance on two feet and on .. 

( you would never be allowed to do that now .. Animal Welfare Organisations would send you to prison )

Wonder what those owners do now that their livelihood has vanished .. !!

Back to where I stand in the picture .. its the lawn .. made maintained to award level each year and lined with the best roses in the city .. all nurtured and produced by Mother and her green fingers .. winning awards for the garden and the flowers each year at the Flower Show at Alfred Park, then , now I think it is named after that great freedom fighter ( see forgotten his name, was there as started to write ) ….ahhh .. got it .. Chandrashekhar Azad .. who sacrificed his life in that garden fighting the British .. 

Alfred Park had that constant with all Parks in those days - an area in the centre of the Park .. round construction with that typical colonial roof and railings, where the Army Band would on Sundays come and play and entertain the visitors .. 

Back to house .. beyond the lawn to the right of picture were more flowers and a row of lemon trees .. and to the left of the garden a vegetable garden .. and by its side the servants quarters ..

The lawn and the pond was significant .. it carried the most elegant lotus plants, large frogs that came out during the rains, and the interiors of the pond used as a colour storage tank for the ‘taysu’ flower colours during Holi  .. the ‘taysu’ are traditional flowers from which traditionally for Holi festival the petals are put in water tanks overnight and the following morning become the most beautiful orange coloured liquid, for spraying on each other .. it had a most distinguished fragrance, which as I write I can smell .. 

Such  wonderful customs for Holi .. and NOW .. a lot of chemical paints .. silver and electric in colour, black painted colours and eggs and baloons for Holi .. aarggh .. just destroyed the special meaning of the festival ..

That lawn was where we played our cricket when Ma was not around .. she hated anyone stepping on the place .. and it was also the region of our birthday parties .. of summer sleeps in the open ..  yes sleeping out ion the open ..gates all open .. doors of the house all open .. no one came no one disturbed .. not a care for security and privacy .. nothing .. it was the most sublime moments !! And when that odd shower would come in the middle of the night, all of us scurrying into the veranda with our own beds .. yes we had to carry our own beds inside .. what fun those moments were .. the entire bed not just the beddings !!!

AND .. as I stand in front of the picture of 17 now .. so much more comes back .. but more of that at a ‘suitable time’ ..

That thin parapet that you see by the stair case was a shed to prevent the rain from coming to the kitchen and dining region more to the left of the picture unseen .. it was my greatest ambition to climb bare feet up that iron pole that rested the parapet .. I did eventually after many attempts .. saw a circus gymnast at the annual Circus in town, on how he climbed a rope without any assistance , just bare feet and tried the same for the pole and got it ..

OH dear .. I have taken too much time and space and writing ..

Good night ..

Amitabh Bachchan  and yes some memories remain forever ..