Ruffa Sakay's Work | ContraWork by Ruffa Sakay
Ruffa Sakay

Ruffa Sakay

(ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧

New to Contra

Ruffa is ready for their next project!

Followed by Sergey B, GALLERY L, and Jagdish P
From Screen to Something I Can Hold For the Descript “Teach Us Something” Challenge, I’m sharing a simple creative practice I use whenever I need some time away from the screen: turning a reference photo into a mini doll using pipe-cleaner wire. The idea is simple, but the process has taught me something I keep coming back to: making something physical can help reset my attention, keep me motivated, and spark new creative ideas. In the video, I walk through my actual process—from building the head and body with wire, shaping the arms and legs, and finishing the head, to attaching everything together and creating the clothes, shoes, hair, and final details. I also edited the entire video in Descript. I edited and arranged the clips, edited the audio, used AI Studio Sound to improve the sound quality, added key text instead of full captions so the video of the doll wouldn’t be covered, and added background music to bring everything together. The goal wasn’t to make a Descript tutorial. Instead, I wanted to share one part of my own creative workflow: when I feel like I need a reset, I step away from the screen, work with my hands, and turn an idea into something tangible. It’s a small project, but it gives me a different way to think, create, and come back to the screen with new ideas. 🎥 Finished Video https://share.descript.com/view/rl4pd5eD4V7 🛠️ Descript Project https://web.descript.com/7738bed7-1f20-42b0-969e-93f62f531281/cae09 Created in Descript for the Teach Us Something Challenge. #DescriptChallenge #Descript #CreativeProcess #DIY #Handmade
3
218
THE KEEPER OF WHAT REMAINS I started with Mask (Buk, Krar, or Kara), a Torres Strait Islander ceremonial mask from probably Mabuiag Island, dating to the mid–late 19th century. Made from materials including turtleshell, wood, cassowary feathers, fiber, resin, shell, and paint, the mask is associated with ceremonial traditions and is surmounted by a bird. That bird became my point of departure. I imagined it coming alive and carrying the mask through time. Rather than placing the mask in a single new environment, I built a continuous journey through different works from The Met's collection—moving through sculpture, ancient fresco, historic interiors, Renaissance architecture, landscapes, nineteenth-century painting, Impressionism, Pointillism, photography, and Romantic painting. The bird and mask remain together throughout. They don't change into something else. The world changes around them. The architecture changes. The landscape changes. The light changes. The atmosphere changes. The visual language changes. But the bird continues flying, carrying the same mask from one world into another. That continuity is the heart of the piece. I wanted the journey to feel less like looking at a sequence of artworks and more like passing through centuries of art history in a single uninterrupted movement. The bird stays near the center as the environments transform around it. Each transition is a continuation of its flight rather than a reset, so the viewer is always following the same traveler. The mask becomes the constant. It is carried from one period to the next, through radically different spaces and ways of seeing, until the journey eventually reaches the present. The bird emerges into a museum and approaches Edgar Degas's The Little Fourteen-Year-Old Dancer. It does not transform. It does not disappear. It simply releases the mask. The mask comes to rest on the Little Dancer. That final moment is the reason for the entire journey. For me, the piece became a meditation on how history survives time. We move through different eras. The way we see changes. The environments around us change. Art changes. But some things are carried forward. The bird is the journey. The mask is what remains. ORIGINAL MUSEUM PIECE Mask (Buk, Krar, or Kara) Torres Strait Islander, probably Mabuiag Island Mid–late 19th century The Metropolitan Museum of Art https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/311950 FINAL DESTINATION The Little Fourteen-Year-Old Dancer — Edgar Degas Modeled c. 1878–81 The Metropolitan Museum of Art https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/196439 PUBLIC FLORA CANVAS https://app.flora.ai/join-project/71bb6232-69ae-44cf-989d-21b45ef5e015 ARTWORKS / WORLDS REFERENCES Antonio Canova — Perseus with the Head of Medusa Cubiculum from the Villa of P. Fannius Synistor at Boscoreale Bedroom from the Palazzo Sagredo, Venice Worsham-Rockefeller Dressing Room Platter, follower of Bernard Palissy Boiserie from the Hôtel de Cabris, Grasse Patio from the Castle of Vélez Blanco Albert Bierstadt — The Rocky Mountains, Lander's Peak Winslow Homer — The Veteran in a New Field Thomas Eakins — Max Schmitt in a Single Scull William Merritt Chase — At the Seaside George Caleb Bingham — Fur Traders Descending the Missouri Martin Johnson Heade — Approaching Thunder Storm Vincent van Gogh — Wheatfield with Cypresses Georges Seurat — A Sunday on La Grande Jatte study/version Gustave Le Gray — The Great Wave, Sète J. M. W. Turner — Whalers / The Whale Ship
2
195
THE BODY THAT COULDN’T ESCAPE MUSEUM PIECE DESCRIPTION Egon Schiele’s Self-Portrait (1911) is a watercolor, graphite, and gouache work on paper depicting the artist in a tense, angular pose suggestive of the crucified Christ. His bony, distorted figure, wild eyes, open mouth, raised hair, and agitated pencil lines create a powerful sense of inner tension. The Met describes Schiele’s self-portraits from this period as psychologically complex images. Original artwork — The Metropolitan Museum of Art: https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/483438 MY REIMAGINING The painting is not simply being drawn. It is struggling to exist. I reimagined Schiele’s Self-Portrait as a 20-second experimental 2D animation about anxiety, internal pressure, and the feeling of being trapped inside your own body and image. The animation begins with an empty beige sheet. A nervous pencil stroke appears, followed by frantic graphite and charcoal marks. A fragment of the figure emerges, disappears, and is redrawn. An arm appears, vanishes, returns differently. A shoulder forms and is erased. A torso emerges and collapses back into scribbles. A face flashes into existence. An eye appears, disappears, and returns. The figure repeatedly becomes more recognizable and then less recognizable. Appear → disappear → erase → redraw → distort → repeat. The man is already alive before he is fully formed. Even during the construction phase, he twitches, shifts, reaches, recoils, and struggles against the drawing around him. Color slowly infiltrates the graphite: faint orange and red watercolor becomes warmer flesh tones, burnt orange, reddish brown, and darker accents. The original visual language gradually takes over without ever becoming clean or stable. At around ten seconds, the figure finally becomes whole. But that is not the resolution. Once complete, the man begins moving. His head, shoulders, torso, arms, and hands shift nervously. He reaches toward the viewer and recoils, creating a subtle 2.5D sensation while remaining entirely hand-drawn. His movement generates new graphite, charcoal, chalk, and watercolor marks, and the same cycle of appearance, disappearance, and redraw returns inside the completed image. The movement becomes increasingly frantic. The figure looks desperate to scream, to escape his own outline, to break through the surface of the painting. At the climax, his body stretches outward, the marks become chaotic, and the image feels like it is about to explode under unbearable internal pressure. But it never actually explodes. The pressure is held back. The figure freezes at maximum tension. Then, in a hard cut, everything disappears. Blank beige paper. And the first nervous mark begins again. The anxiety never resolves. The painting is condemned to recreate itself over and over. PROCESS I built the piece in FLORA through an iterative process of rapid drawing, erasure, redrawing, movement, watercolor layering, and visual distortion. The central creative decision was to change how the artwork exists in time rather than simply animating the finished painting. The act of forming and destroying the image becomes part of the emotional narrative. FLORA Project https://app.flora.ai/join-project/0a241fd1-276a-433a-be60-02c4cb762932
2
193
DOUBLE TROUBLE Somewhere between directing a short film and arguing with an AI, I learned that more control does not always mean more control. For the CapCut × Contra Seedance 2.5 30-Second Cinematic Video Challenge, I wanted to make a one-take thriller built around a simple idea: an apparently harmless old man walks into an active bank robbery, keeps moving like nothing is happening, and quietly turns out to be much more dangerous than he looks. The first version was heavily engineered. Character sheets, keyframes, storyboard, detailed choreography, reference images, long prompt. It sounded disciplined, but the result was the opposite. The references started competing with each other, transitions became less natural, and the pacing drifted. So I stripped it back. I removed the storyboard and keyframes, kept only the references that were actually doing useful work, and made the video prompt much more focused. The result immediately felt freer and more cinematic. It still had imperfections, but it also had something the heavily controlled version didn't: room for Seedance to interpret the scene. That became the real experiment. For the final attempt, I kept the streamlined reference setup but focused on one thing: making the story progression clear without trying to choreograph every microscopic movement. The robbery, the three escalating encounters, the punch, the physical prosthetic reveal, and the final beat all needed to read as one continuous piece of storytelling. The biggest lesson was simple: Less is not necessarily less control. Sometimes it is better control. A prompt can describe everything and still make the model lose the story. The better approach was deciding which details actually mattered, locking those down, and leaving enough room for the model to make the sequence feel alive. The final film was generated with Seedance 2.5 in CapCut Video Studio. The reference images were created separately in ChatGPT, and Claude was used throughout the workflow for planning, critique, prompt iteration, and reconciliation. I also made a separate workflow video explaining the process and what changed between the attempts. The biggest surprise was not the final image quality. It was realizing that the strongest version came from removing things rather than adding them. 📹Created with: CapCut Video Studio + Seedance 2.5 🎞️Workflow: ChatGPT for references, Claude for planning/critique, Seedance 2.5 for the final film 🎬CapCut project link https://www.capcut.com/ai-creator/studio?draftId=27120454916 🎥CapCut submission entry link https://www.capcut.com/sv2/ZS9ks15mFHx1Y-uE2ow/ 🪄Original prompt + workflow: included in the comments below. #contraseedancechallenge #CapCutCPP #AIFilm
1
2
232