About Myself

I am an Animator, Writer/Director, 3D artist, Games & Graphic Designer.
In the beginning, my main focus was animation, specifically character animation, in 3D. By 2005, after years of working in game-design and interactive, I attended a leading film-school and graduated as a writer / director.
Shortly before that, I became an indipendant visual content artist. I focus mainly on video and animation, but cover other subjects as well. I’m an Adobe Certified Expert on Premiere pro. On my spare time I always look for creative projects, and have a soft spot for dying arts with a twist… 馃檪
Film graduate on Minshar for Art College / B.A in Arts and Humanities
Adobe Certified Expert on Premiere pro.

Since 2003: ‘Michal Vaynes – Visual Content’
My independent studio for Visual Content (including graphic design, 3d art, animation and video projects).
Head of Video department on Mentor College where I lecture, and also lecture on assorted colleges such as Shenkar college, Wizzo Haifa, Bazalel, Weizmann Institution, and other private and commercial studios..
I also published 2 Hebrew manual books on Premiere Pro, which are available for purchase on Mentor website, where I also publish proffisional articles on the blog section. .


The potion of oblivion is bottled in my head,聽

But I can't find my corkscrew-

So I still feel slightly dead.


Through the lucidity of darkness

I never felt your words,

Creeping in silent righteousness

Along my icy floor鈥

And when their teeth sank in my throat

I couldn鈥檛 help but smile-

For adulthood is a steel coat

Worn by my inner child.聽


somewhere outside this wall and four floors down
the world keeps moving without a pause.
and here inside it鈥檚 almost dark,
on the bedroom floor I鈥檓 stark.
my heart burnt a hole in my body and fell -
chest, mattress, carpet, floor鈥
a scorched canal between the springs
and from the carpet some sparks stream.
I鈥檓 empty and lost like the glass on my dresser,
reaching towards the throbbing coal underneath.
I need an anti-burn ointment,
I need to see it through.
I need to master disappointment.
and maybe I need a new mattress too鈥


with a wounded breath
bursting quietly at night,
while the moon is creeping in the sky,
anxiety and darkness
rolled up in summer sheets,
on the windowsill a cricket chirping high.

and I recall in clarity
how the barbwire stung
when surviving him caused me to lose my feet.
when my spirit sinking
sometimes late at night
all the scratch marks are my proof of his defeat.

my heart is scarred but I鈥檓 complete.


My god is a vindictive woman.

I am not preaching here.

She doesn't require

Any love or admire-

She only requires fear.

She talk to me sometimes,聽

At nights,

She doesn't require my faith.

Only my open mind in clear sight

When life throws me in a debate.

My god is kindly cruel,

Reflected through my private art.

Never allowing me to play the fool,

Lose my control or fall apart.

My god is in my mirror daily,

But I need her to torture me sweetly.

Because she never judge me聽

When she show me myself,

And I understand her completely.


Last night I opened my heart

And all my emotions flew off the chart

Over drenched regret on the past.

This morning, when I opened my eyes,

All the colors around me scattered like flies

And crashed on the window of trust.

In the afternoon I opened my ears,

And finally, words simply melted to tears

Due to exceptional just.

Tonight I am planning to open my window

Unless my screams of laughter will just burst the glass -

Because I am free at last.


When weakness rules-
She is the queen.
Her smile is harmless.
Her eyes are green.
She whispers in the ears of those
Who envy you without a cause.
She can impose them to charm you,
But when you trust them- they'll harm you,
And though you have seen her before,
Now you are hurt and can't ignore.
So let me give you an advice:
You are the one who rolls the dice,
You're kind, you're wise, you're in control,
And if you smile- she'll kill them all鈥


The owner of this dimly land
is giving me a space,
to bury who I have become
and who I was, with grace.
I saw her footsteps on the roof,
on windowsills at night.
and followed her humble, aloof,
and kept my heart in sight.
I didn't learn her name was Hope
or saw her leather boots,
until I hanged down on a rope
my memory from its roots.
Put my defenses on the shelf
is painful but is wise,
if I'm to try these boots myself
and hope will match my size.


We got out of our cloths as if it were on fire,
the twirls in my mind became hours of peace.
The night turned to day between sleep and desire,
then I got back to surface from oblivious abyss,
only to find that I am still alone,
locked in the most private room of my soul.
Exhilarating hours became cold walls of stone,
keeping me silent and empty.
That's all.


We strolled on shores of 'get to know you'
Back and forth one night,
And learned the differences and similarities at sight.
And I wonder,
How come look or smile drives heart and soul to kiss,
And yet can't chase my demons out
And let me live in peace.

Small wishes
Small wishes

I want your heart
in a cream and mushroom sauce with dill.
I want your eyes
in my multifocal glasses gaze.
I want your lips
stuck to my neck with superglue seal.
I want your hands
sawn to my shoulders with nylon threads.
I want your feet
kissing my own feet like magnets.
I want your ears
kept in my pocket for bad days.
I want your hug
folded small till the moment of truth.
I want all of you
wanting me back the same way too.


4 days before the trial.
My heart sat in its jail,
And waited for my mind
To find the loophole for its bail.
Negligent as can be
I watched it from the far,
Cause smiles can soften even
The hardest truth of all,
And when convicted later
Still smiling behind bars,
I took my mind to dinner
While fire caught my soul.


Lately I'm feeling like a lost toy,
Someone's been playing me for a laugh.
I seem to forget how to enjoy
And my monsters just can't get enough.


Red wine

Dims the sound of my memory bubbles


On the windshield of my


To count the time.


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