I've been interested in Unmanned Aerial Vehicles (UAVs) ever since I did some work at the Air Force Research Laboratory in Mesa, Arizona, where one of the programs was the development of the Predator drone. These pilotless aircraft are flown in dangerous reconnaissance and strike missions in Afghanistan and Pakistan while controlled remotely thousands of miles away. I've always been fascinated by the technology, and wondered what kind of peaceful applications could be possible.

A class of UAVs, called Micro Air Vehicles (MAVs) has been in the news recently. These are tiny aircraft that are being developed to observe hazardous situations that are inaccessible to ground vehicles. Because of the small sizes involved with these machines (some having as little as 15cm wingspans!) one of the challenges with MAVs has been aerodynamic stability. Bird and insect flight has been an inspiration for engineers trying to overcome this, but practical limitations continue to exist.

One bizarre but fascinating variation on MAV development is the "Cyborg Beetle". In this approach (pictured above), various components are deployed directly onto a host insect (a green june beetle, in this case) to in effect "hijack" the insect. A piezoelectric energy harvester converts energy from wing movements to power sensory instruments like cameras and microphones. Additional electricity is gathered from thin-film solar cells as well as a thermoelectric energy harvester which taps the insects body heat. A neural implant allows a human "pilot" to control the insects flight. One could imagine a swarm of these being released into a mine disaster or earthquake relief situation, their tiny sensors relaying information from areas inaccessible to relief workers.

I thought the blending of organic and electrical components in this amazing, yet vaguely disturbing technology would make an interesting technical illustration. Let me know what you think of the rendering, the cyborg beetle technology, or MAVs in general!

Unlike my father, who could not only fix a toaster but managed to construct an airplane in our garage, I'm not much of a handyman. For a technical illustrator who likes to draw mechanical subject matter, I've never been particularly excited about learning how to hang sheet rock or replace the rear struts on the family mini-van. I'm okay with this personality quirk, but unfortunately for me I've had to hire the occasional contractor to get some larger projects completed, and my experiences with these hired hands have varied. I've been relatively lucky with the quality of work these people have executed around the house over the years, but this hasn't always been true for the quality of customer service I've received. I'm beginning to wonder if the inability to be courteous, return phone calls, or show up for work at a given time is a character trait common with contractors, or is there something else going on. You'd think that with the economy in the state that it's in, good customer service would be the least thing a business would provide in order to stand out in today's competitive marketplace.

Recently, I heard what sounded like a gunshot in the middle of the night. After determining that the house wasn't under attack, I discovered that one of the torsion springs on my overhead garage doors had snapped. After doing a little research online, I decided that the fix wasn't too complicated but the time required to do it might not be worth the money saved, and more importantly I didn't want any more "gunfire" waking the kids if I didn't do the installation correctly. I had to find a contractor to do the work.

After making about ten phone calls and getting only three responses to my inquiry I finally arranged to meet with someone. When this person arrived, he could barely look me straight in the eye or listen to what I had to say. He wouldn't provide a quote, and instead offered to "try some springs out" to see if they would work. After I insisted on talking price before any work began, he suddenly threw up his hands, said "I'm outta here!" and stormed away, muttering something about having "thousands of jobs" and "I have no time for this". I was left there with my mouth (and garage door) open, trying to imagine how anyone with such poor interpersonal skills could manage to run a business.

I ended up getting the job done with someone who provided a reasonable quote and completed the work in an efficient manner. I made a point of telling him that I'd recommend him to anyone who asked, and he seemed to greatly appreciate this.

This is how it's supposed to work, isn't it? Sometimes I wonder. Feel free to share any interesting customer service horror stories you have. They can be pretty entertaining.

Despite this, the pictures I saw a friend taking at the beach with his Canon T2i on a recent trip convinced me that the inevitable shoulder injury I'd incur by purchasing one would be worth it. So I went to a local, well-respected camera shop and told the salesman what I wanted. He watched me as I held the camera, likely noticing the slight frown on my face as I turned the bulky gadget in my hands. After describing the reason for my trepidation to him as well as my camera needs, he showed me a Sony NEX-5, which turned out to be a very cool camera and I ended up purchasing one.

This isn't meant to be a product review or an ad for Sony but more a testament to the powerful advances in technology that are going on around us all the time. Without going into technicalities, this camera (and I'm sure other manufacturers are coming out with similar offerings) has an interchangeable lens and employs the same sized image-sensor as a DSLR but is half the size and weight. Through the use of some fancy software magic Sony has produced a relatively small camera that takes very high quality pictures. Obviously it can't compete with higher-end professional cameras and it isn't meant to, but for my needs it does a very nice job. And my shoulder feels fine.

I grew up on Long Island, NY, and I remember the day the British and French Concordes were due to simultaneously arrive at JFK airport for the first time. On my way to school, sure enough, first the British Airways, then the Air France Concorde popped in and out of the clouds overhead, each accompanied by a distinctive guttural shriek that I'd never heard before. I remember they looked like needle-nosed models, their white fuselages stark and quite surreal against the overcast sky. I was incredibly excited and when I got to school I told my Social Studies teacher about it, who casually dismissed my claim (in front of the class) as "highly unlikely", as they would have been flying too high to see at that point of their approach. Anyway, I like to think I was vindicated by the subsequent Concorde appearances over our town that became more commonplace after that.  

I created this vector image of a Concorde some years ago. Looking at it now I think the landing gear interrupts the sinuous curves of the classic delta shape that I love so much, but it was a fun technical illustration anyway.  

Do you have any favorite feats of engineering? I'd love to hear about them.

They're fascinating historical icons nonetheless, and great subject matter for a technical illustrator. I wanted to depict one with its most interesting feature–the spiral staircase–exposed. I based this image on the Cape Canaveral Lighthouse in Florida, which I chose because of its relatively large size and the abundance of reference material available for it, including an original architectural drawing. The side perspective was chosen to provide a clear view of the staircase, and architectural details were kept to a minimum to focus attention on the interior. Let me know what you think!