The Language of 3D Motion

The Language of 3D Motion: More Than Just Pretty Pictures

The Language of 3D Motion. Sounds a bit fancy, right? Like something you’d need a decoder ring for? Well, maybe a little bit. But honestly, after spending a solid chunk of my life wrestling with pixels and keyframes, I’ve come to see it exactly like that – a language. It’s how we make static objects or digital characters *do* stuff, and more importantly, how we make that stuff *feel* real, or funny, or sad, or exciting.

Think about it. When you watch an animated movie, or a cool product demo, or even just a little bouncing icon on a website, you’re not just seeing things move. You’re reading a message. A fast zoom might say “ACTION!” A slow, heavy step might say “tired” or “powerful.” A gentle sway might say “calm.” All without a single word.

Years working with this stuff taught me that the technical side – the buttons, the software, the math – is just the grammar. The real magic, the actual *language*, is understanding *why* things move the way they do, and how that movement makes people feel. It’s the difference between a character awkwardly sliding across the floor and one that feels like they have weight, intention, and even a personality, all told through The Language of 3D Motion. It’s not just about hitting play; it’s about telling a story frame by frame.

It’s a skill that takes practice, observation, and a willingness to look at the world differently. You start noticing how a leaf falls, how a cat stretches, how a door handle turns. These aren’t just random movements; they follow rules, physics, and intentions. And that’s the dictionary we use for The Language of 3D Motion.

Understanding the Alphabet: Basic Movement

So, where do you even start learning The Language of 3D Motion? You start with the very basics, the ABCs. In 3D, pretty much everything you see that moves is doing one or a combination of three things: translating, rotating, or scaling.

Translating is just moving something from one place to another. Left, right, up, down, forward, back. Simple slide. Like pushing a coffee cup across a table. In the software, this is usually controlled by changing its position values (X, Y, Z coordinates).

Rotating is spinning something. Around its own center, or around another point. Like a spinning top, a turning wheel, or a character turning their head. This is controlled by rotation values (often called Pitch, Yaw, Roll or X, Y, Z rotation). Getting rotations right is key in The Language of 3D Motion, especially for characters.

Scaling is changing the size of something. Making it bigger or smaller. Like blowing up a balloon or shrinking something with a magic ray gun. Controlled by scale values (again, usually X, Y, Z, though often scaled uniformly). While maybe not as frequently animated as position or rotation for everything, scaled animation can add a lot of punch – like a graphic popping onto the screen.

These three, translate, rotate, and scale, are the fundamental building blocks. Every complex animation, from a character doing a backflip to a complex machine whirring, is built by combining these basic movements over time. Mastering how to control and combine these precisely is the first step in becoming fluent in The Language of 3D Motion.

It sounds easy, but getting them to feel *natural* or *intentional* is where the artistry comes in. A rigid, robotic translation looks fake. A rotation that snaps instantly feels wrong. Scaling something without considering perspective looks weird. It’s the subtle control, the timing and easing we’ll talk about next, that makes these simple actions powerful elements of The Language of 3D Motion.

Speaking with Rhythm: Timing and Pacing

If translate, rotate, and scale are the letters, then timing and pacing are the rhythm and speed of your speech. Imagine saying a sentence super fast versus saying it slowly and deliberately. Same words, totally different feeling, right? It’s the same in animation.

Timing is how long an action takes. How many frames from when something starts moving to when it stops. A fast timing feels energetic, sudden, or light. Slow timing feels heavy, powerful, tired, or deliberate. The number of frames between two key poses dictates the speed. More frames = slower. Fewer frames = faster.

Pacing is the variation in timing *within* a sequence. It’s not just about how fast *one* thing moves, but how different actions relate to each other in time. Does one action happen immediately after another, or is there a pause? That pause, or lack thereof, adds punctuation to The Language of 3D Motion.

Think about a character standing up. If they pop up in just a few frames, they might seem startled or have super strength. If they take many frames, maybe struggling a bit, they feel tired, old, or weak. The timing tells you a huge part of the story about that character’s state or personality.

Getting timing right is crucial. Too fast, and the audience misses what’s happening. Too slow, and they get bored. It has to feel right for the action and the emotion you’re trying to convey. This is where observation helps *a ton*. Watch real people or objects. How fast does a door swing? How long does it take someone to sit down? These real-world timings are ingrained in our brains, and violating them makes 3D motion look fake.

Beyond Linear: The Power of Curves

Just as important as *how long* something takes is *how it gets there*. Most things in the real world don’t just start moving at full speed instantly and stop dead. They speed up and slow down. This is called easing, and it’s absolutely fundamental to natural-looking motion in The Language of 3D Motion.

Easing means accelerating (speeding up) and decelerating (slowing down). An “ease-in” means starting slow and speeding up. An “ease-out” means starting fast and slowing down as it reaches its destination. An “ease-in-and-out” (or just “ease”) means starting slow, speeding up in the middle, and slowing down again at the end.

Why does this matter? Gravity. Friction. Inertia. When you push a box, it doesn’t instantly zoom to top speed; it builds up. When you stop pushing, it doesn’t stop instantly; it slides to a halt. Objects have momentum. Bodies have weight and resistance. Easing replicates this natural physics, making the animation feel grounded and believable.

In 3D software, we control easing using “animation curves” or “graph editors.” This is where you see lines representing the movement over time. A straight line is linear (constant speed – usually looks robotic). Curved lines show speeding up (steep curve) or slowing down (flat curve). Manipulating these curves is like sculpting the motion, giving it nuance and life. A bouncy ball curve looks different from a feather falling curve. Learning to read and shape these curves is like learning the subtle inflections in The Language of 3D Motion.

Getting this wrong is a common pitfall for beginners. Animation that lacks proper easing looks robotic, floaty, or unnatural. Everything moves at a constant, fake-looking speed. Adding even simple eases can dramatically improve the feel and readability of your 3D motion.

Consider a simple door opening. A linear rotation just swings it open mechanically. Add an ease-out, and it swings open quickly but slows gently as it hits the stop – much more natural. Add an ease-in-and-out to a floating object, and it feels like it has a gentle resistance from the air, not just teleporting between points. This subtle control over speed over time is a powerful tool in The Language of 3D Motion toolkit.

Telling Stories: Character and Object Performance

Once you’ve got the basics of movement, timing, and easing down, you can start to make things *perform*. This is especially true for character animation, but applies to any object you want to feel like it has a purpose or personality. This is where The Language of 3D Motion gets really expressive.

Animation legends came up with principles back in the day that are still the backbone of convincing motion. Principles like squash and stretch, anticipation, follow-through, overlapping action, arcs, secondary action, staging, appeal, etc. We won’t dive deep into all of them right now, but let’s touch on a few key ones that really make motion sing.

Weight and Feel

Making something feel heavy or light is crucial. A bowling ball doesn’t bounce like a ping pong ball. A strong person lifting a box moves differently than a weak person struggling with it. How do we show this? Through timing, spacing, and deformation (if it’s a squishy object).

A heavy object takes longer to start moving (more ease-in), moves slower overall (longer timing), and takes longer to stop (more ease-out, potentially with a bounce or settling). When it hits the ground, it might squash slightly (squash and stretch). When lifted, the character might show strain (timing and pose). All these elements, working together in The Language of 3D Motion, communicate “heavy.”

A light object or character moves quickly, changes direction easily, might float or bounce more. If they jump, they feel floaty unless you add quick timing on the lift-off and landing. Conveying weight makes the animation feel grounded and physical. It’s about making the viewer *believe* in the physical properties of the animated world.

It’s not just about making a character look like they’re trying hard; it’s about showing the *effect* of gravity and mass on their body or the object they’re interacting with. This is where observing the real world is paramount. How does *your* body move when you’re tired? How does a heavy door feel when you push it? Recreating those subtle feelings is a core part of this language.

Anticipation and Follow-Through

These two are super important for making actions feel natural and powerful. Anticipation is the preparation for an action. Before you jump, you bend your knees. Before you punch, you pull your arm back. This little movement in the *opposite* direction of the main action winds up the energy and tells the audience something is about to happen. It’s like taking a breath before speaking a crucial sentence in The Language of 3D Motion.

Anticipation makes the main action feel more impactful. Without it, actions feel sudden and weak, like they come from nowhere. It also helps the audience predict what’s coming, making the motion easier to follow and understand. It adds a layer of readability to the animation.

Follow-through is the opposite. It’s the action that continues *after* the main action is completed. When you swing a bat, your body doesn’t stop dead; it continues to rotate. When a character runs and stops, their limbs and clothing might keep moving for a frame or two before settling. Follow-through makes the action feel complete and natural. It shows the inertia and momentum of the character or object.

Things that have follow-through also often have overlapping action. This means different parts of a character or object move at different rates and times. If a character swings their arm, their hand might lag behind slightly, and their sleeve might trail even more. This overlap adds fluidity and realism, making things feel less stiff and more organic. Limbs, hair, clothing, tails – they all tend to overlap the main body’s motion. It’s like different instruments in an orchestra playing slightly staggered notes, creating a richer sound, or in this case, a richer expression in The Language of 3D Motion.

Getting anticipation, follow-through, and overlap right often takes animation from looking “okay” to looking “alive.” It’s a key part of making characters feel like they have weight and substance, and making actions feel energetic and complete. It’s mastering the subtle nuances that make movement believable.

Let’s spend a bit more time on the sheer power of these principles combined, because this is where The Language of 3D Motion really starts to tell a story beyond just showing an action. Consider the simple act of a character picking up an object from a table and putting it into a box. If you animate this linearly, it’s just three steps: reach, grasp, move to box, release. Looks totally fake.

Now, let’s add the language. First, anticipation. The character doesn’t just reach. They might shift their weight slightly, maybe dip their shoulder a bit, gathering energy before extending their arm. This subtle pre-movement tells us they are *intending* to reach. The *amount* of anticipation can tell us if the object is light (small anticipation) or potentially heavy (larger anticipation, more body involvement). Then comes the main action, the reach and grasp. Is it a quick, confident reach? Or a slow, hesitant one? The timing and easing here dictate the feeling. A quick ease-out on the reach feels snappy. A slower ease-in as they approach the object feels careful. As they grasp the object, there might be a slight pause, a moment of recognition or effort, adding punctuation to the motion. Now, moving the object to the box. If the object is perceived as heavy, the character’s entire body posture changes. They might stoop, move slower (timing), and show strain (pose and slight trembling – subtle motion). The movement of the object itself won’t be a straight line; it will follow a gentle arc. Arcs are everywhere in natural motion – a thrown ball, a swinging arm, a bird’s flight path. Objects and limbs tend to move in curved paths, not straight lines, and incorporating these smooth arcs makes animation feel fluid and organic. As the object is placed in the box, there’s the follow-through. The character’s arm doesn’t just freeze; it continues a little past the release point before settling back. If the object was heavy, the character might stand up slowly, adjusting their back, showing residual motion and settling in their body. If the object hitting the box makes a sound, the animation needs to time perfectly with that sound (often the follow-through happens *after* the sound effect, making it feel reactive). Furthermore, consider secondary actions. Maybe the character’s head turns slightly to look at the box first (anticipation). Maybe their other hand adjusts their clothing during the action. These small, additional movements aren’t the main point, but they add layers of believability and personality. If the character has long sleeves, those sleeves will have their own overlapping action, trailing behind the arm’s movement, settling after the arm stops. The more of these principles you weave together – anticipation to set up, arcs for smooth path, varied timing and easing for speed and weight, follow-through and overlap for natural settling, secondary actions for added life – the more convincing and communicative The Language of 3D Motion becomes. It’s this intricate dance of principles, applied thoughtfully to every joint and object, that transforms lifeless models into compelling performers. It’s not just about getting from Point A to Point B; it’s about *how* you get there, and what that journey communicates. This detailed application of principles is why achieving truly high-quality animation is complex and time-consuming, requiring both technical skill and a deep understanding of movement and physics. It’s a constant process of observation, application, and refinement, pushing the boundaries of what you can express solely through motion. The nuances are endless; a slightly faster ease-out, a subtly larger anticipation, a different arc shape – each tiny adjustment can drastically alter the feel and message conveyed by the animation. It’s like choosing just the right word or inflection in spoken language. Getting it just right is what separates good motion from great motion, making The Language of 3D Motion truly speak to the viewer.

The Narrator’s Gaze: Camera Language

In film and animation, the camera isn’t just a recording device; it’s another character, the one showing the audience where to look and how to feel about what they’re seeing. The way the camera moves is a vital part of The Language of 3D Motion.

Basic camera moves have their own “feel” and purpose:

• Pan: Rotating horizontally (like shaking your head “no”). Used to follow action, reveal something new in a scene, or show a wide vista.
• Tilt: Rotating vertically (like nodding your head “yes”). Used to look up at something tall, look down at something small, or reveal vertically.
• Dolly: Moving the camera physically forward or backward. A dolly-in can increase intensity or focus attention. A dolly-out can reveal the scale of a scene or make a character feel isolated.
• Track/Truck: Moving the camera physically sideways (left or right). Used to follow a character moving horizontally, or show parallel action.
• Crane/Boom: Moving the camera physically up or down. A crane-up can make a character feel small or reveal the scope of the environment. A crane-down can feel imposing or focus on a detail.
• Zoom: Changing the lens’s focal length to make the subject appear closer or further away *without* moving the camera’s physical position. A fast zoom can feel sudden or shocking. A slow zoom can build tension. Note: Zooming feels different from dollying because the perspective changes differently.

The *timing* and *easing* of camera moves are just as important as for character motion. A jerky pan feels amateurish. A super smooth, slow dolly can feel dreamlike or suspenseful. A sudden, fast zoom to a character’s face highlights their reaction. The camera’s movement guides the viewer’s eye and influences their emotional response. It’s the invisible storyteller using The Language of 3D Motion to frame the narrative.

A stable, locked-off camera can feel objective or static. A shaky, handheld-style camera can feel immediate, chaotic, or personal. Deciding how the camera moves (or doesn’t move) is a deliberate choice that impacts how the audience experiences the entire piece. It’s the silent commentator, adding meaning and context through its position and motion.Adding Flair: Visual Effects Motion

The Language of 3D Motion isn’t just for characters or solid objects. It’s huge in visual effects (VFX) and motion graphics too. Think about swirling particles, exploding debris, flowing water, fluttering cloth, or dynamic text revealing itself.

Much of this motion is driven by simulations – setting up rules (like gravity, wind, friction) and letting the computer calculate how millions of particles or complex surfaces should move. But even with simulations, there’s often a need to art direct the motion, guiding the simulation or combining it with keyframed animation to get the desired effect. The timing, density, and behavior of particles, the way smoke billows, or how water splashes – all of this is part of The Language of 3D Motion used in effects to convey energy, destruction, atmosphere, or magic.

In motion graphics, text and abstract shapes come alive through movement. A title that slides in with a satisfying ease-out feels clean and professional. Letters that bounce into place with squash and stretch feel playful. Lines that draw themselves on with varying speed can build tension or reveal information deliberately. The motion *is* the message in many cases.

Understanding the principles of timing, easing, overlap, and even anticipation (like a graphic element slightly pulling back before shooting forward) is vital for making VFX and motion graphics feel polished and communicative. They might not be characters with personalities, but their movement still speaks volumes using The Language of 3D Motion.

Whether it’s a realistic explosion or a stylized graphic transition, the effectiveness lies in the quality of the motion. A bad simulation looks fake. A poorly timed text animation is annoying. Getting these details right makes the difference between effects that enhance and effects that distract. It requires the same careful attention to movement principles as animating a character.

Behind the Scenes: The Technical Grammar

Okay, I promised no overly complex jargon, but we have to briefly touch on the scaffolding that makes all this motion possible. While the *artist* focuses on the feel and performance using The Language of 3D Motion, the *rigger* or *technical artist* builds the system that allows for easy and flexible control of the models.

Think of it like the skeleton and muscle system inside a character model. This is called a rig. A good rig has “bones” (joints) that let you rotate limbs realistically, and controls (like handles or sliders) that make animating easier. Instead of moving each individual vertex of a character’s arm, you just rotate the “elbow” control.

Rigs often include fancy setups called constraints or inverse kinematics (IK) that help automate complex movements. For example, with IK on a leg, you can just move the foot control, and the knee and hip will automatically rotate to follow it, making walk cycles way easier. Or a constraint might make one object follow another automatically.

Sometimes, animators or technical artists might even use simple scripting to create repetitive motion or link parameters together. Like making a gear automatically spin when another gear rotates.

Why mention this if we’re focused on the “language”? Because understanding the basic capabilities and limitations of rigs and tools affects *how* you can express yourself. A well-built rig empowers the animator to speak The Language of 3D Motion fluently, allowing them to focus on performance and timing rather than fighting with the technical setup. A bad rig is like trying to speak a language with a stiff jaw and tangled tongue – frustrating and limiting.

So, while you don’t need to be a rigging expert to be a great animator, having a basic grasp of what’s possible under the hood helps you plan your shots and work effectively with the technical artists on your team. It’s knowing the potential of your microphone or writing tools when crafting your spoken or written message.

Speaking to the Heart: Emotion and Intent

This is where The Language of 3D Motion truly shines. It’s not just about physics; it’s about psychology. How do we make an audience *feel* something through motion alone? It’s all in the details.

Consider a character reaching for something. A quick, smooth reach feels confident. A hesitant, jerky reach feels uncertain or scared. A slow, trembling reach feels weak or emotional. Same basic action, but the *quality* of the motion changes everything.

Subtle shifts in weight, eye darts, how quickly or slowly a hand rises, the slump of shoulders, the bounce in a step – these are all part of the non-verbal communication that motion provides. A character standing still isn’t truly still; there might be subtle breathing, weight shifts, or fidgeting that tells us if they’re relaxed, nervous, or impatient. These tiny movements are powerful conveyors of emotion in The Language of 3D Motion.

Even abstract shapes can convey emotion through motion graphics. Fast, sharp movements can feel exciting or aggressive. Slow, flowing movements can feel calm or sad. Organic, slightly wobbly motion feels natural or maybe vulnerable. Geometric, precise motion feels controlled or artificial.

Mastering this aspect of The Language of 3D Motion requires empathy and observation. You need to understand how emotions manifest physically. How does someone look when they’re trying to hide something? How does pure joy look in movement? How about despair?

This is why animators often film themselves acting out scenes or study real-life reference footage. It’s about capturing those genuine, subtle physical cues that tell the audience what’s going on inside a character’s head or heart. It’s about using timing, spacing, pose, and overlap to paint an emotional picture.

Think about the walk cycle of a character. A confident character might have a strong, even stride with chest slightly forward. A shy character might shuffle with shoulders slumped and looking down. An injured character will limp, with uneven timing and weight distribution. All just walking, but the *way* they walk, the motion itself, tells you who they are and how they feel, using the powerful vocabulary of The Language of 3D Motion.

Common Misunderstandings in The Language of 3D Motion

Like any language, there are common errors beginners make that can instantly make the motion look “off.” Recognizing these is a big step in improving your fluency in The Language of 3D Motion.

• Linearitis: Everything moves at a constant speed. No easing, no acceleration or deceleration. Looks completely unnatural and robotic. Real things speed up and slow down!
• Floaty Animation: Actions lack impact and feel weightless. This often happens when anticipation is missing, or the easing is too slow at the beginning and end of an action, making it feel like the object is gliding unrealistically. Timing is key here.
• Stiffness / Lack of Arcs: Limbs and objects move in straight lines instead of smooth curves. Characters look like puppets with joints that only bend rigidly. Adding arcs makes motion organic and pleasing to the eye.
• Pop / Snapping: Poses or movements change instantly without any transition. This breaks the illusion of continuous motion. Everything should transition smoothly unless an instant change is specifically desired for a stylistic reason.
• Lack of Overlap and Follow-Through: Everything stops moving at the exact same time. Hair, clothing, secondary body parts freeze unnaturally when the main action stops. This makes characters look stiff and lifeless.
• Bad Timing: Actions are too fast to read, too slow to be engaging, or don’t match the intended emotion or physics. The timing doesn’t feel right for what’s happening.
• Twin-o-bia: This is when the left and right sides of a symmetrical character or object do the exact same thing at the exact same time. Real people and objects rarely move like this. Even walking involves subtle differences side to side. Adding small offsets in timing and pose breaks this symmetry and adds realism.

Learning to spot these issues in your own work (and others’) is part of developing an eye for good motion. Often, just fixing the timing, adding some easing, and ensuring there are arcs and overlap can dramatically improve an animation. It’s like proofreading your sentence for grammatical errors – it makes the message clear and professional. These aren’t just technical fixes; they are about correcting the grammar of The Language of 3D Motion so it flows correctly.

Overcoming these issues takes practice and diligent observation. It means constantly comparing your animated motion to how things move in the real world or in high-quality animated productions. Don’t be afraid to scrap and redo sections that feel “wrong.” That iterative process is how you refine your understanding and application of The Language of 3D Motion.

Practicing Your Dialect: Learning and Growing

Like any language, you don’t become fluent in The Language of 3D Motion overnight. It takes practice, patience, and a willingness to learn. So, how do you get better?

• Observe the World: This is probably the most important tip. Watch how people move. How animals move. How objects fall. How leaves rustle. Pay attention to the timing, the weight shifts, the anticipation, the follow-through. Your best reference library is the reality around you.
• Study Good Animation: Watch animated movies, shorts, and demos from studios known for great animation. Don’t just watch for the story; watch *how* things move. Try to break down why a particular jump feels powerful or why a character seems nervous just by their posture and slight movements.
• Start Simple: Don’t try to animate a complex fight scene as your first task. Start with a bouncing ball. Seriously. Animating a ball bounce correctly, making it feel heavy, light, rubbery, or deflated, teaches you timing, spacing, squash and stretch, arcs, and easing – almost all the core principles in one simple exercise. Then move to a pendulum swing, a flag waving, a simple character walk cycle. Build up complexity gradually.
• Use Reference: Don’t be afraid to use video reference. Film yourself, find clips online. It’s not cheating; it’s learning. Try to match the key timings and poses you see, then work on adding the nuances.
• Get Feedback: Share your work with others and ask for critique. A fresh pair of eyes can spot issues you missed. Be open to constructive criticism; it’s how you learn and improve your grasp of The Language of 3D Motion.
• Experiment: Try different timings, different easing curves. See how small changes drastically alter the feel of the motion. Play around and discover what works and why.

There are tons of tutorials and resources online covering specific software and animation principles. Use them, but always relate what you’re learning back to the core principles of motion and observation. The software is just the tool; your understanding of movement is the skill.

Think of each animation project as a conversation or a speech. What do you want to say? Who are you saying it to? How should it feel? Answering these questions *before* you start animating will guide your choices about timing, pose, and movement quality, helping you use The Language of 3D Motion effectively.

Looking Ahead: Evolving The Language of 3D Motion

The tools and technology behind 3D motion are always changing. Things like motion capture (recording real actors’ movements and applying them to 3D characters) and procedural animation (using rules or code to generate complex motion, like crowds or natural phenomena) are becoming more common and powerful. Real-time rendering engines mean you can see your animation almost instantly as you work on it, speeding up the process.

Even artificial intelligence is starting to play a role, potentially helping with tasks like generating rough motion or cleaning up data. But here’s the thing: even with all these advanced tools, the fundamental principles of The Language of 3D Motion – timing, weight, anticipation, storytelling through movement – haven’t changed. These tools are just different ways to *create* the motion, but the *rules* of what makes motion feel convincing, emotional, or impactful remain the same because they are based on how *we* perceive and understand the world.

A skilled animator will use motion capture data not just as is, but will refine it, exaggerate it, and layer hand-keyed animation on top to add personality and style. A good procedural setup requires an artist to define the rules and guide the results to ensure the motion looks natural and serves the purpose.

So, while the techniques evolve, the core understanding of The Language of 3D Motion is still the most valuable skill. Learning *why* a movement works is more important than just knowing *how* to press the button that makes it move. The future will likely bring incredible new ways to create motion, but the heart of the art form will still be about breathing life and meaning into pixels through movement. It’s about continuing to speak this visual language in ever more sophisticated ways.

Conclusion: Mastering The Language of 3D Motion

Stepping into the world of 3D motion is like learning a new language. It has its alphabet (translate, rotate, scale), its grammar (timing, easing, arcs), its vocabulary (anticipation, follow-through, overlap, weight), and its ability to tell stories and convey emotion. It takes time, practice, and keen observation, but the payoff is immense.

Being fluent in The Language of 3D Motion allows you to bring characters to life, make objects feel real, guide the viewer’s eye, and add layers of meaning and feeling to any visual project. It’s a skill that blends technical know-how with artistic sensibility, physics with performance.

So, start watching the world around you with new eyes. Pay attention to how things move. Experiment with the tools. Don’t be afraid to make mistakes – they’re part of the learning process. The more you practice, the more natural it will feel, and the more powerfully you’ll be able to communicate using this dynamic visual language.

Ready to dive deeper or see this language in action?

Check out Alasali3D.com and learn more about The Language of 3D Motion.