Game Dev and how fun it is

So I started game developing some years ago now.

I first tried Game Boy Studio, which is fucking awesome. It's pretty easy and it looks nice. 

I never mastered it, but I find it charming with its many limits. It makes me think in ways I desperately need to think. All the things I feel like I need to learn are there. 

Of course, I stopped doing games for a while. With uni and a big depressive state and a crisis that I still haven't gotten over. It's still quite difficult to sit down and actually do something. 

My first "game" was just a character walking around and interacting with the walls. It's a good game. I like it a lot. I learned a lot from it. Mostly that I can actually do something, I can make a character move and interact. 

I know it might seem like something so small and useless. But it's my first game and I love it. 

The second one is a fan game of Jonathan Sims from The Magnus Archives becoming a catboy. 

The game I want to make is just a talking game. One where you approach the characters and they tell you weird shit. I want to make it so badly. I keep worshipping it. And recently I lost all my progress on it because of a computer malfunction. 

Calling it progress is a lot thought. It wasn't progress. It was art. Art that I wasn't going to use because it has no meaning in the rest of the story. Now that I lost it all I understand. I need to make it shorter. I need to make it tiny and cozy and strange. But all the time I passed doing art wasn't it. 

I need to focus on a thing and do it properly. It's funny how that works. I have a map, I have a design. But the dialogue always evades me. 

I don't know how people talk. I don't know how character talk. 

I'm more of a narrative guy. I like the prose. I could make it that way, but the kind of game I like needs talking. Actual voices for my beloved characters. 

Most recently I started a game jam. I mean, I'm participating in a game jam. About trans representation. And I'm loving making my game. It makes me happy to see the things I code appear in the screen. I think is wonderful. I love it so much. 

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Something about plants

I just wanted to keep some of my thoughts about plants somewhere. Maybe a single post just to start on a big rant I have deep in my heart. Mostly because I love plants. 

They are one of those things that you don't think about too much, but notice when they're gone. 

I honestly didn't notice how many plants my life always had until moved and there were none. 

My grandma had forget-me-nots and a big tree with a swing. I used to pass plenty of days at her house, and I used to sit in the backyard playing surrounded by beautiful bushes and pots and planted things. It was wonderful. 

I miss when her house looked like that. I understand why they changed it. But there's always something nostalgic about forget-me-nots now. I look at them and I think of my grandma. About her walls covered in crawling vines. About hours in that swing. The flowers instructed me well. 

My other grandma had herbs in her yard. So many of them. My family always used them for drinks. She still has many plants, but we don't take herbs from her yard anymore. 

And then there's my grandaunt house. When used to have a tree where I played store. Sold stuff that hung from it's small dry branches. 

She also had bushes and fruit trees and flowers and so much space. I used to pass hours decorating sand cakes with all kinds of little fruits, flowers and leaves. I used to play in the grass and watch chicken. 

Now I can't. The space is not big enough. But that's fair. Things happened. She doesn't need so much anymore. But the plants are still around. A couple of trees, hundreds of pots with different plants in them. The bushes. I'll forever remember those bushes. I'll forever remember the hours decorating with their fruits. 

My dad's sister lives in a house with so many fruit trees. Roses and flowers at the top of a hill. 

My great grandma had citrus plants all over her yard. We harvested them often. She had grape vines giving her shade besides her house. She taught me how to tenderize a lemon so it would give more juice. 

There's also the house of a family friend. The yard was HUGE. Full of trees. It looked magical. I liked being close to the house. There was a weird plant there, with beautiful transparent fruits. Non edible. They were the size of my finger pads and I liked to squish them until their little seed popped out. I had to much fun squishing things back then. Maybe I still would enjoy that if I could find that plant again. 

I can't keep talking about plants and pretend my parents didn't do anything. They were my biggest connection with them. They still are if I'm being honest. 

Both of them work with them. Seeing if they are sick and fixing them. We went to the countryside a lot because of this. I looked at all kinds of crops. It was awesome. 

In my old house I remember tall bushes covered in flowers and trees with colorful leaves. We even had a peach tree that gave green peaches that were always eaten by worms so we couldn't harvest them. My mom sent me to cut roses every now and then and it was always itchy. 

Then we moved, and we had a big tree behind the house, and one on front. The one in the front went first. It was in the way of a wall they were making. Afterwards my dad planted sunflowers once. Then my mom planted bushes and palm trees. She kept adding pots and bushes and cacti and so much more. I go outside and I smell flowers in spring. 

The tree in the back went recently. It was too tall and too dangerous. I still miss it. But it's not that big of a deal. My mom has three new trees in it's place. We also have a lemon tree. It used to be so small. The whole backyard is green and beautiful. 

Maybe that's why when I moved I bought a couple succulents and sat them on my window. Maybe that's why I drew and painted leaves and flowers for my college projects. 

I think plants are wonderful. 

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Why a Blogger Page?

So, I've been thinking a lot, about my projects, about my life. 

And I realized I have a lot to say, a lot I want to keep somewhere. And not in the back of my notes app, but actually somewhere where I can feel I'm not just talking at the air. 

And maybe this is the worst place, because nobody is here. But I wanted to have it somewhere where it can be found. 

As much as I love the idea of the unknown artist that is only recognized in their death. I don't want to be them. I want to write it down. I want my words to be there when I'm there. 

And I want to show people what I can do. I wanna be seen. 

continue reading Why a Blogger Page?