It’s that time of year again, three months since the last crowdfunding campaign. I’m listening to Creeping of the Gods by The Intangible. It doesn’t matter, I just thought you should know that. I listened to someone very nice talk about game design, and none of it made sense. I tried painting a robot yellow and it came out chalky and orange.
I think I might be wrong. What I make is the only way it could be, and happens as the gods intend it. Every day is a gamble on whether that means anything. Consider: if people stopped buying my work, would I stop making it? How can I answer that question, it’s impossible.
When I’m 86 years old I’ll appear on a talk show. They’ll ask why I scratch my name in the dirt, and where I get my ideas. I’ll think “ah, finally” and die right there on the sofa.