Hashtag Sensory Overload

I may be a programmer, but I still consider myself an artistic person. Everything I do, regardless of the inherent rigidity of the framework I'm confined to, I try to do as deliberately and artistically as possible. I make my code elegantly modular; I choose my words carefully and skillfully when writing; I focus on creating a multifaceted experience for my players when I'm wearing my designer's cap. It's all about deeper meaning--subtle complexities that may go unnoticed by many, but appreciated by the few who think similarly to the way I do. I appreciate the little things--every bit of polish that took just one extra moment to perfect, but yet makes all the difference.

I use this metric to separate the good games from the great games--FTL: Advanced Edition, for instance, had so many things that were done right. The developers added new systems and subsystems that further evolve gameplay, as well as made pre-existing gameplay elements even better. Allowing the player to save the crew's stations and send them back to those positions with the touch of a button was a glorious addition to the game, even though it was probably incredibly easy to implement. And making it so that players can easily tell what rooms they'll end up damaging with beam weapons by simply highlighting those rooms? Genius.

But you all already knew how much I appreciate elements of games that were well-executed--at least, I would hope that you do, seeing as that tendency is a crucial part of my game developer's lens. What I wanted to talk about aside from all of the usual "I really love [game] because [reason]" is the kind of art I appreciate--and I use the term "art" loosely here, because some of what I'm about to talk about isn't necessarily even art by the strictest definition, but I believe it can be appreciated as such.

First off, music. We all like music, though some of us have a wider variety of preferences than others. I've noticed lately that I really enjoy music that completely envelops me in sound. I like a loud bass, lots of background synth tracks that you might not even realize are there unless you're listening closely, and rich, full chords. Harmonic ostinatos are encouraged, of course, as they provide for very interesting pieces, but all that really matters to me is that there is always an instrument playing--with the exception of deliberate grand pauses right before the drop.

I've come to realize that this sensory overload would be an appreciated form of spectacle for a lot more than just music, but music is the most successful at pulling it off amongst the things I've experienced so far. The reason I like it so much is probably because it is inherently complex with the same, often-unnoticed subtleties that I appreciate in just about everything else. The result is a whole spectrum of simultaneous experience that leaves the mind reeling in wonderment and awe, seeking to branch out into all the directions that suddenly seem possible. Needless to say, this really gets my creative juices flowing.

To describe the way it feels in one word, I'd have to use the term "magical"--though it does seem a little bit cliché. But you really have to agree that music is essentially magic in how it has the ability to make us experience such a wide spectrum of emotion--even though it's essentially just well-organized noises and sounds.

But enough about music--I'd like to turn the attention of this post to the sky and the cosmos. The sheer power of the weather and the Earth itself is astounding to me, as well as the vastness of everything that lies beyond our small, blue planet. That feeling when there's thunder echoing off of the sky itself--again, being totally enveloped in sound--causes my mind to open up in a similar way to how I described earlier. I love to witness spectacles of nature, which is a trait I definitely got from my mother, who taught me to embrace every thunderstorm that passes through by watching and listening. More than anything, though, I would love to see the Aurora Borealis. I almost got the chance only days ago, but I was unable to see anything due to the geomagnetic activity level being too low for it to be entirely visible from where I am. The idea of seeing the entire sky dance with color and illuminate the landscape just seems like an utterly humbling experience, however, and I want to witness it at least once in my life. To be enveloped in sound is one thing, but for myself and everything around me to be completely enveloped in a rainbow of colors--now that is an experience that's sure to make my creative mind run wild.