Tuesday, April 23, 2013

Tangible memories

I recently had a colleague who was doing some planning for the baby he and his wife were about to have. One of the things that they were doing was choosing books to read to their new addition to the family. He made the statement, "I should just buy all the books on my iPad. It would make things much easier.".

I'm not sure why I rejected such a thing so violently (inwardly, I didn't say anything to the guy about it). But there was something entrenched inside of me that reeled at the thought of not having an actual physical copy of the books. I tried to figure out why I would feel this way. I mean, I own a Kindle and love it. So why such a visceral reaction to someone getting baby books on their iPad? Was I just romanticizing the importance of a physical book?

I remember my parents reading to me when I was little. Some of the books were tall, with shiny covers, and smooth pages. Others were squatty and square. Some covers were thick, others were thin. And I loved the books were you could pull on tabs and flip things over to see what was underneath. There was something about that tangibility that made these moments in my life memorable, up to even now.

About two years ago, I got a Christmas present from my father. It was a book called Chester. All I really remember was that Chester was a horse. I don't recall the story at all. What I recall the most was that it was the story that my dad read to me all the time. So much so that I had the entire story memorized. I knew all the words and knew when to turn the page without being told. I almost tricked my dad into thinking that I was able to read (according to my parents). However that farce was blown when I started ad libing in some synonyms. I just don't think you can recreate that with a virtual book. What can you give your child 10,15,20 years later to make them remember those times?

Maybe I'm wrong. Perhaps you don't need a physical object to attach your memories too. But I just think there is something to be said about having it. About running to the shelf and picking out your favorite book. Remembering what it felt like in your fingers, turning the pages while you sit next whomever is reading to you. About looking at the physical stack of memories that are going to last forever. I like the idea of that much more than the convenience of storing everything away in an intangible virtual cloud. I also, I like the idea of when I have a child, them sitting next to my father and hearing about Chester from the same book that I had when I was their age. But again, this just might be me romanticizing. 

Monday, April 22, 2013

Thoughts, I have them

I must admit, I am just a bit envious of people who can sit down and write every single day. I feel like there just isn't enough inside of me to be constantly pouring out things on paper. After a while, everything in my head goes silent and there is not a interesting thing left. Then I thought, maybe it is because I have so little experiences left to pull from in order to keep the creativity going.

Honestly, some of my best inspirations come from moments in my life. Some are huge moments and others are mundane and simplistic. But they all hold that possibility of being the spark that I need in order to write something that I like. In college, I used to take these long walks and just let my mind roam. Sometimes I went with friends, sometimes I went alone. I can't say anything overly exciting ever happened on any of these walks, but there were so many moments, it just caused me to write all the time.

But I don't really do that all that much any more. I spend most of my time indoors, away from the rest of the world that is happening outside. And those "moments" are less and less. I feel like my writing has become repetitive and predictable. It is like I am hammering away at the same theme over and over. But I don't really know what else to do. And then there are times when I don't have a single idea in my head. There is nothing to write, because I have dreamt up nothing. And so the blank page just sits for months at a time.

I think I am going to start going back out again, experiencing the world that is outside of the 4 walls that I am constantly barricading myself in. Maybe then, new and interesting things will come to me and I will write more. And if not, at least I will be having fun.

Thursday, April 11, 2013

Anxiety, you aren't helping

Why is it that when I try something new and put myself out there, that it terrifies me? And I don't mean that as a figure of speech. I actually get very very anxious to the point I start pacing and I can't think straight.

For those who might not know, I got into livestreaming game play a few months ago. First stream was right before Christmas and for the most part it was successful. I streamed a few more times after that, but wasn't really getting that much traction. No one was stopping by and if they did, they didn't stay long. It was mostly just me and Pandora, hanging out with 1 or 2 people sitting in chat. A short time past, my life started getting hectic once again and streaming got put on the back burner. I thought about going back to it. But every time I thought about it, I didn't see the point. No one wanted to watch me so why try?

Just recently I was gently coerced into returning to it. It seemed that people found (more accurately, they were showed to) my corner of the internet. It was a fun time. I honestly had not expected as many people to show up as did that night. So when it came to streaming last night, I felt like I was trying to trap lightening in a bottle twice. My brain went through all the ways that everything could go wrong and all the disappointment that would come with it. You would think that I was doing something important and not just playing video games. 

I don't understand why stuff like that happens to me. I make such insignificant things into these huge ordeals. And I have been doing it since I was a teenager. It is like my brain decides that I am having way too boring of a day and hits the overdrive switch. I imagine that everyone goes through a little nervousness when stepping out into something different and unknown. But I don't think everyone overthinks and panics the way I do.

The thing is the stream was a disaster. I had so many technical issues that I had no idea how to fix. But the world didn't end. The viewers didn't leave. Even after all the things that went wrong, they called my 2 hour stream too short and wanted more. So all the worrying was for absolutely nothing.

Next time, I am just going to make myself a cup of tea and start playing meditation music when I start feeling anxious.

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

PAX East 2013

I really don't think there are any words that describe what PAX East is aside from 'awesome'. And you can only use that word so many times before people get sick and tired of hearing it. I didn't quite know what to expect several months ago, when I purchased my 3 days pass to this thing. This huge daunting convention in a city I had never visited in order to do something I had never done before. And that uncertainty was only heaped on all the more when I found out that my guides were going to be two guys that I only knew through the internet. I felt like I was breaking every cardinal rule I was taught as a kid when it came to strangers and the world wide web. But all in all, I am so glad that I did it.

I suppose I should talk about all the games I saw, the costumes I took pictures of, the swag I tried to nab, but really that wasn't what left a lasting impression on me after all was said and done. Sure I got to play NeverWinter and Wildstar. I got to see PAX exclusives about Watch Dogs and see RoosterTeeth in person for the first time in my life. And yep, the concerts blew me away and I never wanted to nights to end. But PAX was so much more than that.

Being clustered in a convention center with thousands of strangers, there was still this sense of camaraderie and belonging. Just about everyone was nice (except for when they were hungry or their feet hurt) and I felt included. I was finally in this space where I didn't have to explain myself. Everyone got it. It just felt like riding this wave of connection for the entire weekend and it was a space that I didn't want to leave. It was great. So much energy, so much excitement. People just talked to you for no reason except you were next to them. We clapped for the worst dancers we had ever seen, because they were gutsy enough to play Dance Central, on a stage, in front of everyone. We laughed at each others jokes, while playing our DSes as we waited in line. We were this community of strangers and yet, it felt like nothing could have been farther from the truth.

I am definitely going back next year. I want to try more things, talk to more people, explore every bit of everything that this convention has to offer. Because there is something about what Penny Arcade created when they made PAX and I don't think I will ever get enough of it.