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The Blog

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compass

Winter was a difficult time for me, this year. I was unemployed and in a pretty isolated living situation (in a cabin, up a mountain, surrounded by heavy snowfall, without a driver’s license). My game design energies oscillated from frenetic to exasperated, but just couldn’t find a balanced resting place.

Spring brought with it a lot of hope and opportunity. But unexamined hope and opportunity bring with them their own mania, if you’re not careful. I was dreaming big, but still hitting that blank page syndrome that I’d experienced in winter. The gap between my vision and my practice was widening.

So I made a pact with myself, one that turned out to be a really good one. If I sat down to my computer, or to the table with a notebook in hand… if I wasn’t actually writing and creating within five minutes, I’d get up and do something physical instead.  I cleaned my room. I went through everything I owned and got rid of a bunch of stuff; Salvation Army received an entire car-load of donations from me. I started a garden. I expanded the garden. I expanded the garden again. That garden’s now growing squash, pumpkins, zucchini, two types of beets, radishes, carrots, two types of cucumbers, lettuce, chard, tomatoes, scotch bonnet peppers, and about 10 herbs.

It was feeling really good to work with my hands, to see tangible results, and to know that I was doing something real and good. I decided that if the inspiration didn’t strike me, I’d just not return to any of my writing and design projects. Indefinitely.

And then something really cool happened. A burning need to continue working on The Quiet Year (my newest project) surfaced. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was important. It was vital.

Other projects have been resurfacing as vital, too. Recently, I published a setting hack for Perfect Unrevised, allowing you to play games set in New Phyrexia (a setting from Magic). It was a fun little afternoon project. It wasn’t something I’d even thought about before that day. But when it arrived in my mind, it felt necessary. It felt vital.

I’ve got a couple observations I’m taking forward, from all this. The first is that it’s easy to burn out without realizing it. This is especially true when all of your projects are similar – all creative design endeavors, or all physical labor endeavors, or all experimental music endeavors. Pulling back from your insular bubble helps you see what’s important and what’s not. Contrast is rejuvenating.

On the topic of rejuvenation, I’ve got two Buried Without Ceremony announcements, of a sort. The first is that I’ve begun talking publicly about The Quiet Year, a game of post-collapse community building. There’s a page for it on this site, and it’s worth checking out.

The second announcement, much more visually obvious at this point, is that I’ve redesigned the look of the site, including making up a new logo. The old one presented some difficulties as a brand logo (difficult to place on a variety of backgrounds, too textured), and I feel like I’ve outgrown the dandelion. So, a rejuvenated look. What do ya think?

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Now is a good time to start writing somewhere new. I want a place to explore a few things which have recently come to dominate a lot of my mental real estate. These things share a lot of common ground: they are all rooted in making the most of experience, they are all tied into shared narrative, they are all about living more intentionally, and they are all underused arts in our society.

The first is shared story creation. Predominantly, this takes the form of story games. Story games are, to me, about a structured exploration of experiences we’ve never had the opportunity for. I’m going to post again soon sharing some more ideas about the roots and the purposes of story games. This notion of shared story creation also takes other forms though. I’m interested in exploring Theatre of the Oppressed, Guerrilla Theatre, and other forms of participationist and activist theatre. Also, things like how we can use storytelling to re-interpret and re-imagine our everyday lives.

The next is still searching for a definitive tag, but I’m interested in rewilding and urban foraging and stepping out of the binding structures that come with civilization. Basically, how do I live in a city (where I want to be) and yet determine the events of my own life (as opposed to being driven by imposed needs, like money and job security, etc). This is tied into urban foraging, scavenging, gardening, guerrilla gardening, activism, working less, squatting and resourcefulness. It’s also tied into how alternate structures alter our understanding of society, and the narrative we collectively and individually form about our existence and our role in the world.

The third is intentional, narrative-grounded communication. I want to learn from my friends who practice/study Nonviolent Communication, I want to continue to explore Appreciative Inquiry facilitation, and I want to look at other methods and approaches to communication which prioritize sharing experience and finding common ground. I am interested in exploring consensus decision-making and other models of representation. I want to explore how different methods of communication can inform our daily activities.

The final thing that I want to explore in this blog is poetry (performance/slam poetry, mostly) and spoken word. Because I like it a lot.

Things to take note of…

Right now, I'm taking pre-orders for Monsterhearts, via an IndieGoGo fundraising campaign. Interested in supporting the game and scoring a copy?