the Blue City

“What god do you pursue in cities? Do you see him, briefly, from inside a moving tram? There – is that his name, those spray paint letters? Is that him, broken, crazy, speaking tongues? There, is that him? Can you demonstrate? Can you mouth or call his unsaid...

I create my own perfection…

“Dear Diary…” Today, I wrote a game pitch about Medusa. Medusa, who understands what is happening to her, who knows that Perseus is coming, who sees clearly and cannot be seen. She must sneak her sisters safely out of a post-Mythical metropolis,...

The Garden of Forking Paths

If anything, I am probably an ideator… [1] …which is really just a kind way of admitting that I rarely complete anything I set out to accomplish.   You see it in this orphaned blog, just as you would see it in the reams of sketches, references and...

This is Red Fox Country

Some days are like Cold War spy thrillers. You find yourself peeking down corridors out of the corners of your eyes. Every habits seems like dangerous patterns, a weakness for banality to exploit. Constellations of predictable coordinates grid-line your everyday life,...