From my cabin

Not sure how many times you will hear me say this, but here I will say it again: “I’m not really a gamer, in fact I really suck at playing games”.

I’m okay with games that’s about creating stuff at my own pace, but I suck at games that’s all about timing, moving, fighting, combos -- yikes. Perhaps because I’m not very coordinated, or I’m just not that competitive in nature, I’ve never found the motivation or confidence to play through any games that require a lot of control and accuracy. I’ve always been an audience ever since early days when my cousins used to hangout and play Street Fighter or Super Mario together.

I picked up Gris because of the art, and I’m curious to see if it’s a good time to play during this difficult and bizarre time of isolation and mass solitude due to the COVID pandemic.

Very unexpectedly, the 11 hours of playing actually taught me to grow and heal from my own fears of failure. 

The game was quite hard for me at the start. It’s very frustrating as I keep falling off when I need to time my jump, there are places where there seems to be no way out and I’m fully stuck. I was only in the middle of level 1 and I seemed to have been stuck in an impossible puzzle. Surely the game is broken. I was pretty set that I won’t play this game again, it’s my basic stance that I shan’t waste time on any game that is too difficult or “unreasonable”. 

But I kinda wanted to see the rest of the game though, because the scenes I’ve played so far are all so different. I sneaked back the next day, and started a new game from the beginning assuming that’d fix where I had broken the game. I realise that I got through everything much faster but ended up at the same stuck point -- but this time I solved the ”impossible puzzle” after a few try, and that feeling was incredible.

From there I kept going. Although there were so much frustration and so many times I feel utterly stuck, but there’s something about the game that keeps me coming back. It’s not just the taste of victory over a hard challenge was so ever sweet; it’s also because the game has a magic that fuels my curiosity. We think about beautiful game art and sound as “aesthetic”, but in Gris, the mind blowing arts that’s so mesmerising in every scene is what kept me going. The ever unfolding epic beauty gave me an astounding joy as if I’m making some groundbreaking discovery. The changing mechanics and variety of puzzles are also fuelling up sense of discovery. The curiosity it inspires pushes me to try, try and try again, despite the difficulty. 

I also really enjoyed the growth of my character in the game as she gradually adopts new ability, from walking, to running, to jumping, to soaring, to swimming, to diving, to singing -- this feels like growth both literally and metaphorically. It’s interesting to notice the growth in myself during my 11 hours of play too -- I started with so much self doubt (I was certain that I won’t reach the end of the game), and gradually was able to do harder and harder moves with more and more accuracy, solving puzzles that I couldn’t when I first encounter them. There’s a huge sense of accomplishment as I manage something that I thought was hopelessly unattainable.

I feel something inside me was healed, as the game propelled me to learn and grow, and shutter each challenge I encounter. I think that something is my pessimistic view about how things are going to turn out, and my doubt in my own ability to complete the hero’s journey, as the hero.

This surprisingly delightful experience of growth gave me a lot of food for thought on this topic of how video games can influence and coach us in engaging ways that’s unexpectedly effective.

We love staying upstairs in our attic while we are working and staying home. It’s cozy and warm, with wooden panels across the wall, which makes it feel like we are in a tree house. Outside of the window is the tree top of this big apple tree, which is now hanging full with red apples. 

We are pretty much big birds perched up permanently in the middle of this big apple tree, and naturally, we are among other little birds who are regularly here for food and shelter from this big apple tree.

Here are some of the birds we see regularly ranked by frequency:

Brown blackbirds, Black blackbirds, Sparrows, Silver eyes, Tuis, Fantails

They are really busy, most of the time they are here to feed on the apples and worms that live within, but their presence is always felt through their bickering and singing. We can spend ages watching them, it’s like teleporting us to some mountains, without the cold and hardship of actual wilderness.

They bring so much joy, that we set up a bird cam on Zoom, for any of Ian’s workmates to dial in. They haven’t, but they should, especially knowing most of them living small apartments that’s got no view of nature.

She’s not our cat, but she stays at ours.

She’s a gorgeous girl who’s gentle and sweet. 

My boyfriend has never had a mammal pet in his life, so you often see him looking at the cat admiringly, adoringly, but also timidly.

“Look! What’s she doing now?” (most likely licking her paws or sitting still) “She’s sleeping so much, is that normal?” “She’s stretching so long, is she okay?” 

We love to sneak up behind the couch, and watch her sleeping in a curled up circle. If she wakes up with a mew, or flex her claws, or do a “floop” (flip her body around), we simultaneously sigh out an admirable “awww”, that’s clearly enchanted.

I’m much rougher with the cat, and I like when she snuggles up, lean her little body against me, brushing my arm with her bushy tail. Sometimes she’d be so comfortable, or shall I say so entitled, as to letting half of half of her body hanging in my hands (with fingers weaved like a net), and expects me to hold her there without moving a muscle like a hammock.

We are glad to spend so much time with our cat friend at home. We know she’s loving all the attention as well.

There is a real joy in the sound and rhythem of music. It’s therapeutic.

Most of the time we listen to a recording. Which can be very nice, with a level of polish and completeness that we take for granted.

But I think the more therapeutic kind is the one that is interactive. The sounds are created and unfolding in real time, every note negotiates with the next, you have no clue where it goes next. Most importantly, the sounds responds to you, your feeling, the tension you experience, the person you are in that moment. This musical experience only exists in real time, guiding you from this moment you are in, to the state of mind you hope to have. 

I don’t know anything about music. But I do enjoy playing a few notes on a piano, even just continuously playing chords that I learned. It has a real pleasure and calmness like the ocean wave.

People bring flowers when they visit someone not feeling well, or is in hospital. I guess they are a gesture or symbol of bringing beauty, and life to someone.

I bought some this weekend. They are golden and fluffy, looking a bit like pom pom but I know they are actually chrysanthemum -- which is even better as they are supposed to be able to last for a long time.

There is something very inspiring and comforting about them: they are so brightly spirited. Maybe that helps cheer us humans up.

IIt’s a tough time with a lot of anxiety. We are all staying in, and trapped in our bubble of thoughts and worries.

If only we could go outside, for a little walk in the mountains. Breathing in the fresh air, hearing some bird songs, feeling the waves of shimmering tree top in the wind... perhaps stare into the distance where there is a beautiful meadow with little wild flowers, or sit by a pond with water that’s tranquil but full of life.

I am so glad that there is just the game that captures exactly that experience for us.

It’s a short game about getting lost in the woods, and perhaps temporarily let go of your worries. You are this little bird who goes to the mountains for a short holiday, and from there explores the mountain, and meets people in this gorgeous little world. The mood is slightly melancholy, just like us now. 

The game has a simple and abstract visual style, yet it somehow very accurately captures the essence of being in the mountains. Perhaps through the gentle movement of trees, vibrant autumn colours, surprisingly detailed depiction of travelling wind and flowing water. This is really poetic, much like an impressionistic painting of nature and the experience getting lost within it.

Thematically, the game explores something that is very human and humble. Sometimes we can’t solve all the problems, but we are only human. It’s okay and you are okay to go on living, while we are processing all our feelings and make sense of it all. Maybe getting inspired by beauty, and getting lost in nature is what is going to nurture our spirit in troubled times.

So if you are feeling anxious, or just sick of being confined -- I recommend that you take a Short Hike.

A painting like game where you are an old lady in your remote little farm. What you didn’t know as you work day in and day out is that the world outside is going through a dark time. 

What an interesting comment in how we sometimes live in our own bubbles, and one day we realise the world has changed.

It was probably meant to be carsathase -- you are supposed to wake up and feeling a narrow escape. It’s an empathy experience as well, for us who are busy with our own lives (everyday is peaceful and believes it would go on likes this forever) to live in the shoes of those who had their world suddenly turned upside down.

I’ve got myself this tea set for making green tea a while back. I made tea with this set once, but honestly, it didn’t taste like much so day in day out, I’ve been sticking with my English Breakfast tea bags.

I took it out, and started to make tea with it this weekend, because I simply had time to be curious.

So this is how you make tea with a set like this. Start with one scoop of green tea in the pot, and then use hot water to “rinse” your tea, and then use that tea water to warm your tea set. After that, you can top your tea pot up, and let your tea brew for a little moment.

When you feel the tea is ready, just pour a small amount into your little cup (should be rinsed and warmed from earlier). 

Pick up the wee tea cup, have a smell of the tea -- it’s fresh sentend, which always remind me of dewing grass in the morning, or bamboo after some spring shower. Take a sip of your tea -- if you are impatient like me, it’s probably quite light at this stage and really hot -- but you should feel the sweetness on the tip of your tongue. 

I wait until the tea gets less hot, or just warm enough to drink like a bone broth, and take a bigger sip. The fragrant and warming tealeaf goodness coats my taste buds and runs through brain, it’s comforting and delicately delicious.

I top up the tea pot for every cup that I pour, so it’s always slightly full. You never drain your teapot, the tealeaves should always be submerged as it’s still brewing.

The tea goes on for a whole day, with a lot of delightful variation in taste depending on the temperature water you top it up with, and how long it’s been steeping.