locomotive, Lohengrin

Work is massive. I am a locomotive. I feel powerful, strong. I am hauling a lot of mass uphill toward that moment of lighter, easier momentum.

I work, I sleep, I work, I sleep. I work more than I sleep. I only see daylight on the way in. Sometimes it's two or three days between seeing my housemate -- and he's home fulltime with his surgery recovery.

My game designer doesn't even say hello anymore. "Yeah," he says, picking up the phone.

Creating games gives me the same tickly feeling as theatre, in our utter seriousness about playful things. It's like walking through the Seattle Opera rehearsal halls, and seeing the black box as big as a piano case, with white stencilled letters: "LOHENGRIN'S SWAN." Inside that crate IS Lohengrin's Swan -- all 8 feet of carefully built and sewn construction & feathers & mechanics that allow it to "float" around the stage.

There is an opera company in Toronto which rents entire suites of costumes. This is their main business. Operas around the world rent from them. Mounting Cosi Fan Tutti?? No problem; they've got complete costumes for the entire cast & chorus, all you have to do is alterations (and alter back).

Some opera companies build their sets to be rentable. They are designed from the beginning to come apart into shippable-size pieces. We did an entire Don Giovanni on a set from San Francisco, in costumes from Toronto.

I'm talking about opera because I can't talk about my games. But trust me, the details are as strangely logical, and nourishing.