naamahdarling:

howtonotsuckatgamedesign:

mirrepp:

Some harsh but very very true words

When people let me review their portfolios (on career day or open days at my game design school) I explicitly ban them from commenting during the review… …because otherwise they will follow the impulse to downplay everything I see in an attempt at being humble.

"this is an old image…"

"I’m not happy with that one…"

"this is just a sketch…"

"I did this really quickly…"

"there is better stuff on later pages…"

It’s totally understandable to have those impulses. The quality of art is not empirical data and therefore impossible to measure. Good art, bad art, it all comes down to standards. And you don’t want to come off as naive or self-absorbed.

But just don’t do it. Don’t talk yourself down in front of others. In the best case you have someone supportive who now thinks “damn, this person needs to be prepped up all the time. Do I really want to work with somebody like that” or in worst case “now that you say it, yeah, this is kinda lame/rushed/unfinished/lazy, go away.”

You can only submit what you have. If that is not enough, then it’s not enough. Your attitude will not change that. But if it is enough, you can do serious harm by not being confident of who you are now.

This means appreciating what you are able to do right now and have a clear vision of what you want to learn, be confident that you will learn it in time. 

Be proud.




This is really important.  Eliminate this urge.  Eliminate it professionally, when having contact with people in a position to buy your work.  Eliminate it socially, when you just share your work for fun.  Destroy this urge as thoroughly as you possibly can.

Because when you have done that, you’ll find that you feel at least 25% less shitty about your own work.  You lose the urge to do it.  You stop reinforcing those negative thoughts, and they retreat.  They may never go away completely (although they might!) but this is good practice for ignoring those thoughts flat-out.

Don’t shit-talk yourself.  Even if you can’t be SO PROUD, don’t ever try to influence anyone’s opinion toward your work in the negative.

Try to love your work.  Try to see what you learned from each piece, even if it’s a failure.  If you feel that you learned nothing, appreciate the fact that just spending time on it is honing your skills and giving you valuable practice.

i used to be super not-confident in my own work.  When I stopped pointing out the flaws in my own stuff, I felt better about it almost immediately.

Anonymous

Anonymous asked:

"It's a metaphor" I have no doubt that you completely understand and stand by this statement that the act of putting an unlit cigarette in Augustus Waters' mouth is in fact a metaphor. But for some folks, we don't see it asa metaphor, we see it as situational irony, or a simple statement. Please explain how it is a metaphor.

fishingboatproceeds:

Well, a character in a novel saying that something is a metaphor is not the same thing as the author of the novel saying that it’s a metaphor. Gus’s intellectual grasp often exceeds his reach (he calls a monologue a soliloquy, and misuses quite a few of the bigger words in his vocabulary). But I do think the cigarette is a metaphor, albeit a different one for us than it is for him.

Gus’s idea is that the cigarette is a metaphor for illness, and he keeps it unlit and in his mouth as an expression of his power over illness. “You put the killing thing between your teeth but you don’t give it the power to do its killing.” Gus’s thinking here is that HE has the power. This is why he tends to use the cigarette when he’s feeling nervous or powerless. (He’s also using the most famous commercially available carcinogen to make this statement, so obviously there’s a connection there in his mind: Humans can prevent cancer by not smoking; cancer is something we can have power over; your job is not to give cancer the power to kill you; etc.) 

But of course Gus is wrong about all of this, or at least almost all of it. You may have SOME control over whether you die of cancer (you can choose not to smoke), but in most cases humans don’t have control over illness. “You don’t give it the power to do its killing” imagines more agency over illness than we actually have, because in the end much of the fault is in the stars, not in ourselves. So to us, the unlit cigarette is a metaphor for our false perception of control, and our urgent need to feel in control. It’s no coincidence, then, that when Gus’s life is spiraling out of control and he finds himself powerless before fate, he tries (and fails) to buy cigarettes.