November Rain

Drops of water trickled down my brow as I kept my head above the surface, but something was amiss. Certain drops felt like they bore a greater velocity than the others, as I turned my face skyward in question, only to be answerd by the gentle drops of water that fell upon my cheeks.

I smiled silently to myself, wondering when was the last time I felt like this - the last time that I could stand in the rain, with a sense of reckless abandon, not caring if I had to get my clothes dry, or if I would catch a cold or the like. And yet, the situation I was in naturally lent itself to me being able to afford such recklessness... if only for a while.

The drizzle slowly started to intensify, as I submerged more of my body below the water's surface, minimizing the contact from the droplets that rained from above. At the new level of sight that I had obtained, I saw a slightly captivating sight, as each rain drop that hit the water's surface caused a ripple in its wake and bounced off in arcs in 4 different directions, causing subsequent ripples and multiplying themselves into another 4 after that.

I kept my gaze fixated on the water's surface, enjoying the nimble movements of nature's dance that played out before me, but in truth, I was probably staring harder into the void that laid beyond these dancers. It had been too long since I could afford to feel this way, to just take some time off and enjoy the littler things, to be able to cast my mind into the open sea and simply allow it to drift, not having to worry about the next thing to do, the next problem to be fixed, or the next task at hand... it had been too long since I'd given myself anytime to breathe, in fact.

I propelled myself forward and dived towards the surface of the pool, keeping my entire body sheltered from the ever-increasing velocity of the raindrops that fell from above. The sounds of raindrops heard through the distortion of the medium resulted in an oddly rhythmic and soothing tune, as I continued to hide myself from the rain.

I emerged near her feet, and took a glance at her face, only to see that she had similar thoughts on her mind.

"Don't you just love this feeling?" I asked her.

"Yes," she said, "I used to enjoy walking home in the rain in the past."

I smiled as I bent over to kiss her, but just as my lips were almost upon her's, a bright flash filled the sky, cutting short our little act of romance.

"I think that's our cue to get out of here," I told her, as I hurried her to the edge of the pool.

Ephemeral perhaps, but liberating nonetheless.

- When was the Last Time you Walked in the Rain? -

  

Consumed by that which Burns within You...

Earlier in the week, my posted Facebook status was:

"Jeremy Kang finds it a tad ironic that working in the Games Industry curbs his gaming addiction."

And this has probably got to be the oddest thing, as while I used to HAVE to play once at least every 48 hours (most of the time it was 24), these days I only find myself doing nothing save for work and sleep.

While of course, it is debatable that my work is play (my own game at least), but there's a different between playtest and simply just play, and little by little, I cannot help but feel that the fire that burns within me is slowly consuming me, for better or worse, very probably worse.

It's quite a bit of a contradiction, as I don't think I've ever felt so *ahem* efficient, and I am somewhat amazed at how much discipline I have inculcated myself over the last few weeks / months. I remember when I first started this entire "work from home" thing, I probably lied to myself along with my boss on how much work I was doing every day, justifying to myself the amount of work done purely measured by its "quality", and I felt that I could rest on my laurels after simply finishing up after 4 hours of work.

It's a bit strange how I got from there to now, where I don't think I should be working so hard, but somehow I am. In the last 3 weeks, I have become Producer, Designer, QA, part-time Programmer, part-time Artist and most recently, even part-time Audio person in my current project, very much not by choice, but by necessity.

On that note, it is also quite a pity that one man's effort is not enough to carry a 4-man project through, no matter how much that one man stretches himself, and on a certain note, I've given up trying and hoping for a four-fold multiplication of my commitment and effort, but that is a different matter altogether.

Couple that with my immortal body, and I somehow I've become a endless workhorse, able to put in pure 14-16 work days for a straight days, weekdays and weekends, almost to the point that I don't even feel at ease just sitting there and just... playing.

I don't think I am going to lose my first love that is gaming, and of course, that comes from the fun in the actual playing first, but little by little, I'm starting to wonder why is it that I only feel the urge to work, and not play, and to the point that I only stop when my body shuts down on me.

Of course, things aren't getting any better as school has just restarted, and I am on a heavier load this semester, but still, my heart still very much goes into working on the game whenever I can dig out any pockets of time, to the point that I wonder if I am already immune to my bodily alerts of knowing when to stop.

Working too hard? Perhaps. But perhaps, this is what it is really like to be an indie-game developer, without the safety welfare umbrella of a larger studio.

I haven't had very much time for anything else, be it wanting to blog about some overdue events for the longest time, or really just spend some quiet time with those that I love; but something at the back of my mind just tells me that: "I only have these remaining days to work on this, after that, it's pointless even if I want to."

Sometimes, I feel like I'm the only one that feels this way at all, or the only one that is taking it so seriously, and I can just be like anyone else, and just take it "as a job", "as a sideline" or something and just hands-off whenever I think I am "suitably worked".

But of course, those that know me any better know that I have the worst sense of balance and moderation in life, and only seem to live on extremes. Of course, those same people also probably know that if I believe in something, I will stop at nothing to work towards it.

And no matter how lost the cause it might be, I just want to follow-through and give a good finish to what I am doing now. Whether it will be enough in the end or not, I just want to know that I did everything I humanly could, and perhaps even more beyond that.

Of course, I know that things are only going to pile up on some ends, and can sense that they are going to fall apart on others; but something just pushes me to just keep moving forward.

"Drive" is probably the most suitable of terms here, and I can assuredly say, that I have in spades; spades big enough to dig my own grave perhaps.

They say: "It is always darkest before dawn", and I cannot think of anything better to believe in as I sit staring and getting lost in the Fire of my own Passion, waiting for that much-awaited sunrise.

30 Seconds of Fame

Lighting strikes at the same place twice.

Don't think I am eligible to win a subscription for my next lifetime, though.

http://www.gamasutra.com/php-bin/news_index.php?story=25059



And, make that trice. Funny how the same post gets featured for 2 weeks straight...


http://www.gamasutra.com/php-bin/news_index.php?story=25060

15 Seconds of Fame

It may not be the lottery, but winning something sure feels good  - not to mention the validation that comes along with it.

Featured in Gamasutra: http://www.gamasutra.com/php-bin/news_index.php?story=25058

Crowne Plaza: Bubbles in Time

11th July 2009

I stood there, looking out the window, squinting through the reflected images at the lights that lined the runway. Little taps were heard on my glass window - taps that accompanied each and every little droplet that fell, playing a soothing tune of harmony to the jazzy sounds of Michael Buble.

I watched a little droplet slowly trickle down the window, as my mind wandered...

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Water trickled down my brow as I rose, my body still shivering from the initial plunge.

The pool was unusually cold, just as she had forewarned, perhaps due to it's marble floor, unique layout or simply just due to the fact that it was on the 3rd floor and located around an airport where we were left virtually naked to the powers of the wind; one way or another, that didn't stop the eyes from widening as the arms tightened themselves to the body in an attempt to trap heat.

Architecturally designed to be contained within the distinctive "Cat's Eye" of the Crowne Plaza Hotel, the eye provided a poolside view that included the distinctive Control Tower as part of it's backdrop, providing swimmers and poolside-loungers alike with an instantly identifiable landscape.

Inside the Cat's Eye

A graceful backstroke allowed one to peer through another rooftop "Cat's Eye", but this time with the gently floating clouds providing the hypnotic backdrop that fed the eyes with each graceful stroke of the arms.

Due to the different medium, movement slows in water; and perhaps as a figurative parallel, I had found a moment that time slowed down for me, a moment of respite amidst a chokingly-busy schedule, allowing me to take both my mind and body off the drowning workload, giving me the first full 2-day weekend that I've had in the last 4 months.

Uniquely designed with tropical trees and plants littering the landscape of the pool, little and disparate cosy jacuzzi corners were well-camouflaged under the trees and behind the plants. To a passer-by perhaps only the sound of crackling laughter could be heard coming from behind the bushes, as we shifted along the stone slabs, in an attempt to find the strongest jet to massage our (my more than hers) aching backs.

Adjusting myself to an ideal position to get a automated massage, I saw the bubbles rise from the 2 jets adjacent to mine, little bubbles rising to the water's surface and dissipating as the came into contact with the air. And while I knew that my little Bubble in Time would soon burst in the coming of reality, all the more I was determined to enjoy every little moment of rest that I could muster out of this little bubble endowed upon me by my lovely host.

Illusion of Time

Closure: 1 / 5

He pressed the bottle to his lips, tilting it upwards to gulp what was left in the half-filled bottle. Looking at the camera satisfied, he said with a smile on his face, "Ice Lemon Tea. Be gay, be Jeremy Kang."

Laughter naturally ensued, as I stood there baffled at the audacity of it all, and yet, couldn't help but find it amusing to a great degree. Little did I know, the next presentation that followed was going to outdo that.

Yes, it was another Monday, and somehow, when your day, or week in fact, starts with some people parading around the classroom with their t-shirts lifted up, a little bit of male-hoola dancing and a tinge of not-so-hot faux guy-on-guy action, you know that your Mondays will never be the same again.

Yes, this class was "different" alright, in perhaps the best and worst possible kind of way. It is not uncommon that every week saw a couple of presentations that were technically very sound, but with a great extent of liberties taken on the artistic direction, or even the academic value of the works.

"You know, technically, the work is actually quite good. But I seriously wonder, how am I EVER going to show this to my boss," I remember telling them on more than one occasion.

Like almost a comedic slap in the face, it was rather amusing in a semi-masochistic kind of way to see how they would take the skills you had taught them, and totally used (abused) it to achieve something technically sound but totally inappropriate, and striving to outdo themselves week after week.

Naturally, the dynamics between mentor and apprentice(s) would vary from class to class, but considering how different this bunch were, the line was thin with them, and only grew thinner with the weeks.

Yet sometimes, it's funny, how pushing the "wrong" buttons actually end up being more right, as I saw a class that had me worried on first impression, transform into a group that pursued the daily lessons with a twisted fervour.

But perhaps this echoes what I always tell them, and others who have enquired about my teaching experience, that "Teaching at this level is not so much about imparting your knowledge, but it's actually more of a people skill. Learning how to read the students and communicating the lesson across in the best possible way to each individual."

Yet, it's not all a bed of roses, as I definitely gained and lost over the course of the semester.

"I want to ensure that everyone learns to the best of his / her ability" was the ideal that I started my academic career with. And yet, as the weeks went by, I only saw this slowly wither away - enforcement of certain rules became harder, behaviours became more blatant, and distraction was abundant.

In Guns 'n' Roses words, "there are some men you just can't reach", and perhaps this is true as well, and something all mentor-figures have to learn eventually. Learning is a 2-way thing for sure, but at an intermediate-tetiary level such as this, the roles of mentor, facilitator, disciplinarian and friend is a hard hand to juggle.

In the end, most mentor-figures tend to skew towards one or the another, and the impression that you leave on them tends to settle mostly on 1 conclusive point. Perhaps, in that sense, I'm glad that I probably left the building as a "friend", or at least I hope that I did.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Back from my meeting, I made my way back to the classroom, my usual abode where I would spend my 5 to 7s, waiting for my car to become mobile again. Some days, it was having a discussion with a select few on Game Design, some days it was imparting some aspects of my extremely skewed world-wisdom, and yet other days, it was just sitting in and listening to their idle conversations - feeling young and stupid all over again.

But today, it was different.

I walked into the classroom, she screamed, they looked shocked.

"Uh, can you come back later, Faci?" he said to me.

After the longer-than-usual discussion, he said, "Uh, can you follow us for a while?"

With an eyebrow raised, I did so; only to walk into a not-so-surprising surprise party with pizzas and cake to boot.

Of course, all this was quite obvious from a mile away, but the real surprise came in the form of a little (ok, not that little maybe) silver book, reminiscent of one of those student autography books kinda thing that captured everyone's well-wishes.

Of course, I remained unfazed throughout, as I almost always am, prompting them to ask, after blowing out the candles, "Faci, why are you not surprised at all?"

"Hmm. How do you expect me to be surprise when in the morning, you ask me if I like Mango Cake?" I replied, with a deadpan look.

Still, not bad for a bunch of "gays and retards."

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Someone once told me that in teaching, "For every 5 students you teach, if 1 of them learns; it's already considered a success."

Well, if put that way, than I guess that I probably can live with a shattered ideal. As not only do I think that I have more than 1 successful student in every 5, I have 4 friends as well.

"Thanks you for putting up with me throughout the semester. I think that teaching you people has made me gained a lot more patience. So much so that I think I'm ready for Fatherhood."

The class chuckled, and with these words, I closed my first semester.

To the "Gays and Retards" from my "other class", thanks for the friendship and the memories...

E24J

The End of the Beginning...

"My name is Jeremy Kang, and 2 days a week, I am a Facilitator. For the other 5 days, I'm a Game Designer, and that automatically makes cool."

And with these words, I began my first term into the World of Academia; a world riddled with uncertainty, a world shrouded in mystery; one that placed me on the other side of the table from where I was not too long ago, and one that I was hardly sure of whether I was ready for or not.

One way or another, I walked out of the first semester alive, and it has indeed been a very different 17 weeks, walking out with a lot less questions and a bit more answers.

"I'm simply here to impart my knowledge to you, not here to be your damn Role Model."

And indeed, these words rang true throughout the classes.

Irony is a bitch, no qualms about that. I remembered how I used to tell people that teaching was the last thing on my mind; and yet, the Fates just have a nice way of blind-siding you and pinching you in the ass for making such comments - and I must have one helluva ass to them.

But upon reflection, perhaps the main point leading to such a career being so unimaginable to me was perhaps largely due to my impatience and dislike for nonsense, not to mention my disrespect for ideals and self-righteous beliefs of "moulding future generations" and all that bull.

Fortunately, I didn't have to show any of the above-mentioned qualities, and could retain my characteristical -self throughout most of the lessons - minus the profuse swearing maybe.

I remember the question posed to be during my interview:

"You look really young. Is respect important to you? How would you get your students to respect you?"

Yes, perhaps age was my biggest worry walking into the class, and getting the students to listen to me in the first place. But at the same time, over the course of the semester, I think it has probably proven to be my greatest asset as well, as the relatively lesser age-gap allowed me to better relate to the students on a more personal level, sharing in their ridiculous jokes and whatnot.

And yet, when it was time to for work, my answer probably rang true, that:

"Respect is irrelevant of age; it is more of a matter of establishing a point of relation and being able to get your points across."

"9 to 4.30, I'm your Facilitator, after 4.30, we're friends."

Perhaps "Respect" is a bit overrated when you consider the context, as the environment lends itself a lot more towards an informal learning experience, than trying to impose a hard-and-fast one.

And indeed, knowing when to play the "Respect" and "Friendship" cards went a long way towards establishing the classroom dynamics, and I think it's a lot better this way, no matter how frowned upon it might be by some more conventional minds.

"So what makes you think you are ready to teach?"

This was one of the most stifling questions shot at me during the interview. And honestly, after 17 weeks, I can't really say that I'm any wiser towards answering that question, and maybe I will never be.

But honestly, that's ok. Because for every doubt raised, at least now I know that there are at least some answers that would justify otherwise; and that alone would allow me to sleep better at night, knowing that I at least did some semblance of my designated job.

To my first class, thanks for the hardwork, tolerance, birthdays, photo-whoring, jokes, laughter and memories...

E24N