|
>>
|
253500.jpg
Peach Buzzer
253500
A common mistake I make is to begin a project, and through the execution of the requisite tasks, discover something I'd rather do. The primary issue is the difference in speed between what can be done by the hands and by the mind. The story of V1 is ostensibly finished in my mind, but my hands have yet to catch up. The story is simple. I think I made a mistake improperly conveying that. I gave the audience a plane, when all they needed was to drive around a few cones. What was intended soley as a framing device--The terminal interface and Within debugger--Has become the hammer through which the story is beaten. It is a filter that has reduced the participatory audience, and perhaps alienated a large portion of the lurking eyes (I cannot measure this in any other way than my self-critical insistence that I am always doing something wrong).
To be completely truthful, I am insecure about the 'dialogue' in the story. The tiny bumps in the road have left me dispassionate, and so the responses by V1 are meandering through the weeds of emotion. It is as directionless as a balloon left in the open air, swirling in the empty wind.
The story itself, as presented to the audience, flails and flounders similarly. The author is the navigator, and they are the captain, but to communicate the goal in such clear and direct terms would violate the rules presupposed by fiction.
Do not pity me and leave words of encouragement or support. Do not tell me that my anxieties are conjured nor immaterial. This is my critique to myself; It is one of the inner voices which demands my bettering, that which stares in silent contempt at all that could have been done better. We all need an enemy to fight, and I am mine.
|