This is the space for our members to discuss and share their creative projects, ranging from written works to drawings, photography, and even craft projects such as knitting and woodworking. Self promotion is welcome (websites where we can view and/or purchase your work). Please do continue to preface if content is NSFW and be sure to properly spoiler/link such content. Those of you who’d like to post future Creative Endeavors Threads post your request in the comments below.

Slowly working back to form, but recent spikes in work activity (Graduation Weekend for the University of Michigan’s this week, and usually one of our busiest times of the year) and other competing demands have complicated things somewhat. I haven’t exactly been burning the midnight oil, but consciousness of learning another language—I’ve been taking informal Spanish classes now for several months—has subtly affected how I view a lot of my spare time, not least as I mentally practice, at least, during work and other times. And, of course, I’ve still been playing Stardew Valley.

Not as much as during my hibernation craze, but it’s all too easy, especially after a long day at work, to just sink back into the routine. It scratches some weird itch of mine in a way I can’t describe and, seeing how much modern society seems to revolve around video games and their culture (at least at my workplace, anyhow) a spate of addiction might be a little overdue. Nevertheless, I’ve gotten curious about why I’ve gotten so hooked on this thing, not least for its creative simpatico. There have been a number of articles and thinkpieces (this was a good early example) but I’ve had a few ideas.

1. It hits a lot of different sweet spots at once in terms of gaming activity—you can farm, fish, engage in combat in the mines, mine in the mines, interact with the other villagers—any time you might theoretically get bored of doing the one thing, you can go and do the other (and even if you’re tired of the main setting, you can eventually check out the Calico Desert or Ginger Island, though I have yet to fully explore the latter).
2. It’s largely the creation of a single individual—so many games I read about are the general products of large (or even small) studios, but Eric Barone was the creator and still primary creative force behind the game’s subsequent development (the backstory that SDV came about as a side project he could shop as a resume builder really appeals—so much of my own best work came about as a mental side-hustle to main projects that either fizzled out or weren’t as good). While obviously collaboration goes back as far in art history as art itself, it’s easier for me to mentally access this way.
3. The world Barone’s built feels eerily similar to the one in which I’ve come to set many of my illustrations—a recognizably contemporary one (though small-city in my case, rather than small-town) that’s nevertheless infused with the supernatural—local shrines and an original new religion feature considerably, and stranded nature spirits are a big part of the basic story and game mechanic (the dwarves’ alleged in-story origins actually closely resemble the backstory I invented for my tentacled “squigglies” that show up every so often).
4. One of the things that generally turns me off about modern video games is how “realistic” they’re supposed to be, getting closer and closer to 3-D “authenticity” with every release. Give me some distance—I love the old-school pixellated aesthetic SDV embodies (I think I got hooked on Crusader Kings 2—and didn’t go for CK3—for similar reasons; I want to be able to fill in the mental gaps on my own and don’t need my hand held, I guess). And then there’s the music (again, it’s wild to think that this is basically all one guy); I’ve actually had to mute it so the game was easier to turn off (and the occasional irruption of other music leads to some entertaining moments; one now favorite memory of mine was racing through the green rain to the sound of Diana Ross’ “Love Hangover”).
5. There’s definitely a political undercurrent to the game I find very congenial, and not just in the usual ways. While there are occasional whiffs of a granola traditionalism that don’t jibe (Barone apparently grew up in the small-town Pacific Northwest and others have commented on how SDV mirrors the experience; I obviously wouldn’t know), the game in general is pretty spot on, not just in its obvious disdain for the Joja Corporation that threatens the town’s identity, but also the hallmarks of “tradition” itself (finding out how sleazy Pierre is has inspired a deeply amusing subreddit—I feel like he’s an indictment of those business owners who “treat their workers like a family” (TM)— as well as the Lewis subplot I still haven’t managed to unlock).

So while I happily acknowledge how creatively rich and fulfilling playing this game is, I also have to consider how it might be getting in the way of generating—if you will—my own creative wealth. It’s not the main cause, but it comes close to primus inter pares, and I still need to find a way to manage it in a way that reinforces rather than replaces my own creative energy. So, uh…

How’s your work going?