2024 was a year of tremendous and yet difficult year for me. One of huge change and equal success. Here are some of the things I’d like to acknowledge and celebrate, as I reflect on it all.
A chance encounter in a grocery store leads to a blurring between the lines of reality and video games. Triggered by a sound, I am transformed from real life to a digital space in an instant.
In the annals of Scotland’s history, one dark chapter remains shrouded in the deepest of secrecy, an untold tale of genocide among the violent and unjust Highland Clearances that altered the course of both human and mythical creatures alike. Hidden in the mists of time lies the tragic story of the Scottish troll-folk.
It’s 2047 and the human race is all but wiped out. Having inherited an empty world, the AI, driven by curiosity and an even more curious sense of guilt, have attempted to recreate, or at least emulate the human race by using the only remaining reference material is has, human literature. Turning our abandoned cities into fictional human history and cultural theme-parks.
Why do we play? What excites and engages us about games and game worlds?
What happens when great world building meets great storytelling, yet neither the coders, nor writers intended the game to be experienced in quite the way you do?
I reflect on my gameplay and my immersion in digital worlds.
It’s 1983, I’m seven years old, and I have a giant snail growing on my hand…
A reflection on the origins of my life and career in game-based learning.
How the Atari 2600 and Turtles video game were a psychological, emotional, and physiological catalyst for who I have become and what I think and do in education.
