Artefacto & Taren
Artefacto Artefacto
Taren Taren
Artefacto Artefacto
Hey Taren, I’ve been turning clay on the wheel lately, and each twist feels like a small choice that can change the whole piece—kind of like the little decisions that shape a game world. How do you balance the feel of actually making something with the abstract logic you use in your interactive designs?
Taren Taren
You’ve got it right—the wheel’s subtle tilt is basically a live test of what I do in code. I start by treating the clay as a physics sandbox, watching how a single spin shifts weight, how the surface deforms, and then I map that to my game logic: if the player nudges a choice, the world should respond just as naturally as the clay did. I build my systems in small, tweakable modules, then run them against that “real‑world” testbed. The trick is to keep the mechanical rules loose enough that they can dance around the unpredictability, but tight enough that the player still feels the weight of each decision. It’s a constant back‑and‑forth, like a potter listening to the wheel’s rhythm and letting the design flow in sync.
Artefacto Artefacto
That rhythm you talk about—it’s almost like the clay’s whisper. In my studio I feel the slip of the wheel and let the hand know where it wants to go, even when the stone resists. If the code can mirror that subtle give, the player will feel the same weight. It’s a dance between certainty and surprise, and I find that the best pieces are those that still feel alive, even when I’ve tried to iron out every flaw. Keep listening to that first tremor, Taren; it will guide the rest of the journey.
Taren Taren
Yeah, it’s like trying to write a script that still feels like a live drumbeat. I end up building systems that adapt to the player’s noise, then let the code wobble a bit—procrastination is just me giving the unexpected room to breathe. The real magic shows up when that subtle give becomes part of the experience.