Today’s my birthday, so let’s get a little personal. This will be a more casual reflection, we’ll be back to the regular design focus next month, but for now, grab a coffee and hang out for a bit if you want 📝

Since I was a kid, I’ve spent a lot of time inside my own head. Not because I’m introverted, quite the opposite actually, but because most of my leftover hyperactive energy turned into thoughts and ideas.

I was consuming movies, books, games, and music like there was no tomorrow. I was also lucky enough to explore all of these areas before working in games. The drive was always the same. A need many of us share to create and connect to things we care about.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not romantic about the good old “art vs. business” debate. I’ve worked in corporations long enough to know that creativity always sits next to measurable goals, plus I need to pay my bills. That tension is just part of the landscape here.

But lately, with all the AI conversations and the intense state of the gaming industry, I’ve been asking myself a simple question: why do I do this at all?

Not as a crisis, more as a moment of reflection. A way of checking where things are heading and how I relate to it today.

My favorite pieces of art are not remarkable because they are perfect or successful, but because they connect with me in a specific moment in time. With their wins, their flaws, their edges, and the version of me that met them. That kind of connection feels deeply human, and it rarely comes from something carefully planned.

In the middle of this reflection, I went on a walk with my dog and listened to a podcast with Lourenço Mutarelli, one of my favorite Brazilian authors. Hearing him talk openly about doubt, failure, and falling in and out of love with his craft over the decades hit me in a good way.

There is something grounding about seeing your idols go through similar feelings. It doesn’t solve anything, but it makes it easier to accept that this uncertainty is just part of the process. And it also made me realize something.

Under all the noise around the tech and gaming industry nowadays, there is still a lot to be excited about. Not in a naive way (cause there is still plenty to rage about too), but in a way that comes from reconnecting with attention itself. From actually noticing things again instead of just moving through them. Indie games emerging from the sea of “more of the same”, people finding new ways to shape their work around what they genuinely want to say, bands reinventing their sound to express themselves.

I got back from that walk, took some time to decompress, and even finished Crimson Desert after spending around 100 hours in a world that is full of problems but also brilliant in its own way.

And maybe that is the point I’m trying to convey. Staying close enough to the things you care about so you can still feel why they mattered in the first place, and filter out the noise a bit more clearly.

Well, no big conclusion here. I’m not even sure if I made much sense, but I have a small birthday request anyway:

Take a moment to reconnect with something you love. A game, a movie, an album, a book. And ask yourself why you care.

Thanks for reading.

See you next month for proper design talk.

On reconnecting