A stillness lays on the world before it wakes up. There is light but no sound in this twilight.
If we were patient, we’d see the life in motion. If we were willing, we’d hear the world growing.
From the death we call “winter,” a new earth rises from the ground. In what seems like one night, our surroundings are changed. Had we paid closer attention, we’d have seen the time pass by and we’d have noticed the changes happening all around us.
But we’re busy. Our time is money. She’ll have to forgive us, Madame Earth.
Forgive us, indeed.
May is one of the in-between months. It’s caught between a lot and usually ends up as one of the more forgettable sets of days that we live through each year. It isn’t frequently that anyone ever exclaims, “I can’t wait- it’s almost May.”
That just doesn’t happen. Unless your birthday falls in this month, but even then you’re likely to wish your birthday was sometime better, like October.
The way that we live, we’re always living for the next thing and never the moment that is right here. In May, we’re ready for vacation or school to let out or swimming or E3; or we’re waiting for September when everything begins to cool down again and we can buy pumpkin-flavored everythings.
Our cover story this month, Spring, hopes to do the opposite. We want to slow down and observe games through a study of color. Specifically, how does color create new ideas?
At its core, the season of spring brings new life from what we let die in the months prior. The same ground breathes again with something unique and sometimes strange. It can be beautiful but wicked.
We want to look at how games have evoked the ideas of the season; how games have become reborn or transformed. We want to study how palette choice dictates mood and creates something refreshing.