You want to know what’s sad (in a way) or at least dumb? See the fish animation on the sidebar, last thing on the right? I keep trying to feed the green one. (Left click on the image to feed them.)
I am invested in taking care of an image, a bunch of pixels of color and apparent movement, a non-existent creature.
Am I that lonely, or is there something else at work here, some human or sentient being need to interact with other “living” beings? Because, you see, at some point I forget that I am playing a game and I begin trying to anticipate where the little green fish will go next - so that I can get there before all the other fish arrive in order to drop food pellets for my little green buddy.
What’s up with that? Is it a delayed case of empty nest syndrome? Am I substituting this moving bit of color on my monitor screen for a living plant or a pet dog or cat to nurture? Is this a female thing, a need to take care of...of...something, anything, to feel fulfilled? To justify my taking up air and space here?
Or am I bored out of my skull at work, chasing my (note the possessive pronoun!) green fish when I should be working on taxes and filing?
I’ll put this issue on the back burner and let it simmer for awhile. In the meantime, I’ve got a fish to feed.
9 comments:
One thing I know is that I am always (impossibly) trying to repair nature in my art. It doesn't make any sense logically.
It's perfectly normal. If anything it highlights slightly competitive or goal oriented traits... or that you just like playing fun games. Maybe it's time to invest in a PlayStation? ;-)
I'm going for the last option. Occam's Razor.
Greetings!
Art Sparker - neither does my questioning my reasons for playing this game! Is art supposed to be logical, by the way?
Steve - my grandson would just love to get me started with PlayStation! He's always telling me about the different levels he's attained in his various games, which I don't follow at all. I recognize that he has achieved something of value to him, so I heartily congratulate him on his success, but just as heartily decline to have him teach me how to play.
Zhoen - and much more likely, given the setting! I think what started me pondering my behavior was when I noticed I was talking to the green one, giving it directions to the next pellet drop, and offering advise on how to avoid the yellow ones, which beat all the others to most of the pellets.
(I'm doing it again! Repeat after me, Martha: there are no fish, there are no food pellets, this is not real!)
sometimes, it's just nice to have something to care about.
:))
Reading about the Iroquois, I came across a philosophy that rings true for me:
"Everything is real."
Harlequin: yes, it takes the focus off our own miseries for a bit, and - more important - makes us feel useful. It was suggested that I make all of them green (you choose the number of fish and the colors), but where's the benefit in that?
Fresca: I can't believe I'm admitting this, but when I turn off appliances (fans, ac, mostly), I thank them for doing a good job. that habit goes back to my girlhood when I felt sorry for the radio that was left on all day, when there was no one there to hear it.
Yep, gotta get a life!
Well, I for one have to say this is perfectly normal behavior since, in essence, everything we can interact with is real and even sentient at deeper levels only we as individuals can define. The little green fish is no less real that the atomic interactions that make up his simple form. I've fallen for collections of atoms many times and will again. In fact, right now I have to go and make sure all my neighbors are okay in my DS game of 'animal planet - wild world' as both my husband and I have been doing twice a day for nearly six years :-)
Susan: Yes, perfectly normal. Absolutely so. Thank you for confirming my deepest suspicions about the universe; my corner of it, anyway.
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