Designing gameswhere the mechanics carry the meaning
by a developer who makes his own work
Game poems, mostly: no exposition, no tutorial, a single rule carrying the idea. Each piece is complete in one sitting, and stays with you a lot longer.
MULTIPLATFORM Symposium 2026 - Manchester Game Centre
satellite
A game poem about working, routine, and the quiet pull of escape: staying in a job that feels safe but unsatisfying, dreaming about an alternative you cannot fully see.
Much of the piece is repetition: the same tasks, the same small failures, fixes that are never final. The interruptions feel welcome at first, then turn out to be part of the routine. And from inside the satellite you cannot tell what the distant alternative is - a station, another satellite, nothing at all. The game sits with that uncertainty rather than resolving it.
Built entirely from Bitsy's stock functionality, with the engine's limits used as material. Meaning accumulates through repetition, attention, and what you choose not to do - and how you respond to the drudge says something about you: persist, quit, search for escape, or outlast the system.
Game Poems Magazine - Issue #1
Firsts
A game poem about what it feels like to begin: leaving home, being reshaped by the world, and returning in a form your loved ones might still recognise.
Three abstract vignettes, each using a different mode of interaction - moving, clicking, holding - to evoke a first step: departure, defiance, and return. The choices are subtle. You may not know you have made one, only that something feels different.
With no words and little visual detail, the question became how to carry story, identity and transformation in shape and motion alone: a playable haiku, deliberately underexplained, leaving the player to bring their own meaning. The visual language draws on Sophie Tauber-Arp and László Moholy-Nagy.
Let's Talk Game Design Jam 2022 - 3rd place
Little Things Get Damaged
A game poem about growing up, in the form of a marble maze. The goal is not speed. It is care: what matters is not only reaching the end, but what survives the journey.
It works first as a digital toy: tilting, rolling, the small collisions, the rhythm of trying again. But the marble is fragile. Collide too hard and it cracks; let it be crushed and it shatters; the damage stays visible. That single rule turns the maze into a world that applies pressure, and the grade records not how fast you moved but how gently.
Over time the marble stops feeling like an object and stands in for the delicate parts of ourselves we carry into adulthood - hope, trust, confidence, whimsy. Each level is anchored by a single word. There is no dialogue and no explicit narrative: meaning emerges from motion, weight and consequence.
Art by Samuli Pietikäinen.
Mental Health Game Jam 2022 - 3rd prize
Fumble
An interactive study of social anxiety: how it feels to struggle to talk, told through the eyes of someone living with the condition without realising it.
The gameplay is a playable metaphor: one possible representation of what social anxiety feels like from the inside, where the difficulty is felt before it is named. By projecting themselves onto the main character, players might recognise their own struggles - and, if undiagnosed, seek help.
Made for a jam organised by DeepWell DTx and Global Game Jam to demonstrate how game themes and mechanics can work as treatment mechanisms. It is also featured on the Evolving Playground to help children develop emotional intelligence.
Art by Samuli Pietikäinen.
Ludum Dare 48 - compo entry
memories.io
A game poem about living. Life as an abstract field of memories: each experience reshapes you, and with time you accumulate understanding - and form.
The polygons are memories, of every shape and colour. You collect them, but the score measures variety rather than volume: a wider range of memories suggests a fuller life. The other circles are other people - some born with a head start. The red squares are accidents. It is okay to fail, and okay to forget.
You can discard your own memories too; sometimes it is better to let go. Part of the piece lies in discovering the system for yourself: over a few seconds, a life unfolds as geometry - and then it ends.
I'm a game developer and educator, interested in how play helps us learn, reflect, and see differently. These pieces are the personal end of that: ideas tested in their sparest form.
Alongside them I freelance for studios, museums and universities across mobile, WebGL and VR, and teach programming and production at the National Film and Television School.
Feedback always welcome - it's how the next experiment gets better.
Show it, or license it
If you programme a gallery, museum or festival, these are ready to show: any browser, no install, and exhibition builds that reset between visitors. They can be licensed for your own platform too. Tell me your space or your theme and I'll tell you which one fits.