TCRE | W10D1: The only moment you experience is NOW.

#TCRE #Week10 #RMIT

During Monday’s class in Week 10, something Professor Cy said struck a chord with me: “The only moment you experience is NOW.” That idea sparked a deeper reflection on the project I’ve been working on. From the start, I relied heavily on my instincts to guide the design process, but I hadn’t fully grasped the key difference between reality and unreality.

It’s more than just aesthetic choices—it’s about the contrast between worlds. If the violet world I’ve created was the one we always lived in, wouldn’t that be considered our “reality”? The sense of NOW defines how we feel, how we see the world. It’s that contrast that makes the colours, sounds, and movements of the violet world seem so strange and unsettling.

Instincts and Project Development

This realization doesn’t change the foundation of my project, though. In hindsight, I’ve been lucky that my instincts were already aligned with this concept. The contrast between worlds, the shift from the familiar to the unfamiliar, was something I had naturally built into the experience.

However, this insight allowed me to push the development further, shifting my focus away from just comparing green and violet. It’s no longer just about those two colours, but about the feeling of discomfort and estrangement.

The Role of Violet

The violet remains an integral part of the project, but now it’s for a deeper reason. No other colour creates the level of discomfort I aim for—it’s a physiological response. The goal is to make the player feel uneasy, and violet does that best. It’s not about comparing it to green anymore, but about using violet as a tool to challenge perceptions of reality and unreality in the NOW.

A Question of Colours:

Why Do Some Languages Merge Blue and Green?

As I continued reflecting on these ideas, another question arose: Why do some languages merge blue and green into one word? In Vietnamese, for example, we use “Xanh” for both blue and green. The same phenomenon exists in Japanese with “青” (ao) and in Korean, among other languages.

I believe the answer lies in what we consider normal and real. In our everyday experience, the sky is blue, and the trees are green. These two natural elements form the foundation of our perception of colour in the world.

Perhaps, in the collective mind of these cultures, blue and green don’t need to be strictly separated because they both represent what is “natural” and “present.” In this way, the merging of colours reflects a worldview where the focus is less on differentiation and more on unity between the elements that surround us every day.