Age of Relaxation

March 1st, 2pm. I have awoken.

I lean out of bed and switch the nearest monitor on. Last time I looked, it was 5am and I’d just finished redoing the setup for my animation sequence because the usual file for my animation work has a slightly warped texture that I cannot fix without re-unwrapping my model, re-texturing and re-rendering ambient occlusion. I’d had to start again on an older file that wasn’t broken. Incremental saves have saved the day again.

The animation isn’t finished – 3DS Max is just rendering the last few frames of what has been a nine hour haul. I’d like to indicate now that I am not an animator. I find it unsettling to say the least that I have to wait nine hours to see the fruits of my labour, on what is, in reality, a hugely simple animation.

On this occasion, my efforts have not worked. Instead of a smooth, 16 second video illustrating the architecture (albiet my simplistic interpretation) of a medieval castle on Romanesque remains, with Gothic and Norman inspiration, the results are a four second jittery mess that reaches from a simple interior design to the windows, without any of the exterior detail making it to video.

Penrith castle is a site that has evolved over hundreds of years. It is believed to be established on the remains of a Roman fort, struggled under Scottish attack, shielded a local cleric, demonstrated the power and stature of several key members of the Neville family – from The Kingmaker, Richard Neville, to his son in law, Richard, Duke of Gloucester, or as he is more widely known, King Richard III. It was occupied during the Civil War, and afterwards fell to ruin, although its plight today is somewhat less dramatic or romantic; it is instead encircled by a tarmac road, McDonalds, and a railway station. I can tell you this because my bed has become a Medieval information desk.

My four second mess does not encompass this incredible history. William Strickland, Richard Plantagenet, and Major-General Lambert would not be pleased, and I am not pleased, as I have also failed the possibilities granted to me by modern technology.

Good games go to incredible lengths to take you out of your room, and experience someone else’s vision. And a good, relaxing game is exactly what I need to briefly escape the constant trauma of failure.

So here I am, mentally weeping into a bag of peanut M&Ms, wishing for a good old fashioned isometric strategy game to lift my spirits. The truth is, fully 3D strategy games scare me a great deal, because if I turn the camera by accident, my buildings and units won’t be in the same place I left them. My isometric long-time love is Age of Empires.

Regardless of how the graphics have aged, games like this that I enjoyed years ago carry nostalgia and familiarity, and cheer me up like comfort food. When I play Age of Empires, I feel like I’m sitting in the loft of my parents’ house and genuinely not caring about anything else other than the threat of attacking pixels. Not caring about completing my degree, finding a job, finding a place to live, repaying my student loan, and all manner of abysmal happiness killers that are circulating my mind. In truth, I believe I’ve bought Age of Empires II four times, and Age of Empires I twice, because I’ve either not taken care of the disc, or lost it.

Installing Age of Empires on my new, previously game-free PC has probably been one of my brightest moves this year. I’m happy to keep buying Age of Empires again and again because it has become a crutch for the bad times, even though the water has turned a psychedelic pink.