Keyword: video game

  • We Can’t Let Winter Win

    “We Can’t Let Winter Win” by Jason Kotecki. 16 x 20. Oil on canvas.
    Original is available 🟢 Shop this art!

    One thing I love about the Midwest is the seasons. Real ones. Not like those they claim to have elsewhere, so-called “winters” with an occasional snow flurry and temperatures that sometimes flirt below forty.

    In Wisconsin, our seasons are pure, not pretenders. 

    I like that, because it allows me to fully embrace the beauty and lessons of each one. It’s a reflection of life, which has distinct seasons, no matter where we live.  

    If we’re honest, we’d prefer life to be one long, glorious summer, filled with sunshine and popsicles. But no. There are seasons of autumn, times for slowing down and saying goodbyes. And there are long winters of loneliness, where life feels frozen solid, and hope gets buried under a blanket of snow. 

    Of course, spring always follows, but sometimes it seems to have overslept.

    In Wisconsin, there is always a point when you’re pretty sure winter is over. 

    Live here long enough, and you realize it’s not. 

    There’s always one last gasp. One final snowstorm. One more cold snap that steals spring away, just as you were about to elope together on your way to summer.

    That might be the most deflating, difficult part of winter: The moment when it appears it will never end, and you don’t know how much more you can take.

    Life feels like that sometimes, when it seems like winter’s gonna win. 

    Winter wins when it convinces us that nothing will ever change.

    Winter wins when we let disappointment over unmet expectations turn into resentment.

    Winter wins when we allow ourselves to be buried under a blanket of apathy.

    Winter wins when we decide to give up and let the hope within us flicker out.

    But it doesn’t have to get the final say.

    This painting is a reminder that we can’t let winter win.

    The 8-bit sunflower is reminiscent of a video game, because I think that’s a good way to think of it. When you’re in the middle of one of life’s winters, everything is heavy. Summer looks so far away. We see all the things that need to change for us to go from where we are to where we want to be, and it feels insurmountable. 

    Sometimes the answer to the darkness that weighs down on us is a little levity. Making a game out of it is a way to rise above the life-and-death seriousness of our situation. It takes us ever-so-slightly outside ourselves to give us perspective that is a little wider than the restricted, optionless way winter can feel sometimes.

    Part of what makes a game engaging and fun is that there is a challenge to it. But the key is for it to be a doable challenge. So instead of focusing on all the ways we are frozen in place and how many more days of winter are ahead, make a game out of finding even one tiny clue that spring is on its way. You don’t need to defeat the Final Boss and save the Princess; you just need to make it past this level. 

    Today.

    The game is this: Figure out how to win today.

    It doesn’t have to be big.

    It could be one five-minute prayer.

    It could be getting dinner on the table.

    It could be dumping the bottle of vodka down the drain.

    It might just be getting out of bed.

    Sometimes the win is just giving it one more day.

    I’ve experienced many winters, especially in the early days of building our business. I once got some advice from a business colleague I’ve never forgotten. He, too, was an entrepreneur and knew how discouraging it was to feel like you made one step forward only to take three steps back. He shared a simple policy he lived by. On those really hard days, the days when he didn’t think he could go any further, he promised himself he’d give it one more day. He gave himself permission to abandon ship after that, but not before he gave it one more day.

    Sure enough, the next day always brought some glint of hope, a new reason to believe. There was rarely any huge breakthrough that magically happened. Maybe it was a small sale. Maybe it was an encouraging word from a friend. Maybe it was just a good night’s sleep.  

    Just a baby step forward.

    We win when we find evidence that spring is on its way.

    We win when hope bursts through a blanket of apathy.

    We win when our resentment melts into acceptance.

    We win when our panic gives way to patience.

    We win when we bring light to someone else.

    We win when we give it one more day.

    Don’t let winter win.

    Keep holding on for spring.

  • Insert Coin

    “Insert Coin” by Jason Kotecki. 30 x 24. Oil on canvas.
    Original is available. 🟢 Shop this art!

    My Grandpa and uncle used to own a tavern. Once in a while, they’d close it to host family parties. I remember the dimly lit atmosphere and the ghosts of spent cigarettes that hung in the air, but my favorite feature was the row of arcade games lined up against the wall. They were blinking, bright doorways to amazing worlds and grand adventures. 

    I don’t remember ever being given any money from my parents to play them. But no matter. Each game had a preview segment, showing a minute or so of the gameplay to entice you to feed it some coins. I just delighted in going from machine to machine, maneuvering the joystick and mashing buttons while pretending I was the one controlling the game.

    Eventually, the novelty wore off, as the preview always ended the same way. I could pretend for hours, living in a fantasy world, which was fun for a while. But if I wanted to experience the game for real, I had to insert some coins.

    Sometimes we live “preview” lives in our own heads. Imagining what it would be like if we made the decision to ask her out. Or put the house up for sale and embark on that quest. Or ask for that raise. Or quit that godforsaken job once and for all. Sometimes those visions in our heads have amazing endings, others have disastrous results, but either way, it’s all fake.

    No matter how certain you are of the likely result (good or bad), you don’t know what will really happen until you actually go for it. Knowing for sure? That costs something.

    You have to be willing to insert the coin.

    It might be a financial investment, of course, but that’s not usually what holds us back. Not really. More often, it’s the fear of the unknown, of not measuring up, or the risk of failure (and the embarrassment that might come from it). Sometimes we shy away from the pain and discomfort it will require. We’re just not willing to put in the work or serve the time to get where we want to be.

    A few years after my grandfather closed the tavern for good, I had a friend who was great at video games. My brothers and I would sit and watch him play Super Mario Bros., delighted to see how far he’d get, fingers crossed over whether he’d be able to defeat Bowser and win the game. It too was fun, for a while. But the joy was always fleeting because his success was not ours. It was always more fulfilling to solve a level on my own, even if I never did make it as far in the game as he did.

    This painting is inspired by that original Nintendo classic. I’m intrigued by the idea of coming across one of the game’s iconic green pipes in the middle of a wide-open field. What’s it doing there? Where does it lead? And most importantly, would I have the courage to find out?

    Life is a lot like a video game. It’s filled with challenges, obstacles, and opportunities to level up. But unlike most video games in which you have a few “lives” to get it right, real life only gives you one.

    What a pity to waste it watching someone else’s game or settling for an imaginary version of your own. 

    What a shame to let fear keep you from fully owning your story and who you are meant to become. 

    Don’t miss the adventure of a lifetime.

    Insert the coin.

  • Space Invaders

    “Space Invaders” by Jason Kotecki. 12 x 12. Oil on canvas.
    Original is SOLD 🔴 Shop this art!

    Some of you are old enough to remember the Atari video game system. A far cry from the advanced graphics we see in games today. And only one button!

    One of the most popular games was called Space Invaders, which I have featured prominently in this painting. It was a simple concept: you try to shoot as many aliens as you can as they descend down your screen. As the game continues, the aliens descend at an ever-increasing speed. If they reach the bottom, the alien invasion is successful, and the game ends.

    To me, this is a great metaphor for Adultitis, a disease that Kim and I have committed our lives to help defeat. All of you are familiar with this enemy, even if you’re hearing the name for the first time. It’s what happens when you lose your sense of wonder, your curiosity, and your childlike zest for life.

    Quite literally, Adultitis means “swelling of the adult.” And when you’re walking around with too much adult, your life is more stressful and less fun.

    Although I wish there were a magic potion or miracle cure that ended Adultitis once and for all, there just isn’t. Adultitis is always coming after us, just like those aliens. You can blast down a whole screen by going to Disney World, but on your first day back to work, another wave is ready to strike.

    The key, I think, is to look at fighting Adultitis as a game. It’s most deadly when it hides in the shadows, convincing you to take yourself too seriously and getting you to focus on the negative.

    But if you notice where it tries to sabotage you and laugh at its advances, you can diffuse its power.

    Our family has had great fun in acknowledging when Adultitis has gained the upper hand, and we encourage one another to fight back. Extreme cases call for a pajama run or a spontaneous dance party in the kitchen.

    My Dad always says, “Everything happens for a reason.”

    I make it a game to try to figure out the reason. Anytime something bad happens, I start thinking about what good could come from it. What if you looked at the challenges you face like any other game?

    • Instead of looking at making payroll as a life-or-death situation, make it into a game.
    • Instead of worrying about not getting everything done today, make it into a game.
    • Instead of stressing out over how you’ll ever be able to conform to the new regulations in your industry, make it into a game.

    Instead of acting like your current challenge is something found in the bad-tasting medicine aisle, mentally repackage it in primary colors and take it from the toy section. Breathe. Smile. Have some fun with it. By looking at it as a game and clearing your mind of the useless worst-case scenarios, you’ll actually be MORE likely to notice the people, opportunities, and ideas you’ll need to win.

    You may believe that the stakes are much higher now compared to a silly game of Space Invaders. But are they really? With VERY few exceptions, the truth is that our fear of failure is worse than the consequences that come from actually failing. Sure, the project very well might flop, your efforts might go to waste, or someone may laugh at you. You could get rejected, dejected, or fired.

    Sometimes, like the aliens, Adultitis advances past your defenses and wins the day.

    But you know what? The good news is that you can hit reset and start again. Life WILL go on. It’ll be ok. You’ll be able to pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and get ready for the new — even better! — opportunity right around the corner.

    Are you game?