I am an artist and game designer living in Istanbul. I've spent all my youth in an era slowly losing its meaning, where the most heartfelt moments are cut short by the whim of media giants, and where power and creativity become targets of mockery by fools and weaklings. Within this chaos, I'm searching tirelessly for a wiser tide, a more mature wave capable of redrawing the boundaries. Despite all the soulless impulses claiming to replace us, I willingly sacrifice whatever is necessary to remain among the true artists. Here in Istanbul, where art intertwines with code, and each carries his own sword, where money wages war against the soul, my life continues. And through all this, it carries on, reflecting a chaotic image—marked by the dangerous, mischievous smile of someone determined to remain human, even amid the superficiality of a hollow existence.
After nearly a decade immersed in the craft of game design, I have come to see clearly the bitter truth: without grasping the roots of that restrictive, oppressive, and utterly joyless social avalanche—one that blocks not only others’ minds but perhaps my own—it is impossible to chart a meaningful course or rediscover a purpose to exist. Ever since realizing that this ignorance stands as the most shameful obstacle to creating any game or product capable of inspiring either lament or rebirth, I have grown deeply aware that the very act of creating anything at all is itself an honorable form of resistance.
And tonight, while everyone else sleeps, I can humbly claim—with a voice admittedly touched by arrogance but tempered by the protective spirit of an old man teaching his grandchild how to throw stones—that running breathlessly through a park in the dead of night and building code that crushes my mind line by line are not so different after all. Indeed, each struggle is bound to the other, each quietly serving the same battle.
fareplay
burak kanbur