So glad you’re here on my little corner of the internet!

Snacks and drinks are on the table—feel free to grab whatever you like~ 🍰🍮🍬🍪🧋☕🧃🍵✨

Personal Description

Hi! I’m Iris. I’m a creator still in the process of learning. I’m passionate about creation,whether it’s making games, photography, or filming videos. I feel that these mediums allow me to communicate with my audience. They help me express things that I can’t put into words, whether directly or subtly. Although I don’t have advanced programming skills or professional art training, the possibilities of creative expression have never shut me out. I don’t seek complexity or extravagance in my work. My work lives in the details: a single line of dialogue, a color that lingers, a silent pause between choices. I believe that emotion doesn’t require complexity—it only needs sincerity. In a world of overwhelming media, I hope to offer moments of quiet connection. If my work can bring someone a flutter of light-heartedness, a touch of warmth, or inspire them to see something in a new way, then its purpose has already been fulfilled.

Me as a Maker-Scholar

When it comes to creation, especially in the realm of interactive storytelling, my minifestos are: I don’t really think of media as neutral tools, they’ve got personality. Sometimes they’re a bit pushy, telling us how to tell stories, who to tell them to, even what we’re “supposed” to say. But I don’t like being told what kind of storyteller I have to be. Compared to transparent windows, media are more like doors. They open onto some possibilities, but quietly shut others out. When I create, I try not to let media formats or inherited rules dictate what or how I’m “supposed” to say. Constraints can be generative, yes, but I’m always wondering: Is there another way in? Another voice missing? A story that doesn’t fit the default mold? I don’t make things for algorithms. Algorithms like things that are smooth, clear, and easy to categorize. I’m drawn to the uncertain, the fragmented, the moments that don’t quite resolve. I don’t believe every work has to be “finished” in the traditional sense. Unfinished work can still speak, and sometimes it speaks more honestly. It invites me to revisit, reimagine, rewrite, and it’s not out of failure, but out of curiosity. For me, making isn’t just a form of expression, it’s also a form of thinking. I still have so many things to figure out. Often, I only realize what I’m trying to say once I’ve started to make it. In the process, I’m talking with materials, arguing with forms, and constantly negotiating with myself. It’s rarely clean, but it’s always real. Those detours, dead ends, and improvised shifts—they’re not obstacles, they are the work. And through those moments, I’m slowly shaping not just projects, but also a way of researching, questioning, and being.