Tear Shaped Door

Tear Shaped Door is an interactive game installation in which players can lick a boot clean. The fastest lick is recorded and displayed on the secondary screen.

DATE

2024

CONTEXT

Created as a personal project.

MEDIUM

Unity

PEOPLE

Vinny Roca  :  Game design, concept, visuals, and programming

Tear Shaped Door is an interactive game installation in which players can lick a boot clean. The fastest lick is recorded and displayed on the secondary screen.

—–

I found the tear shaped door to be a pool of water, floating upwards and upwards.

you hung there with me as we held on tightly to the spinning helicopter blade.

the blades whirled the door, you, I, and their own connected body upward into orange and red.

leaving behind choice events of mud, surface tension, and burnt rubber – we headed to the prospect of new form, floating amongst the clouds.

you weren’t you and I wasn’t I, at least only in representation – we seemed to be merely machinic (I could tell because I had that metallic taste in my mouth, the same I would get after cooking tomatoes in that busted aluminum pan).

it turned out to be, upon close inspection of our own forms, I was only a bolt and you maybe were a screw or a nut, or something – I couldn’t tell exactly, you just kept saying “why am I hardware?”.

in this state, the spinning went on and we attempted to rationalize what was happening – we decided to start from the center, first, make sense of what first transformed into what. We made mental lists of all the new abstractions we could come up with. You said, “Digestion is on the top of my list, what’s on the top of yours?” – I could only think of “Amalgam”, I was embarrassed by this and said “Feet is on my top!” instead. At perhaps the absurdity, you tried to laugh but it seemed to only cause a strange vibration that led to a multi-minute headache – we decided to stay quiet for a bit

shortly after, the tear-shaped door, that pool of water, finally became leather and mesh and formed its shape into a boot

you said I must be a prophet because I was thinking about feet and look now, the door is now a big boot! I said I must be, and we both tried to laugh this time, and then came the laughing metal headache again, pounding it seemed, with the whirling of the blades which we decided we must have been a part of

when it passed, and our minds seemed to settle, we agreed just to let ourselves whirl for some time and leave the boot off our list at least until we had time to figure the rest out.

But what about the guillotine?