Back when I was a kid, computers weren't something you could just have at home. They were rare, almost mythical objects sitting in the corner of a school lab. My first real encounter with one was at my uncle's office — an Olivetti PC with a DX-286 processor. I still remember the day I played Bomberman on it for the first time. But the real turning point came when I loaded up Wolfenstein 3D. The graphics, the atmosphere, the sense of being inside another world — something about it stuck with me. That's probably the moment when the idea of making games quietly took root in my mind.
Since I didn't have a computer of my own for years, I started creating games in other ways. I built board games inspired by Risk and Monopoly, sketching maps and making my own cards and tokens. In middle school, I even made an interactive audio game using my cassette player. The player would reset the tape counter, start listening to the story, and when it came to a choice, they'd rewind or fast-forward to a specific point depending on their decision. I even added background music and sound effects using my little keyboard. Looking back, that was probably my first real game.
When I got to high school, my family finally bought our first home computer — a Pentium 120 with a mighty 8 MB of EDO RAM and, surprisingly, an 8× CD-ROM drive. The shop had pre-installed a demo of Command & Conquer, and that blew my mind wide open. That's when I realized games weren't just entertainment — they were worlds built from imagination, sound, and logic working together.
During those years I tried making small projects using Macromedia Flash, PowerPoint, and even MS Paint, but nothing felt quite right. At university, I learned Pascal and wrote my first "serious" program — a graveyard record system. It worked… but I couldn't imagine making a game out of that.
Years passed, and I found myself drawn to other creative outlets — short films, photography, and stage art. I loved telling stories, exploring choices, and building meaning through visuals and emotion. Just like games, really — only in different forms.
Then, much later, Unreal Engine became free to use, and that changed everything. I came back to game development with a fresh passion. I started taking courses, studying programming through open university, and even joined a full-stack developer program to strengthen my technical side.
My first published game — Brick Cracker 3D — actually began as a graduation project. Releasing it on Steam felt surreal. I still remember the thrill (and anxiety) of reading the first player reviews. Every piece of feedback, good or bad, was exciting — because it meant someone out there was playing something I made.
In 2024, I decided to take the next step and created Pixcodream — my little corner of the universe where creativity meets code and pixels. It's not just a name; it's a reflection of how I see this craft. Games, to me, are stories you experience, not just stories you read.
Today, I'm still that same kid who used to imagine worlds on paper and record stories on cassette tapes — only now I can bring them to life through code, art, and sound. I make indie games that focus on atmosphere, emotion, and story. They don't need to be huge or flashy — they just need to make you feel something.
I don't see games as just games — I see them as moments that could exist in another universe, waiting to be lived.
When you stop to look at the horizon in a game, when you listen to the music or the sound of the wind, or when your heart beats a little faster before making an important choice — I feel that too.
That's what I try to capture.
My goal isn't simply to make games, but to make you experience that feeling — the quiet realization that, for a brief moment, you were somewhere else, truly there.
Have a question, feedback, or just want to say hi? I'd love to hear from you!
