Nathalie Lawhead, creator of Blue Suburbia

Explorer of interactive poetry, pioneer of net art and key figure of the independent scene, Nathalie Lawhead — alias Alien Melon — has been building digital worlds where intimacy, absurdity and surrealism intersect for more than two decades. In this interview, we talk to her about the evolution of Blue Suburbia, how the intimate feeds her art, the precariousness of the indie scene, the ever-persistent toxicity of the industry, and what remains to be defended on the fringes of video games. Through his clear, committed and deeply human voice, a vision of gaming as a space for resonance, freedom and collective creation takes shape.

Point’n Think: Hello Nathalie! Could you introduce yourself for the readers who may not yet be familiar with your work?

Nathalie Lawhead:I work online under the name Alien Melon. I started out as a net artist in the late 90s, and then moved on to video games. At first, I had a bit of trouble using the word “game” to talk about my work, because it was a bit of a strange label, often misunderstood. But over time, games started to encompass more and more digital art, so I ended up really entering that space.

Today, I think some of my work can clearly be categorized as games, but many of my interests remain rooted in digital art in the broad sense, everything you can do with a computer, in fact.

Point’n Think: You manage to mix video game design, digital art, interactive poetry… Blue Suburbia is a good example of this. For me, this is exactly where video games should be heading, or at least where they should be looking for inspiration. How would you describe your creative process when you start a new work?

Nathalie: I think it goes back to the early 2000s, when I decided that this was what I wanted to do 100%. At that time, there was a whole movement around creative websites in Flash. People were really talking about websites as a new emerging art form. Some websites even had composers creating soundtracks.

It was really focused on interactivity, with rich experiences where everything moved, where you explored in 3D. It’s hard to explain today, because when I say “website”, we immediately think of vertical scrolling, but at the time, they were really digital spaces, worlds. It was a bit like the Wild West: everyone was trying to create something totally unique. The mindset was to do something never seen before. And I think that mentality stayed with me: exploring creativity through the computer, seeing how far you can go, how you can express what you feel, who you are, through these machines.

Games have become a kind of umbrella term for everything related to digital technology. But I always try to go beyond the simple “I’m making a game”. I try to think in terms of digital art, of software as art. Even a desktop pet is art to me. I like to explore this whole computer culture, this form of expression specific to our machines.

Point’n Think: You said it: the term “video game” is sometimes a bit of an oversimplification when talking about this type of creation. Works where you play, but not like in a game in the traditional sense. Before talking more about Blue Suburbia, one thing I noticed is that several of your works have an autobiographical dimension. Do you decide from the outset to include something personal?

Nathalie:I have always been fascinated by the idea that art is the expression of what we have experienced. For me, art is intrinsically personal. The very first project I did was Blue Suburbia. And it was already very vulnerable, very intimate. What struck me was that years later – literally ten years after the project was no longer online – people were still writing to me to tell me how much it had meant to them, that it had helped them through difficult times, that they had grown with it. And I realized that by being vulnerable in your work, you create a space where others can feel seen, can exist.

It’s something really precious. And in a medium like video games, it’s even stronger: you don’t just watch or listen, you inhabit this space that someone has entirely imagined for you. It’s a space for reconnection, for resonance. That’s where games, in my opinion, are a natural evolution of art. Well, I’ve also done lighter things like Tetrageddon, which wasn’t personal at all – it was absurd, funny, chaotic.

But I admit that I missed that connection. That moment when you see people playing your work, finding their way in it, being moved… It’s something unique. And you see it even in AAA games: there’s always a scene, a sequence that touches someone deeply. People get hooked on it, they come back to it, they talk about it years later. I think it’s because the games make each person responsible for what they do, for how they act in the space. And so when it touches you, it touches you really hard.

Point’n Think: How has Blue Suburbia evolved? What made you want to come back to it?

Nathalie: When I was working on the first version, I was really obsessed with the idea of creating a very animated, interactive world of poetry – a place where poems are alive. The aim was to make people feel the poem, not just read it. To literally put them in the poem. And I still think there was something very beautiful about it. It was a lot of work in terms of animation, design…

Then Flash disappeared, and with it, the world I had created. It was never really digested. It always left a bitter taste in my mouth. This world that had meant so much to so many people… disappeared. When I started learning Unreal, I thought it was the perfect opportunity to revive Blue Suburbia. This time, it wouldn’t just be a two-dimensional space: you could really enter it, move around in it. And I asked myself: what would a 3D poem be like? How could we really experience a poem in three-dimensional space?

That’s what I’m exploring today. Creating a universe where you can feel the poetry, where you remain captivated by what you experience, what you go through. Now I’ve found my rhythm. But at the beginning it was terrifying. I had never done 3D before, it was my first project in this format. I kept thinking: “Will I be able to do it? Will it be rubbish?” But in the end, it worked. I’m really relieved that it did. Above all, I didn’t want all that work, all those memories, to disappear for good. It would have been too sad, given how much this project had meant to other people.

Point’n Think: From a technical point of view, how did you go about recreating Blue Suburbia? It was the first time you had worked in 3D, wasn’t it? Did you use Unreal?

Nathalie:Yes, I used Unreal Engine. Blue Suburbia was originally a web project. And with the evolution of the internet, it was hard for me to accept that the web was becoming a much less artistic space. There are still some very beautiful niches, but this desire to exploit the web as an art platform has faded a bit. I still wanted to keep it alive, so I integrated into Blue Suburbia works created with Bitsy, PocketFlag, Former, Decker… all these tools that run in a browser.

You move through these 3D worlds, and from time to time, you switch to web-based experiences. It breaks the rhythm a little, it takes you out of your usual space, and I find that very interesting. It mixes 3D with more “classic” 2D. And for the writing, it works very well. So yes, Unreal for the structure, but also lots of tools like Bitsy.

Point’n Think: What also stands out when you play Blue Suburbia is this very strong feeling of loneliness… but also moments of pure beauty, of pure wonder. It’s a bit of a difficult question, but how do you manage this balance between darkness and hope?

Nathalie: Games have something really unique about them. For me, they are software, but very special software, which allows you to create whole worlds, kingdoms, almost life. What I find fascinating is the way these worlds break down, how you constantly struggle to give them a more real form – but they remain fundamentally surreal.

That’s what makes them perfect for talking about poetry or surrealism. Games are already strange in themselves. The simple fact of existing in a game is strange. With Blue Suburbia, I wanted each space to resemble a dream. And when we dream, we are alone. Even if there are people around us, they are always a little distorted, foreign, sometimes even disturbing. Nothing is quite real.

I try to capture this feeling of isolation, even when you are surrounded. This feeling of insecurity, of uncertainty in the face of what you are experiencing. But at the same time, at the heart of this existential angst, there is a profound beauty: that of simply existing. That’s why Blue Suburbia is a medium for poetry. The last piece I added is called A Butterfly. You are a butterfly exploring a desert populated by giant titans – a kind of graveyard of giants. The poem is about emerging from the cocoon, about having to abandon an old form in order to move forward. It’s very metaphorical, and I try to make the setting reinforce the meaning of the text.

Because you are alone in these places, you are forced to face yourself, to think about what you are doing there, about your role in this poem. My goal is really to create a space for personal reflection, where you think about yourself, about life. And for that, the surrealist nature of video games helps enormously.

Point’n Think: If we return to the video game industry today, we are in an era where the majority of games are judged solely on their mechanics. How do you perceive the reception of more experimental works, such as yours, or digital art in the broadest sense, by a wider audience?

Nathalie: That’s an interesting question, because I’ve had the opportunity to organize quite a few events around art games in the United States. One of the most memorable was at the LA Zine Fest. We brought Bitsy and lots of little experimental art games.

And what was really magical was seeing “average” people, for whom video games are Counter-Strike or something like that, arrive in the space. At first, they would all say, “Oh, I don’t know, I’m not good at games.” And then they would start exploring, a little timidly… And after a few minutes, you could see they were completely absorbed.

And in the end, they would look at you with stars in their eyes, saying: “But I didn’t know games could be like that. Where can I find more like this?!”

You could literally see their minds opening up, as if they were discovering a new world. And I think that’s the real problem with art and experimental games: it’s a question of visibility, of game “literacy”. People have a very fixed idea of what a game is. They imagine that it’s not for them, when in fact there is a whole universe of creations that would speak to them deeply… if only they knew it existed. Steam, having become the default platform, is also a problem. Itch.io is great, but not well known. And yet I’m sure thousands of people would love what they find there… if only they knew it existed.

Point’n Think: At the moment, there is a lot of discussion about moving away from Steam, Unreal, Unity, and more broadly from this kind of monopoly on the industry. You can feel that the independent scene wants to break free from the giants of the sector. And in fact, in the development of independent games, there is often talk of this space of creative freedom. But unfortunately, there is also a form of isolation, of precariousness. What I often notice when interviewing young studios is that for many, the first game is thought of as a “one shot”. Everything is put into it, because it may be the only cartridge. And you, over the years, what have been the biggest challenges you’ve faced as an independent designer? Are there one or two that come to mind right away?

Nathalie: For me, I would say that I design each game as if I were going to go as far as possible with it, without knowing how much longer I’ll be able to do it.

It’s an easy space to enter, but extremely difficult to stay in.

And given the state of the industry at the moment… I get the impression that all the news summaries I subscribe to are about layoffs. Even studios that have been successful, that have sold their games well, find themselves making cuts. There’s no logic to it.

So even if you do everything “right”, even if you’re in the mainstream, in a big company, you’re still in a precarious situation.

So, for me, the most realistic choice today is to see the game as an art form, and to go it alone. Because then you have real control over your work. You alone make the decisions, you alone assume the risk. You don’t put other people in danger. Ten years ago, saying that might have seemed absurd, because there was still a lot of money in video games. But today, I think we’re at a point where everyone should take a break and step back. Nothing is really sustainable. So if you keep doing this, it’s because you really love it.

Point’n Think: Speaking of which, I watched one of your lectures on YouTube, where you talked about a somewhat heavy subject: abuse and toxicity in the gaming industry. Since that talk, do you feel like things are changing? Do you perceive an improvement, even a small one, from your point of view?

Nathalie: It’s complicated. I feel like it’s a bit like dancing the cha-cha-cha… One step forward, two steps back. You never really know if things are improving, or if it’s just an illusion. One day you think things are going well, and the next day you see someone being harassed again. I would say that what is changing is that the alternatives are becoming stronger. I don’t think toxicity has disappeared. If you get harassed enough times, you start to recognize the patterns: where the attacks are coming from, who the groups behind them are (often 4chan or Kiwi Farms), what kind of person is feeding them…

You realize how deeply rooted these toxic subcultures are in video games. But at the same time, you also see that spaces like itch.io or smaller, less toxic communities exist—and above all that they are growing. Before, it was very confidential. Today, even people who don’t necessarily play know that it exists. And that, for me, is a real sign of improvement. I don’t think you can “fix” toxic places. But you can build elsewhere. And the fact that it’s holding its own, that it’s growing, is already huge.

Point’n Think: BlueSky reminds me of that: a space where you can interact peacefully, without that constant tension. And on the question of visibility: do you think these platforms today have the recognition they deserve? Do we see more content creators talking about them, for example?

Nathalie: Yes, I think we should start by understanding one thing: Itch.io can’t do everything. It’s a very small organization, and as far as I know, there’s only one person who manages almost everything. So at a certain point, I think it’s also up to us, the developers or enthusiasts, to take over. To curate, to create content around all of this, to circulate the games we like. For me, it’s always been a community project.

Look at the money Itch.io has generated for charities: it’s all community-driven, and if you add it all up, we’re talking millions. At one point, I had tried to summarize how much had been raised in total, and it was impressive. So yes, when we talk about Itch.io, we also have to talk about collective responsibility. It’s up to us to keep these games alive, to push them, to promote them. And I find it fascinating to think about what the future of game curation might be.

Recently, I started to observe where this visibility was moving: which new channels are emerging, which types of content are developing. A lot is happening on Instagram too, with streamers or artists sharing games, even if it’s often still linked to Steam. But given the current crisis in the industry – the layoffs, the job insecurity – I think all of this is also shaking up the way games are discovered. And I’m not sure we’re talking about that enough yet. How will curation evolve? And how can we make it better?

Point’n Think: You’ve worked with quite a few tools — Twine, Unity… How do you approach software as a creative medium? You were talking about it a little earlier, coming from Flash and the era of websites. Do you have a favorite tool today? A space where you feel more comfortable creating?

Nathalie: Yes, even after learning to use Unreal – and I think I’m starting to get the hang of it – my favorite is still Air. It was originally an Adobe technology, but they passed it on to Harman. So now it’s called Harman Air. But basically, it’s still Flash and ActionScript. You can still use Flash, now renamed Animate, to create apps or games in Air. And it’s a bit strange, because it’s a tool that many think is dead… When in reality, the platform continues to live and evolve.

For me, this technology remains incredibly beautiful – and misunderstood. It allows you to do a lot of things. It comes from the era of artistic websites, it has evolved with games, then with apps. And it allows you to navigate this border between software and video games. You can make games that have a “software” sensibility, and software that is fun, colorful, exuberant. Whereas if you use other more traditional tools for software development, you lose that visual freedom. So yes, my favorite will probably always be this Flash/Air platform. Both alive… and dead.

Point’n Think: Today, there is a real explosion of no-code tools, or accessible engines that allow a lot of people to create without necessarily having a background in code or design. Do you think that this democratization of game design could change the way we perceive video games as a medium?

Nathalie: I think that despite all the current difficulties surrounding digital freedom, it’s an incredible time to create. We have ultra-powerful tools that break down barriers. For many people, code is an obstacle – and these tools allow anyone to get started. And what comes out of it is often magnificent. You’ll see people with a musical background creating games that are very sound-oriented. Or others, with a background in animation, producing very visual games. And this diversity of approaches is really made possible because barriers have been broken down.

This kind of democratization, for me, is essential to the health of a medium. A medium begins to wither as soon as we start putting up walls, creating barriers, unnecessarily complicating processes. Take Apple, for example – I find it a very hostile environment for developers. You have to pay $100 a year to publish. The tools are strange, sometimes unnecessarily complicated. Everything is designed to make your game fit the way Apple wants it to be. And for me, it’s the perfect example of a system that doesn’t really welcome creators.

Whereas today, we are still in what I call the “golden age” of indie. Anyone can come in, create a game, find their voice, and exist on their own terms. And that is precious. And often underestimated. Especially when you’re right in the middle of it. But maybe by becoming aware of this opportunity, we can defend it. The history of digital culture is full of moments when this accessibility has been lost. But today, games have that. That freedom, that community, that power of expression. And if we realize it, maybe we can make it last.

Point’n Think: How do you see your work evolving in the coming years? Are there any new mediums or formats you’d like to explore?

Nathalie: Right now, what I really want is to become excellent in 3D. That’s what I’m pursuing 100%. Creating real 3D worlds where you feel like you’re in a dream, where everything is immersive, strange, beautiful… It’s my current obsession.

Point’n Think: To conclude, if there were one or two things you’d like people to remember about your work, what would they be?

Nathalie: That you can do it too. You can do that. Video games are accessible and egalitarian. Solo development is a truly legitimate path. Anyone can get started, find their voice, and create something that reflects who they are. Don’t think you can’t — you can.