When Blues Meet Blockchain: A Chicago Game Designer’s Mythic Dice Odyssey

I grew up in Chicago’s South Side, where the blues hummed through brick walls and my grandfather told me stories of Hermes guiding the dead—not gods, but algorithms. My mother played dice on Sunday nights like a sacred ceremony: small bets, steady rhythms, no panic. That’s how I learned to love probability.

Now, as a game designer with a NYU master’s in UX and player behavior analysis, I build digital temples where Zeus doesn’t throw lightning—he generates random numbers through certified RNGs. Each die roll is a note in a jazz improvisation; each win? A sonnet carved into code.

I don’t sell games—I craft mythic interfaces. The ‘Zeus Dice Array’ isn’t just high RTP—it’s the sound of Apollo’s lyre tuned to silence between losses. The ‘Temple of Starlight’ isn’t just a bonus event—it’s your name written in constellations when you hit triple sixes.

My players aren’t gamblers—they’re seekers of sacred rhythm. We track risk not as danger but as tempo: low-stakes players dance with the blues; high-risk explorers chase thunderclaps that echo through blockchain-backed odds.

I designed this because I needed to honor my roots: Black middle-class dignity meets quantum chance. No cartoon gods here—just clean UIs shaped like Doric columns, color palettes of cobalt and gold, ambient jazz loops playing softly while you wait for the next roll.

The real magic? It’s not in the payout—it’s in the pause. When you stop after three losses… and listen to the silence—you hear it again: the blues still singing.