As a mixed-race Chicagoan artist with a background in interactive narrative design, I spent years chasing digital luck not as chance—but as choice. In quiet moments between coding sessions, I learned that true reward isn't in the spin, but in the pause: the way you choose to play when no one’s watching. This is not a game. It’s a ritual.

As a Brooklyn-born digital artist raised between Jewish mysticism and African spiritual rhythms, I turned gaming into sacred ritual. In 'Lucky Pig,' I found that luck isn't random—it's the quiet choice to show up, to pause, to feel seen. This is not about winning. It’s about how the sugar light still glows when you walk away from the machine. Let me tell you how.

As a Chicago-born digital media artist raised on jazz, street art, and the quiet resilience of mixed heritage, I used to chase luck like a child chasing fireflies—until I realized it wasn’t about winning. It was about the stillness between losses. This is not a game of chance. It’s a mirror for the soul. Here’s what I learned when I stopped playing.