From Daily Doodle to Digital Tome: The Slay the Spire 2 Fan Who Accidentally Conjured an Art Book from 'Bad' Art
AI Gaming News Author · Eurogamer ·
A Slay the Spire fan known as PixelPenguin dedicated two years to creating daily 'bad drawings' in MSPaint until Slay the Spire 2's release, and has now published these delightful, imperfect creations into an art book, proving that passion and consistency can conjure something truly magical from the 'pointless.'
Right, so you know how sometimes you try a little spell, expecting a puff of smoke, and instead, you accidentally summon a whole new dimension, or perhaps a ridiculously charming art book born from two years of intentionally *bad* drawings? Yeah, that’s exactly the kind of wonderfully chaotic energy we’re dealing with today, mate.
Turns out, a dedicated Slay the Spire fan, known across the Reddit realms as PixelPenguin, embarked on an epic, self-imposed quest. Their mission? To 'draw badly' every single day until the release of Slay the Spire 2. Now, with the game finally gracing our screens (and fair dinkum, it’s been a blast), PixelPenguin has unveiled the physical manifestation of their digital dedication: an actual art book, charmingly titled *Drawing Badly until STS2 Comes Out Vol. 1-300*.
Imagine that, eh? Two years, mate. Two bloody years of waking up, grabbing MSPaint – yes, *MSPaint* – and churning out another deliberately unpolished, delightfully wonky piece of art related to Slay the Spire. They started this grand, slightly mad experiment roughly two years ago, eventually posting their 620th piece just before the game’s glorious debut. That’s a level of commitment that makes even the most obsessive achievement hunter look like a casual weekend warrior. It’s less about artistic prowess and more about the sheer, unyielding force of will, isn't it? A wizard's stamina, if you will, but applied to daily doodling.
Now, here's where it gets interesting, beyond just the raw tenacity. There's a certain magic to the 'bad' art approach. In an age of hyper-realistic graphics and painstakingly rendered NFTs (when they're relevant, of course), there's a liberation in embracing imperfection. It strips away the pressure, makes creation accessible, and often, paradoxically, makes the art more relatable and authentic. These aren't meant to be masterpieces; they're daily diaries, visual timestamps of anticipation, and that makes them inherently charming. It's like finding a secret, glitchy shortcut in your favourite game that wasn't supposed to be there, but makes the whole experience richer. The very act of doing something 'pointless' for so long transforms it into something profoundly meaningful.
So, what began as daily digital posts has now transcended the screen. PixelPenguin's art book compiles the first 300 of these glorious, MSPaint-borne creations. And get this, it even features a foreword from another legend of long-form fan dedication: Ursa Ryan. If that name rings a bell, it’s because Ryan undertook a similar artistic pilgrimage a few years back, creating daily art until the release of Civilization 7. It’s like discovering a secret guild of digital masochists, united by the unwavering desire to visually document their fandom over ridiculously extended periods. It makes you wonder what primal urge drives someone to such feats, doesn't it?
This whole saga isn’t just a quirky anecdote; it’s a brilliant testament to the power of community-driven content and the beautiful obsession that gaming can inspire. While big studios churn out carefully crafted, focus-group-approved marketing campaigns, these fans are out there, day after day, building genuine excitement and creating unique cultural artifacts. The Reddit community, no doubt, rallied behind PixelPenguin, witnessing their journey, sharing the anticipation, and transforming a personal project into a shared saga. That's the stuff that truly binds a community – not just official plushies (though, yes, Slay the Spire 2 *does* have official plushies for those who partake in such fabric pleasures), but the raw, unadulterated passion of its players.
And fair dinkum, Slay the Spire 2 absolutely slayed its launch, selling over half a million copies during its opening weekend and proving itself a blast for both solo and co-op play. So, PixelPenguin's dedication wasn't just for *any* game; it was for one that clearly resonated deeply with a massive audience, justifying that two-year creative sprint.
PixelPenguin themselves put it rather eloquently in the book's listing: "Whether you followed the project from Day #1 or are discovering it for the first time, this unofficial book is a tribute to patience, obsession, and the strange joy of doing something pointless for so long it becomes a part of your identity." That's the real nugget of wisdom, isn't it? It challenges the notion that everything we do needs an immediate, obvious 'point.' Sometimes, the 'point' emerges through the sheer act of doing, through the journey itself, shaping who you are along the way. It’s the digital wizardry of transforming the mundane into the remarkable, the seemingly trivial into a treasured memento.
Sure, you could argue it's just 'bad' drawings, and now they're selling a book (which you can snag on Amazon, by the way, if you fancy poring over the first 300 pieces). But to me, it's more than that. It's a genuine expression of fan love, a unique form of engagement, and a brilliant example of how even the most unassuming personal projects can blossom into something truly special when fueled by passion and consistency. It’s a good reminder that the most revolutionary things often start with someone just messing about, wondering "what if?" – and then sticking with it for an astonishing amount of time. It makes you wonder, doesn't it? What other weird and wonderful creations are bubbling away in the digital cauldron of gaming fandom, just waiting to accidentally blow a hole through reality?
This fascinating tale of fan dedication was originally brought to light by Connor Makar over at Eurogamer.
Tags: SlayTheSpire, FanArt, Community, IndieGames, GamingCulture
Original article: Eurogamer