OK, this guy walks into an auto repair shop dressed as a woman to check on his twin sales guys who are standing behind the counter waiting to be tested for their rez speed. It just so happens that a friend is hanging around the shop and he asks sarcastically: hey, is your facelight bright enough? Not for me, (she) says; I can’t see a thing. Well, here, he says, I got a better one for you. So he gives (her) a new facelight, which looks like it may have been used to light up the Nurenberg rally for Leni Reifenstahl. Thanks, (she) says;  this oughta scare the papparazzi away. Yeah, they generally don’t do studio work, he says.

This is a (true) story. Bodies have been changed to protect the innocent.

“Go forth and multiply!”, she say. “Can I borrow your calculator?”, I say.

Just over a month ago I began the daunting task of creating a small tribe of avatars for an education project in Second Life. Having spent three years focusing on the subtleties of ‘synthetic individualism’ – tweaking shapes and skins and other things into distinct and credible virtual beings, I thought to myself – hell yeah, this can’t be that difficult, right? Well, I was cruising along at a pretty good clip until I hit the magic number ten and began to realize that creating fake people by the dozen was not for the faint of heart.

To make things more difficult, they all had to be ‘professionals’; that is, their appearance had to comply with the standards of the business world. Needless to say, having spent most of my real life (not to mention my virtual one) avoiding those standards by invoking my artistic license, I suddenly found myself staring into a yawning chasm, an occasional white shirt and tie drifting by. I not only had to quickly get a handle on an unfamiliar style of dress, but I had to find places to buy the damn stuff. I soon learned that there are a lot more mini skirts than pencil skirts in this little paradise of ours.

Now that it’s all over, though, I must admit it was satisfying in an odd sort of way. Not to sound megalomaniacal or anything, but it did make me feel a bit godlike, even though it was probably a bit more like being one of the elves in God’s workshop. But don’t tell that to the 21 new creatures who now believe in me. I wouldn’t want to disappoint them.

That little fox up there, btw, is Quin, my femme finale. She had just acquired that glorious crown of cascading locks and I had just enough strength left to snap a photo. A fitting image to end one of the bigger population explosions in the history of sl; 21 avatars birthed in 36 days. Would that qualify them as noobie boomers?

Anyway, I think I’ll  try to grab me a bit of sabbath. Procreating can be a lot of work, ya know.

I had just finished writing this post yesterday…. well, actually, the one I had written yesterday; this one is completely different… and just as I finished, the damn page froze and the whole thing disappeared. Odd indeed, since I hadn’t posted in a while (creative slump ya know); so it felt somehow like the gods were not at all pleased with what I had written.

Too frustrated to start over again, I picked up my Ross MacDonald mystery and went out on the back deck to read. As soon as I opened the book, though, a squadron of gardeners launched a full-out ground assault on my next door neighbor’s greenery – hedge trimmers, lawn mowers, leaf blowers – man, those gods were pissed. So, I put the book away and took my dog for a walk. Fortunately the coyote we ran into just looked at us and walked away. The coast must be clear by now; let’s try this again.

I think the problem might have been that photo up there; they probably thought we were taking over the metaverse, when we were actually just holding one of our many meetings for the upcoming Ambiguity of Identity exhibit at the Caerleon sim. The show is a virtual followup to the rl show held last April at the UMass gallery in Boston, the brainchild of Dr. Gary Zabel aka Georg Janik, and the embodiment of some of the ideas put forth in his upcoming book by the same name. His work has been cited on the blog site of the PBS documentary series, Art21, along with an interview with one of the artists, Artistide Despres.

So, now that all of that confusion about who runs the world has been straightened out, I’ll finish by naming the demigods shown in the photo above and some of the other artists in the exhibit, which will be held in September, details pending. From left to right: Pete Jiminy, freewee Ling, Fuschia Nightfire, Chrome WhatsHisName, Botgirl Questi, Gracie Kendal and Maya Paris. Participating artists also include Alizarin Goldflake, Cat Bocaccio, L1aura Loire, Lollito Larkham, RAG Rant, Sabrinaa Nightfire, Swann Jie, Taralyn Gravois and Wotthe Dickins.

Hey, maybe we do run the world.

Noted techno-electro beatmeister Cari Lekebusch (Mantis Oh in SL) threw one hell of a party to celebrate the release of his new album, State of the Art, today in Second Life. As you can see in the photo above (click to enlarge), the place was packed. Lekebusch, well known in Europe and North America for his sonic wizardry and flawless production skills, is also a familiar figure on the SL rave scene. He commissioned Hern Worsley of AVZ, creator of the legendary Poetik sim, to  build the dark and magical setting for the parties. Keep on rockin’ in the v-world.

It’s been nearly three years since I arrived at the immigration reception center in Second Life. By the time I took the shuttle over to Help Island wearing my new avatar getup I felt like I had discovered the New World, a virtual echo of my Irish forebears coming to America. At that moment I had no idea of the adventures awaiting me, and even now I’m amazed at how much of my soul has been poured into this place since then and, conversely, how much I’ve received in return.

Since that day I’ve devoted myself to probing the mysteries of the human/avatar interbeing through art, writing, and most importantly, through the creation of avatars (one of them seen above) – creatures who have evolved into fully-formed adults over time, much the way a child eventually does in First Life. Though I’ve approached this alternate reality from many angles and had innumerable discussions about the “identity issue”, it’s still the mystery of it all which I find most compelling. The virtual experience is tangible in many ways, and that’s enough to satisfy me. But, hey, I’m an artist, not a scientist.

One of the jokes that has been around from Linden Time immemorial is the notion that some day we’ll all be able to upload our brains to a database, link that data to our avatar and, voila! be rendered immortal. Though some may find that a horrifying prospect (Dr. Frankenstein comes to mind), I’ve always kind of liked the idea, perhaps because I’m so comfortable in my skin, even though it is store-bought. Now, it seems, attempts to bring that idea into reality have already begun in the physical world.

In the latest issue of New Scientist, Linda Geddes documents these wide-ranging efforts and brings to light a surprising amount of activity, some with mixed success and all in the most rudimentary stages. Though I’m sure there will be as many opinions of this quest as there are individual human databases, just speaking for myself and my avatar, I’m prepared to dump all my data into that dude even if he only becomes a reasonable facsimile of me; hell, it sure beats those old home movies. Then again, they might just stick me up in the attic as well.

Read Immortal Avatars: Back up your brain, never die, at New Scientist magazine

Above: Camille Topaz; photo by Chrome Underwood, a reasonable facsimile of Mick Brady

Proud to say that I’ve been included in a recent anthology, entitled Metaverse Art, by Josina Burgess, aka Jose Den Burger of Amsterdam, Holland; Velazquez Bonetto, aka Laszlo Ordogh Diabolus of Stuttgart, Germany; and Nazz Lane from the USA. It is part of a series of books on the subject by the authors, who are also the co-founders of the Cybernetic Art Research Project (CARP) at ArtSpace Diabolus in Second Life. CARP has been a pioneer in the field of experimental art installation in the metaverse, and has contributed significantly to the dissemination of knowledge and understanding of art in immersive virtual environments to the world at large.

The text of the publication consists of the artists’ own words, which were submitted in response to a length questionnaire, and as Josina says in the foreword, they are not edited… so you get to hear the artists voices as well as see their art. Some  of the other artists included in the anthology are Alizarin Goldflake, Artistide Despres, Dale Innis and freewee Ling. Another great job, guys.

You can purchase the book here.

You can see the CARP photo collection here.

As I was saying, after a long period of creative activity I had crash landed in the burnout zone, and in an attempt to jumpstart my mind and leave the past behind I moved into a concrete bunker nestled high in the clouds, far above the studio. This was the place I would come to for solace, silence, inspiration. Since I had neither the energy nor the desire to decorate, I thought I’d bring in my virtual sidekicks, Vanilla and Camille, and give them the run of the place. It needed a woman’s touch. I called Camille first.

Rock star, tomboy and fiercely independent soul, Camille had certainly mellowed over the past few years. Once the band broke up she seemed to have lost her way, causing a lot of soul-searching. It would have been easy for her to slip back into her comfort zone of pink nihilism and rage against the unseen, but she danced away from all that and, before I knew it, became a woman.

“I’m spent,” I said; “worn out. These empty walls suit me fine, but this is your place too, so feel free to make it more like home. I’m just a recovering artist with a creative block, so pay me no mind.”

“Ya know, Chrome, I’ve been wanting to say something for a while, but you were like a man obsessed.. you lost track of the other world, the one we depend on for our very existence. Glad to hear you’re slowing down. Now we might live to see another day.”

“Guilty as charged,” I said, smiling weakly. She smiled back, then vanished; presumably off on a shopping spree.

An hour or so later she returned, and immediately began rezzing what she referred to as ‘creative blocks’: a giant set of colorful, highly-detailed wooden children’s blocks, exactly like the ones I had played with as a child. In fact, the blocks seemed almost the size of the originals, when I was no bigger than a tadpole. Rather than filling the place with things she wanted, she went looking for something to soothe my soul. Taking my own negative words, she transformed them into something positive, something playful, something to heal the wounded child within. She, of course, being me and me being Chrome made this an act of pure, selfless, self-love.

I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together…
I am the eggman, they are the eggmen.
I am the walrus, goo goo g’joob

to be continued…

The old studio was empty. I had arrived at a dead end, creatively speaking, and it was time to move on.

I needed a new base, a new safe house, a new concrete bunker – high in the sky, far from the pain of rl and the frustrations of the virtual world below. After a brief but thorough search, I came upon a straightforward piece of postmodern architecture; dark on the inside, light on the outside, matching the current state of my soul. I rezzed a beat-up old leather couch, hunkered down and began staring at the concrete walls. It felt pretty good. I was safe. I was in a new place, with new possibilities. I soaked in the silence, the solitude, the emptiness. I was getting ready for the next stage of my journey.

I had filled the past few years with a frenzy of activity: creating a pretty decent body of digital paintings; joining forces with several virtual galleries and holding dozens of exhibits; collaborating with other artists on several projects, creating a virtual comic strip series, yada yada yada.. But the part that did me in was the building of a new website to gather all my creative activities under one big tent, including a gallery, the webcomic, this blog and several other sideshows. It felt good, but by the time I was finished, I was finished. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t create. I couldn’t even think. It was time to rest.

Once I was done savoring all those many layers of sweet silence, though, I began to wonder…. if I were to stay here for a while, would I bring anything in to make it feel more like home? An interesting question, since the emptiness seemed so comforting and, after all, what is home but a source of comfort? Since I couldn’t imagine where to begin or whether I even wanted to, I finally decided I would put the question before each of my avatars – my alts – and let them decide whether or what they wanted to hang on the walls or scatter around the floors. What happened next is a fascinating study of the fluidity of the human mind… what I call the liquid self.

to be continued…..

The year is 1998. Thom Yorke, lead singer for the rock band Radiohead, sits exhausted in the hallway of a Tokyo hotel. He’s nearing the end of a promotional tour for his new album, OK Computer, and director Grant Gee is recording his every move for the documentary film, Meeting People is Easy. In this scene he’s also being shot by a swarm of Japanese photographers, looking for all the world like a man standing in front of a firing squad. In a sense, he is.

Two of the photos taken at that instant become the basis of a magazine spread. Tracing it from the beginning, this is the journey those images have taken through the maze of media that make up our postmodern lives…

1. The Real Moment occurs.

2. Japanese photographers capture his image in that moment.

3. Grant Gee’s cameramen capture both Thom and the photographers.

4. In the interim, two of the photos become part of a magazine spread.

5. The film containing the magazine spread is shown on the Independent Film Channel.

6. I photograph the televised image of the magazine spread with my iPhone.

7. I upload the photo to my laptop.

8. I then upload the image to the virtual world of Second Life.

9. I place the image on a virtual canvas and hang it on the virtual wall of my virtual studio, then sit back in my virtual Eames chair and listen to OK Computer while reveling in the wonders of modern technology. Happy St. Patrick’s Day.

Just read an exquisite post by Dusan Writer which captures perfectly the power of imagination and the magic of the metaverse, a tribute to the creator in all of us. It brought to mind a moment which occurred recently while working on a panel for my webcomic. I suddenly realized I was living in a virtual world – a world full of serendipity yet layered with meaning, a universe of the imagination – and that it had become completely ‘natural’ to me. I was no longer in a foreign country; it actually felt like home.

That, I suppose, is one of the greatest things about being an artist…. to be able to spend one’s days marveling at the wonders of creation and then to pass a bit of that magic on to someone else. Nice work if you can get it. Thanks for the reminder, Dusan.