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.

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.

“It’s been a long, long time coming,” as the man once sang, “but change is gonna come.” This particular change has been in the works for a long time here in the Chrome Zone, but now, it would appear, it is on the horizon: noted techno pop artist Manhattan Atlas has joined our growing team of troublemakers. Given the name, you might assume he’s from New York but, alas, you’d be wrong. He’s actually a native of Turkey, where his mother was born, but moved to America as a young man to attend art school. His father was a cabdriver in New York; thus, the colorful first name.

His primary interest is in digital painting from within virtual worlds with the intent of capturing the inner lives of their inhabitants, offering it as a mirror for humanity to catch a glimpse of its own foibles and frivolities. Manhattan has been Chrome’s virtual apprentice for the past year and a half, and now feels he is ready to venture out on his own. He’s begun a series of avatar portraits called Face/Time, and plans to have them ready for exhibition in the near future. Though it might be difficult to resist riding on Chrome’s coattails, he is determined to establish his reputation as an artist in his own right. He might even give Chrome a run for his money.

Photo: Manhattan with one of his new paintings, None of the Above. Click to enlarge.

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

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.

Every now and then I grow weary of the visual (and yes, sensory) overload in Second Life, and long for something simple, something not so.. primary. And lately, rather than unplugging and heading for the beach (yeah, sad but true; I live in Santa Barbara and still do most of my surfing in SL), I am more likely to slip away into the wonderful world of wireframe.

Wireframe is a place beneath a place; a world where nothing is hidden, where you’re confronted by the stark reality that we are all math after all, and where, like Superman, I can see right through you. In fact, I can not only see right through you but also through the building behind you, and on and on all the way to that wiry horizon back there. For an artist who tends to spend too much time in an abstract-expressionist frame of mind, it is pure delight to wander this minimalist utopia. It clears the mind, calms the soul, and reminds one of the structure, the underpinnings of it all… the mesh we are all made of.

When all is revealed and one sees that mesh, that gridwork – oddly enough, it still contains much of the emotional content of the textured world. A motorcycle becomes a lacy whirl of linear confection, as though it were made to eat rather than ride. That lovely woman who moves so many parts of you is transformed into a beautiful web of glossy sugar strands. I’m looking through you, The Beatles once sang, but even though you’re not the same, it’s still you. Sugar is spun into cotton candy, after all.

To go behind the curtain is to see virtual life in its raw form, without the seductive power of texture, to see the ‘reality’ behind the illusion. I love this part of the metaverse almost as much as I love the surface world, probably for the same reason I love to wander the deserts of the southwest in rl…. it is nature at its most honest; a place where nothing can be hidden, a place where the ground meets the sky and the eye meets its maker.

To get to this magical place, just head for the Advanced menu, scroll down to Rendering, turn right and scroll down to Wireframe. Or, just double-shift using the keyboard command Control-Shift-R, and you’re off.

Author’s Note: For those readers who saw this when it was first published and might be wondering if they were imagining things, I decided to pull the photo of Chrome and Juliette and replace it for one simple reason: this closeup of a custom Harley chopper more clearly illustrates the point I was trying to make regarding the delicate beauty of the wireframe mode. Besides, I was getting tired of seeing my face up there. That’s two, I know, but…

Over dinner once an American friend quizzed Charles Dickens about the workings of his imagination. Where on earth did those wonderful characters come from? “What an unfathomable mystery there is in it all!” replied the creator of Little Nell, Oliver Twist, Ebenezer Scrooge, Uriah Heep, Miss Havisham, Pip, Pickwick and the rest. Raising a wine glass, he continued: “Suppose I choose to call this a character, fancy it a man, endue it with certain qualities; and soon the fine filmy webs of thought, coming from every direction, we know not whence, spin and weave about it, until it assumes form and beauty, and becomes instinct with life.”

- From a review of Charles Dickens by Michael Slater in the Economist

Can’t keep his mind on nothin’ else...

Couldn’t help singing that old Percy Sledge classic, either, as I slowly put together my latest alt, Juliette. As a Second Life blogger, photographer and artist, it’s nice to have a stealth avatar to move smoothly and quietly – and anonymously – through the metaverse, in search of action. It’s become even more crucial now that Chrome has become so damn popular. I don’t know what it is about that guy, but he can’t log in without running ino a shit storm of IMs these days. Me, I prefer things a bit quieter. I like to be able to observe, think and create on the fly, without all the distractions of fame – or notoriety, as the case may be.

So, I decided a while ago that I would develop a pretty strong bench of backup avs that I could call on for a variety of roles, depending upon the state of play on any given day. Thus, la mia Capo di tutti capi, Chrome Underwood- handsome, young, mysterious and worldly – gets to do most of the heavy lifting. He’s the go-to guy for the paparazzi, the art openings, social events, business meetings and the like. Poor fellow.

Fortunately for him, though, he has an identical twin, Manhattan, who has proven to be more of an adventurer and is thus free to wander the seven seas of the Metaverse like a virtual gypsy. He’s the one who’s more than likely to be found slipping through cracks in the sidewalk in search of the original Nexus Prime, gliding down a darkened alley in Kowloon, or meditating in silence at Gion. He is l’artista in azione, the artist in action.

Next, I added Rooster, a leathery old former Special Forces guy who’s probably the toughest member of the team, and to be quite honest, doesn’t take too kindly to being bossed around by these younger guys. So, in order to soften some of the rough edges, and smooth some ruffled feathers, I introduced them all to Juliette. They immediately quieted down, and even got a little starry-eyed. It was, to be honest, a bit embarassing.

Though I’ve only been on a few shopping trips with her to set up her basic appearance thus far, I’ve already begun to learn that wherever Juliette goes, if there are any male avs in the vicinity, the temperature goes up at least a couple of degrees Linden. Since she is basically a lab rat, though (sorry, honey), I only allow her to flirt a bit and then provide her with a clever excuse to slip out of the conversation. Oops! Gotta run. Time for the kids to take their Ritalin.

I have a lot more sympathy for women already, though. Man, this is a lot of work. I wonder if there are any stores in Second Life that sell pepper spray.