Several days ago I slipped into my virtual identity as Chrome Underwood with the click of a mouse, strapped on my invisible jetpack and headed straight up into the stratosphere to attend the opening of an art show so staggering in size that it took a sizeable chunk of the heavens just to contain it all.

The show, called “Kiss the Sky,” was curated by SL artist DanCoyote Antonelli (aka DC Spensley in Real Life), and sponsored by the New Media Consortium and the new Museum of Hyperformalism. This larger-than-real life show consisted of works by over a dozen well-known artists that have been dazzling the residents of Second Life with art installations since 2006. Collectively, their work has become a virtual art movement recently named Hyperformalism.

Put in its simplest terms, Hyperformalism is a type of abstract art created and displayed in a virtual environment. But to put it in its proper context, we should note that it is a direct descendant of the 20th Century art movement known as Formalism, or Modernism, which relied purely on color, line, shape and texture without reference to realism, content or context. In other words, in Formalism the aesthetic value of the object was based purely on its form.

Early in the 21st century, however, artists who began moving into Second Life soon realized that here they were not constrained by the laws of physics and other small annoyances, and were thus free from many of the limitations that their earthbound counterparts were subject to. In this new virtual environment they discovered that anything one can imagine can be created, as though with the wave of a magic wand. Well, not quite that easily, but it certainly has that kind of magic about it.

In a virtual environment, for instance, gravity is optional, so objects can be suspended in space,; they can be fully immersive, interactive, kinetic, and can also occur in 2, 3, and 4 dimensions simultaneously. One can even walk through walls if one knows how. So, to an artist, you must understand, this is virtual heaven. Perhaps that’s why this show took place at such a high altitude.

But all of this raises an important question. If anything one can imagine can be created out of thin air, so to speak, and the entire metaverse of Second Life is a wonderland of created objects and forms, why separate out a certain part of it and label it art? If we are now in an entirely new world – far, far, from the exhausting and boring constraints of the old – why drag all of the questions, quanderies, debates and dead ends of that intellectual world with us into this one? Why not start from scratch and redefine the entire notion of art? Even better, why not throw it away?

I hope to be revisiting this subject frequently in future posts; it’s an important subject, to say the least. A good part of my life was spent either making, exhibiting, or teaching art, and, not unlike a sibling with whom I’ve endured a tempestuous relationship over the years and yet still love him to death, I’m not exactly eager to part with it myself. I also don’t want to leave you with the impression that I’m belittling or ridiculing the artists of Second Life (or those of planet earth, for that matter).

It’s just that, having spent nearly a year in SL now, having seen many of its wonders and having talked to many of its most creative inhabitants, I’ve come to the conclusion that this may be one of the biggest opportunities – and challenges – of our lifetimes. Here we have a chance to start completely anew, to level the playing field – even become the playing field if we wish; and with the creative wattage that’s now plugged in here, we have a chance to become fellow synapses in the cosmic brain… to create without constraint. Hell, why bother to apply them now?

Here in the metaverse, since even the ground beneath us is a work of art, we have now all become artists. We don’t need chilled champagne and caviar to introduce someone’s work anymore; we just need to wander over, fly through, or take a ride on it and then sit back, pop open a beer and hang out on the back porch and marvel at it together, like we would if it were a newly pin-striped ’32 Ford street rod.

Whaddaya say we call it Hypernormalism?

*View the entire collection of photos taken by Chrome Underwood at the Kiss the Sky exhibit on flickr:

Life is suffering, the great Buddha said.

That doesn’t speak well of the Author of this play, of course, unless there’s a higher purpose behind it all. Our task then, in the midst of our pain, is to somehow suspend our disbelief and attempt to discern His intentions – not an easy thing to do while being buffeted by the blows of The Great Heavyweight Champ Himself. If you have the right spirit, though, you’ll go the distance and come out smiling, even though you’ll never win the fight.

I’ve learned anew some of the basic lessons of suffering myself in recent weeks, including the fundamental but jarring realization that no man is exempt from it. While it is true that it does always happen to the other guy, you must never forget that to everyone else, you are the other guy. This past few weeks it was my turn. Again.

While I prefer not to go into the details of my suffering, I will allow that it is the suffering of a father for the fate of his daughter, and that every day, every hour, every minute has inflicted a new wound, a new and unexpected source of pain; a kind of “death by a thousand cuts.” But for me, surprisingly, it has gradually become more of a “renewal by a thousand band-aids.” Let me explain.

At moments like this, of course, there’s no way to escape the searing fire; nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Not to be overly dramatic, but I’m reminded of the poor soldier in the midst of a long forgotten battle who, having just had his foot shattered by a cannonball, is given a swig of whiskey and a twisted rag of cotton to bite down on as they saw off his leg. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

I don’t mean to imply that I’m the poor fellow on the table, though; more like the one lying over there on a nearby pallet. Unable to escape, unable to avert his eyes, unable to plug his ears, and ultimately, powerless to do anything whatsoever to stop this horrific scene – he grits his teeth and bears it, knowing all the while that, ironically, this incomprehensible pain is somehow necessary for his friend to survive.

Nearly three weeks have gone by since this roller coaster ride through hell began, and there are now signs of light beginning to appear here and there, and they’re clearly not coming from the flames. The false veneer of what once seemed so important in the routine of everyday life has been stripped away, and the real feelings of love and remorse, buried deep within the hearts of those inside the circle of pain, are becoming visible in the bright light of day. Healing has begun

The real, the true, the deep love of family and friends pours forth like water from the rock, and quenches that thirst in all of us that nothing else can ever quite reach. Look around you and consider anew the love of those within your circle. Life may present us with much suffering, but in suffering there can also be found great joy. Remember, The Champ is rooting for you.

Second Life photo by Mick Brady