One Night in Second Life

I now get it. Absolutely.

Having come home on Saturday evening, completely drenched after a very British barbeque, I remembered the Guardian’s Guide mag had featured SecondFest – a virtual festival being held in Second Life. The dj roster looked pretty decent, including as it did Gilles Peterson, Ross Allen and Sunday Best amongst others (edit: as did the bands, I now notice having just looked at the miniguide for the first time…), so I thought I’d pop my head round the door and have a look/listen. I had a profile set up from some time ago, but I’d never really messed around in SL other than getting to grips with the basic flying around and bumping into stuff.

But now I see what the fuss is about. Having arrived at the entrance and gone through the gates, a staircase took you down into the festival site itself. Navigating around between the main stage (which was empty at that time of night), the indie tent, dance tent and outdoor cinema was pretty easy thanks to the print map included in the Guide.

There should probably be a picture here, but I was having too much fun to work out how to ‘take’ them … so here’s what flickr has to offer

Actually, I’m not going to go into too much detail about it all because I have a sneaky feeling that hearing about someone else’s SL experiences is akin to hearing about their dreams (quite dull), but suffice to say that ‘dancing’ feels strangely like dancing and ‘chatting’ to other people while you ‘dance’ is easy, as you can hear typing above the music. And kudos to the ‘girl’ (I’ve forgotten your name) who ‘mimed playing piano’ over that jazzy number and your friend (yep, forgotten your name too) who ‘mimed being dj’. And whoever those SL ‘royalty’ were who turned up: hello to you too.

I think I left the tent at about 4 in the morning and ‘went for a kip’ under a tree.

It might have been because it was a Guardian-sponsored event that the people were lovely (yes, yes, I know), but they mainly were, ranging as they did from first-timers to SL veterans. Altogether it was a shockingly fun evening that was weird only in how natural it felt. Still, while I don’t think I’ll be buying the condo on my own personal island just yet, or kitting myself out in Diesel from head to toe (I’m keeping my SecondFest tshirt and rollerskates though), I’ll definitely be going back for more SL events as and when they happen.

Tags digital · second lifeNo Comments

My Tumblr

Briliant!

Dave Brubeck with young Russian violinist

“During a visit to Moscow in the 80’s, Dave Brubeck met the faculty and students in Moscow Conservatory. While he was improvising on a “Ei, uhnem”, a Russian folk song, a young man downstage stood up to play Stéphane Grappelli-style violin jazz with him.”

(by afahsu)

via @openculture

(via Ai Weiwei Piles 1,200 Bikes On Top Of Each Other, For Dazzling Effect | Co.Design)

Infographic: The Changing TV Landscape

(via Iconic Photographs With Their Subjects Removed)

“I have only my talent for drawing, so I drew.”

austinkleon:

Ronald Searle, Les Très Riches Heures de Mrs Mole

47 jewel-like drawings by Ronald Searle made for his wife, Monica, each time she underwent chemotherapy. On New Year’s Eve 1969, Monica Searle was diagnosed with a rare and virulent form of breast cancer. Each time she underwent treatment, Ronald produced a Mrs Mole drawing ‘to cheer every dreaded chemotherapy session and evoke the blissful future ahead’. Filled with light and illuminated in glowing colours, the drawings speak of love, optimism and hope. Like the mediaeval illuminated manuscripts such as the 15th-century Les Tres Riches Heures du Duc de Berry, to which the title of this book refers, the 47 drawings are on an intimate scale and were never intended for publication.

When asked about the drawings, Searle said, “I have only my talent for drawing, so I drew.” Here’s a little more about them:

Prior to the cancer shock the couple had bought a decrepit house in the south of France and, despite her illness, Monica continued to devote her time making this house a home.

Devastated with his wife’s diagnosis Ronald did the only thing he knew how to do to cheer her up. .. draw.

Before every chemotherapy session he gave his wife a painting. Monica was depicted as a mole, a very happy mole celebrating life in their new home. (The Mole idea came after their discovery of a large celler that they made into a cosy room)

‘Everything about them had to be romantic and perfect,’ says Ronald. ‘I drew them originally for no one’s eyes except Mo’s, so she would look at them propped up against her bedside lamp and think: “When I’m better, everything will be beautiful.”

Searle died last week at 91.

(Images via bluedoorbooks)