Rekindling Innocent Play

by Vonnie Boucher

Second Life is an idea platform for playing. Most of us, when children in Real Life, instinctively knew how to play. But as we entered our adolescent years, we were taught that there are more important issues that require our attention, and the value of innocent play began shrinking away in significance. Of course adults in Real Life can and do play, but it is legitimized by making it highly structured. "Grown-up play" such as video games to professional sports, sort of tease around at the inborn desire to, but the need for rules and structures do not allow the same emotional, intellectual, and physical benefits that unstructured, childlike play offers. Second Life offers the opportunity to recapture and become immersed in innocent, non-directed, simple, childlike play. Think of it as re-learning how to play.

I discovered a tucked-away sort of place on Otium Beach that punched my innocent-play button. It was one one of the several tiny, isolated sandbar islands that has an animated campfire and a tent, complete with a sleeping bag for one or two occupants. Superficially, there isn't much to become excited about. Fiddling with the sleeping bag, you find it has only one pose. There are no choices of sits and sleeps, no snuggle animationss, and certainly (in keeping with the rules for Otium) nothing remotely sexual. A mind trained in "adult" thinking and a spirit that is overwhelmingly burdened with the cares of both worlds, sees little or nothing interesting here.  Certainly there is nothing that would offer a pleasant, memorable experience. But that's the "adult" perspective.

The child in me saw an opportunity to play and explore some possibilities. First, and most dramatic, I adjusted the Sun to Midnight. Turning off the bright sunlight that normally characterizes a great day at the seashore; I found stars in a black sky, phosphorescent waves lapping near my feet, and the warm glow of the campfire creating a small world of peace and wonder. Finally, I turned off the local music, leaving only the sounds of the sea and the birds.

Having done that, I became lost in the surroundings and the engaging little pose the sleeping bag had to offer. I felt so much like a little girl again--a time when simple pleasures were all-consuming and meant so very much.

After some time, I realized there was one thing yet to be done.. It isn't that something was missing, it was more a matter of realizing there was something to add--a way to raise the experience to a whole new level:  Share it with a great friend!

So here we are. Yes we are adults, but feeling more like two kids sharing a magical moment neither of us is likely to forget. Just simple play and companionship, unfettered by grown-up rules, assumptions, opinions, and drama. This is next to impossible in Real Life, but so readily available in Second Life for those of us who take the trouble to poke around in the forgotten corners of our spirits and rediscover the child we once were.

By Vonnie Boucher

Hello, Otium residents, merchants, visitors, staff, and blog-reading fans. My name is Vonnie Boucher and I've just been assigned as a contributor for this blog. I am very excited about this opportunity information, observations, images, and commentary about things relevant to the spirit of Otium “leisure and laziness.” Here is my profile picture.

 I am a noobie to this blog, a regular Otium visitor for a couple of months, and a 7-year “senior citizen” of Second Life. I like meeting people, carrying on conversations, helping noobies, and (maybe most of all) watching people. My goal is to wrap all those things into pictorial blogs for you.

Watching People

I have discovered that Otium beach is a marvelous place for watching people. I will be sharing much more on this topic in subsequent entries, but I really wanted to share this photo taken earlier today. She was a very shy girl, and told me she hadn't yet thought of a name for her fawn. The image says a lot about her and the feelings of the moment.

 This was a candid shot I took just before she suddenly poofed away. I was able to IM her for permission to use the photo here. She agreed, and was delighted with the copy I sent her.

Treasures, in the form of people, abound on this beach. I don’t think I will ever run out of things to share on this particular topic.

The New Otium

by Dave (Photos by Stormy Seas)

I was so sure that Otium was gone forever - so imagine my surprise when I clicked on an old link to the hilltop bar and found myself in the middle of a village.  The village was built of rock and cobblestones, and looked centuries old.

Otium Village

I went into the courtyard and saw one of the regulars from the old Otium there, casually reading a newspaper.

The courtyard

The place seemed in character with the old Otium, though a bit more sophisticated.  I found a few small shops in the village selling merchandise, but no garish advertisements.  A number of apartments were available for rent, some already rented.

Following the cobblestone pathways of the village

I went across an old bridge and found a beach reminiscent of the old beach at Otium.

The new beach

Then I wondered what had happened to the beach huts where my neighbor and I used to live.  I flew around the sim and finally found them - well, three of them at least.  Two were on a small island of their own.  The other one had a small isle to itself.  Not bad.

Beach huts on an isle

When I returned to the courtyard I was surprised to find more people there.   I noted for the first time that voice chat was activated in the new Otium - definitely a positive development.  We’ll see if it survives.  Another development I noticed: Otium is no longer on the ‘newcomer-friendly’ destinations listing.  How that affects the sim remains to be seen.

The courtyard - a popular place

I had scarcely noticed the low stage with microphone in the corner of the courtyard - until a guitarist ascended the stage and began playing acoustic guitar.  The music was complex and melodic, reminiscent of Spanish classical.  I made a note to follow the performer’s subsequent appearances.

Cordova (Dirty Tomorrow) playing acoustic

A crowd was gathered around, listening.  I could see that the courtyard was going to be a major gathering place in the new Otium.

Cordova’s performance

While many of us will miss the old version, I suppose we’ll get over it.  The beach on the main island is still there.  There are still outlying isles that offer a bit of seclusion.  And the courtyard looks like it will be a lot more popular than the old hilltop bar.

One more thing:  If you should hear rumors that the new Otium is owned by the Mafia, just ignore them.  They’re simply not true.

Stormy - looking out to sea

Breaking news!

Last-minute development:  The report (see below) on the demise of Otium is no longer true.  As of last report, the sim is being rebuilt into a beautiful Italian-style village, with much of the popular beach area and outlying isles still in existence.

The new, revitalized Otium is still under development.  An account of the new Otium will be offered once this phase is more or less completed.  Thanks for your patience! ☺

Dave

Ciao Otium

by Dave (photos by Stormy Seas)

Like many noobs, I visited Otium on my first day in-world - its beaches and sea birds and rustic structures were among my very first impressions of SL.  Unlike most, I stayed.  Otium became the beginning and end of all my explorations in a strange new land called Second Life.  Ultimately I found a home there, a small beach hut where I went to meditate on the challenges I faced as a newbie.

Many of my experiences are recorded in this blog - some are not.  Spanish is my second language, though it has been years since I lived among people who speak it.  While at Otium, I was invited to a Spanish-speaking birthday party in the hilltop bar, where I experienced - for the first time in years - the warm, friendly feeling the language brings to such gatherings.  It’s an experience I will never forget.  Another memorable experience was when I went on a zany sailing spree all over the islands with three friends and two Otium sailboats.

It was my intention to include these and other events among the tales recorded below. Unfortunately, my time has run out.  On June 22nd,  Otium will be no more.

For me it’s just another of many in-world ‘firsts’, this one being the loss of the place that became my refuge in the virtual world when I was having trouble adapting.  What surprised me was the expression of sadness among older SL residents - who have seen a lot of sims come and go - about the end of Otium. Some were actually in tears over it.

There was a special quality to this little string of islands, a spacious peacefulness that even the occasional griefer could not assail.  It was as if our troubles could not be heard over the roar of the surf and the calls of the seagulls.  Those of us who were regulars usually had a favorite spot - a beach chair, a secluded islet, a stretch of sand, or even a rocking chair on the patio - where we liked to go in order to experience the peaceful ambiance of Otium.

Now we must all move on to other sims, places with their own new and interesting attractions. -But I think many of us still feel that that noplace else will ever be like Otium.

Stormy - taking one last look.

Dave's New Home

by Dave

Photos by Stormy Seas (except as noted)

By this time I’d been hanging out at Otium for three months or so.  Sailing around the islands, I saw the new beach huts that went up on the other side of the hill.  Later I found rocks blocking the way past them - I figured they wanted to offer a little more privacy to the residents, though even this measure didn't seem to make them as private as the homes of my friends who lived on other sims.

But the rustic, weathered style of the cottages and the private beach were compelling factors, and it seemed like a good time to think of getting a place of my own.  What better place than the beach huts at Otium, my favorite spot in SL?

The dwellings had all stood empty during my earlier visits, but when I started looking them over, all but one were taken!  This accelerated my investigation.  I soon learned that the last available beach hut was on the end, which meant I could sail right up to my own beach.

“. . . I can sail right off here - cool!”

I found the next-door neighbor at home.  Her profile said she was a social person, so I decided to go pay her a visit.  The visit cemented my resolve to live in the beach huts - Chalista turned out to be about the nicest person I’d met in SL, and a very charming young lady as well.

Photo by Chalista

Soo . . . next thing you know I was paying up and moving in.  Franz, the landlord, was really a cool dude, he zipped out there in no time and set it up for me - perched up on the roof, made a few magical gestures, and installed the security system around the place.  His partner Danae, who came out and helped him, told me to let her know if I needed anything.   In just a few minutes they had it all ready for me.

“ . . . wonder how he does that?”

After they left I went inside my new beach hut, sat in one of those rustic chairs, and just looked around.  For the first time since I signed up at SL, I really felt like a Resident!

Now, I’m a pretty easygoing guy, and do my best to avoid any sort of trouble.  The problem is, trouble generally seems to find me.  The landlord left the security module stashed up in the ceiling of the hut.  I had watched him set up the perimeter, and wondered if it covered my beach.  Just to check, I opened the controls . . .

The menu said not to worry about setting the perimeter too wide, as security borders could not be set beyond the parcel.  At this point I probably should have checked on the meaning of the word ‘parcel’.  I did not.  I just clicked the button, thinking how nice it would be to have a private place to work on my avatar and learn more about building.

Onscreen I saw a couple of AV’s being ejected from the ‘parcel’.  This worried me a little, but nothing like what followed.  A steady stream of names started going by on my screen, faster than I could read them - as if dozens of people were being ejected.  At this point I knew I was in trouble, I just didn't know how much - not until Franz, my friendly, helpful landlord, showed up at the door of my hut and announced:

“You banned all the people from the sim.”

Well, he somehow managed to fix the problem - even told me not to worry about it.  Still, I figured there might be a few individuals out there who, relaxing on the beach or at the club or maybe talking to friends, would take exception to being dumped en masse at some teleportation hub.  I opened the group communication site and drafted an apology, for what it was worth.  I even asked everyone to excuse the inconvenience . . . yeah, right!

I went back into the hut and sat down, mulling over my misdeeds.  Franz came by and told me he had the problem fixed.  He said these things just happen, and everything was okay now.

He also took the security orb and hid it.

Later on I found it.  He doesn't know that yet. ☺

Love, Second-Life Style

by Dave

“Love is like the measles - we all have to go through it.”

Thanks to a friend’s proficiency with avatars (see ‘Dave Gets a Life’), I now looked more like a seasoned SL resident, instead of a newbie stumbling around in one of the standard AV‘s.  My profile said I was in my third month on SL.

It all started out so innocently.  I logged out from the beach at Otium one evening, not noticing that I had received an IM just as I was signing out.  When I logged in the next day, a message popped up:

“welcome to SL. (i snuck up behind you at Otium :)”

The name was intriguing.  The profile displayed a female avatar with a background of long-term involvement in SL activities.  I responded:

“Hi . . . must have been just as i left . . . “

The respondent wasn't online, so I wrote it off as a missed connection.  -But a couple of hours later, I received a response:

“happy to help - want to add me for a bit? - if we don’t click as buddies, no hard feelings :)”

This was followed by a friendship offer.  I accepted.  A reply came quickly:

“yay! we will workshop your noobiness soon! . . . gtg - bye”

This little story is about a newbie’s experience with SL romance, not the sexual activity for which the site is so famous (and which, in comparison, is pretty benign).  At this point I had decided not to get involved in SL romance.  I could see and hear it going on all around me.  It seemed like a sort of make-believe RP game among people who didn't really know each other.  But conversation was often enjoyable, and I saw this new contact as an opportunity to make a friend and learn more about SL.

We started chatting when we were both online.  The conversation was sparkly and pleasant.  She sent me links to websites that offered low-cost clothing and other items.  Eventually we met at a popular blues club.  It turned out she had just been dumped in an SL romance, and wanted to talk about it.  I encouraged her to speak, listening attentively.  In the course of the conversation, we became friends.

We began exploring sims together and working on my building skills.  She showed me how the poseballs work, including the ones for couples.  The automated simulations were designed to emulate human behavior, connect to memories of real-life events, stir the imagination.  I got caught up in the mood of it and immersed myself in the role.

By the time I saw the words,

“im falling for you Dave”,

in the midst of a couples embrace, it was already too late.  There was no turning back.  For better or for worse, I was about to learn all about SL romance.

Expressing feelings in SL is sometimes called ‘emoting’ - I think it’s a term borrowed from RP.  I’m a writer, so when she told me I was emoting, I figured it was something I’d been doing for years - that’s what writing is all about.  But there’s something special about it in the Second-Life environment.  The avatars, accompanied by dialogue, convey a lot more than just the written word.  There is an interactive presence that takes communication (especially communication of feelings) to an entirely different level.

Another unique aspect of SL romance is the speed at which it moves - it seems to do so of its own accord, despite all attempts by participants to slow things down.  If you’re not careful, you can go from a headlong rush into intimacy to a scary session of brutal honesty in a matter of days - as I did.  This can happen even if you are careful.

How does it happen?  Well, the starting point of any SL interaction is conversation, and it seems deceptively easy for a casual conversation to become intimate, even when there are really few shared interests.  How this is managed depends on individual preferences.  As in most Second-Life activities, there is a wide range of viewpoints regarding SL romance.  Some decide at the outset to have nothing to do with it.  Others thrive on the pleasure and pain of the roller-coaster ride.  Most of us are somewhere in between.

A good friend (who happens to be a long-term SL resident) recommends being honest about your feelings while keeping a safe distance.   I think this is excellent advice, especially for the uninitiated.

This new level of initiation to SL was, for me, an important turning point, a change of direction.  I began creating my own avatar instead of letting others do it for me.  I still ask for advice from others, but I spend more time learning things on my own - which, in the end, is the only way it can be done.  And I follow a piece of advice given to me so long ago that I had forgotten it:  the one about taking candy from strangers. :)

Dave Gets a Life

by Dave

After hanging out at Otium for a couple of months and visiting lots of sims, I began to get attention from others on a more frequent basis.  The attention was very tolerant at first - like when I  crashed inadvertently into a center-stage performer at Guthrie’s and he asked everyone present to forgive me as I was “just a noob”.  But I was still smarting from a public message at my favorite dance club questioning the cleanliness and odor of my clothes - which, of course, I hadn't changed in two months.  I guess it was finally decided that someone should fill me in on how things were done in SL.

                                                               Before

It wasn't really surprising that most of these self-appointed advisors were women.  The consensus among them was that I had walked, ran, and flown my unsightly, jerky stick figure around the sims long enough, and it was time for a change.  This was generally accomplished by a brief introduction, a short tour of favorite sims, then being drug off to shop for shapes, skins, hair, (I’d already nixed vampirism, so teeth weren't an issue), and, of course, clothing.

My first (and most useful) advisor told me I needed to get an AO - in a tone of voice resembling “get a life”.  I was directed to a place where I could get a simple one practically free, so I could see the difference.  Soo . . . I wound up shopping around and spending Lindens (too many, I’m told) on a decent AO.

Next day the same advisor came around to visit.  Seeing that I was making steps in the right direction, she took me in tow to a number of other shopping venues.  I picked up a bunch of stuff on her recommendation, then she had to go.  Later that day, another woman came along and helped me with unpacking.  I was a little concerned when I was whisked off to some sort of nude beach for swingers, then taken to a secluded area there.  She assured me that it was just a place where we could do rezzing without being disturbed.

Well, we sure went through the paces that night.  I learned so much that my head began to hurt and I got really sleepy and complained that it was my bedtime.  She refused to let me go until the job was done, after which she had urgent appointments of her own.

The next day I was again visited by my original mentor, who was glad to see I had unpacked everything (I didn't bother to mention how).  This time I was in for another, longer session.  By the time she was done she had tweaked my shape from head to toe, discarded a score of skins until she found one to her liking, and dressed me in jeans and a plaid lumberjack shirt - which she paid for herself.  I had to admit that I looked considerably more presentable.  The dark-haired lumberjack dude with the well-trimmed beard that I had become was both good-looking and likable.  I sorta liked him myself, though he wasn't really ‘me’ - oh well, I thought, it was a start.

                                                         After

At this point I was feeling uncomfortably indebted to the woman who had taken me through most of this transformation.  I had learned how to shop by now, so I did a careful search on SL Marketplace, found some jewelry I hoped she would like, and sent it to her as a gift.  Man, was I pleased when she told me she loved it!  The downside was that she was in the midst of packing for a long trip and wouldn't be back online for quite some time.  Nonetheless, I felt like I had graduated to a whole new state of SL existence - though I knew I still had a long way to go.

This little story is dedicated to all the kind and thoughtful SL members who regularly help noobs like me through those first difficult months.  Thanks! :)

Dave's Piano Lessons

By Dave (photos by Ellie Rogue)

Feeling weary after another day’s explorations on SL, I teleported  back to Otium and visited the hilltop bar.  One of the most relaxing things for me is to play the piano out on the patio.  I've always struggled with the piano in real life, but there I could watch myself play effortlessly.

I had only been playing a few minutes when someone stopped beside the piano to watch me.  I cammed around and saw an attractive young blonde woman, barefoot in a captivating off-the-shoulder dress.  Checking her profile, I saw that she had a few years on SL, compared to my 45 days at the time - way out of my league.  I just kept on playing.

Imagine my surprise when she hopped up on the piano and sat there as I was playing, exposing a well-turned pair of legs, one bare foot dangling just above the keyboard.

Pretty soon I received an IM from her:

“hi. :)”

“you’re very good on the piano!”

At this point SL was getting more interesting by the minute!  It felt great to receive a compliment from a pretty woman, who cares if we both knew it was unwarranted.  I responded:

“Oh, it’s quite easy, really :)”

“Want to play . . .?”

There was a brief pause, then I got a reply:

“okeh”

I arose quickly from the piano stool to let her take over.  To my surprise, she immediately disappeared!  In the midst of my disappointment another message popped up in her IM box - this one was a teleport offer.  I clicked on it without thinking.

Next thing I knew I was rezzing inside a home.  The room resolved itself into a bedroom.  The blonde woman was perched on the bed, her clothes rapidly disappearing.  Another IM message arrived from her:

“get on.”

Whoa, I thought, I’m in way over my head here!  Not wanting to make a fool of myself, I replied:

“Hey, I’m just a newbie . . . I don’t know anything about this part of SL.”

The response was swift:

“that’s okey . . . I’ll show you how it works.  don’t worry, i’m really a man :).”

Well, I must have stabbed at that Otium “teleport” button on my Favorites menu 2 or 3 times before I finally hit it to get out of there.

Safely back on the hilltop patio, I settled into a rocking chair and looked out over the islands, thinking about what had just happened to me.  By this time I could see the humor in my recent encounter - but I decided that the next time I asked someone if they wanted to play, I would not forget to add ‘the piano’ - and I vowed to remember that things aren’t always what they seem.

Hanging out at Otium - Serena Long Cay

Hanging out at Otium - Serena Long Cay

by Dave

Like most newcomers, my first few days on SL were a mixture of bewilderment, wonder, and fascination.  Somehow I wound up at Otium - perhaps because it was listed among the “newcomer friendly” sims. The picture on the teleport icon looked nice.

The island beaches, the sounds of surf, and the chatter of seagulls were a welcome experience to someone who didn't really know which way was up.  So I hung out for awhile - learning how to navigate, playing on the swings, and  watching the pretty women pass.  I even managed to get up to the hilltop bar – on the third try.  First time I sailed off a cliff and landed in the bushes.  Second time I somehow got stuck under the stairs and couldn't get out - until someone came along and suggested I teleport back to the original landing pad and start all over.  Brilliant idea, that.  Better than my next idea, which was flying up.  I finally managed to land in a heap on the roof of the bar.   I picked myself up, gratefully noting that my avatar was not so easily damaged.  Feeling braver at this point, I simply walked off the roof and tumbled onto the front porch.  Not my most graceful entrance, but I figured it was a start.

I began exploring the nearly endless variety of the other sims, scrounging for information and advice along the way and trying to learn how to keep from running into objects - and other avatars, most of whom didn't seem to want to talk to me.

Strolling across the sands of Otium one day I ran into something new:  A large, colorful button on the ground that said “Free Chute”.  Figuring I had nothing to lose, I clicked on it.  Next thing I knew I was high above the sim, perched precariously on a small grey rock.  I turned around and saw a black runway with green arrows pointing off the rock. Thankfully, I also saw a glowing white triangle announcing, “Left click me for a free parachute!”.  Now, my RL self had always wanted to try skydiving, or at least hang-gliding.  Unfortunately, I also have an abject fear of heights.  I figured this was my big chance, so I suited up and followed the green arrows.  Suddenly I was spreadeagled in free fall, the z-axis meter on my location ticking away madly . . .

Finally a blue sky came into view.  I wheeled around in free fall and saw the islands coming up at me, somewhat faster than I would have liked.  Just then my chute popped open.  I steered back in toward the “Free Chute” button on the ground and managed to land pretty close to the spot where I’d left.  My first skydiving experience!  Of course, I had to do it again . . .

Photos by Ellie Rogue