Daily Archives: April 24, 2017

(continued from)

The Musician turns around in his tracks to encounter another straightaway. Another conundrum. “What is this fresh madness?” he finds himself muttering, but then regrets it. There is meaning here, he senses. He touches his chest and then his brow. “Both are needed,” he says, “just like in penning a good rock tune.” And he’s had several ideas along those lines since he began his investigation of LEA11. A cutup of a George Harrison song comes to mind.

He walks forward again. The image begins to “explode” when he gets about 20 feet from it. Clouds? A head in the clouds again.

His mind drifts back to a George Harrison album cover. No, not George but John: “Imagine” (another head in the clouds). The Musician must focus, however. He checks some of the names attached to the object. “Glass jar dreamer” comes up. “Dream pixelportrait” as well. This must be The Artist, thinks The Musician. Maybe it is just the different creative roles we play in life that separates us, he speculates. I am a Musician, you are an Artist. Inspired I could write a song (or create a song cutout) from this image. After penning it, the song would become part of the overall event. The art does not stop here at the creation, but extends into each person who views it, even far far into the future. Art — all creativity — has resonance far beyond what we give it credit for. The Musician realizes he’s reimagining the art just by experiencing it.

He moves even closer. Flesh tones.

He glances to the sides, noting that ubiquitous, flowing haired child on seahorses through curved openings in each direction. The pink seahorse to the north, the white one to the south. And not quite in line with each other. The Musician, or I should say, I, baker b. or Baker Bloch, the creator of The Musician, directly contacted The Artist today (i.e., Art Oluja) about a matter involving the pink seahorse and its rider. If I understood the reply correctly, the object has the ability to rotate in place, sensing when someone is nearby. The Musician decides to experiment with this new information.

He drops out of the space with the pixelated cloud being. Yes, the object points to where he jumped from now.

He stands on the opposite side — it points to him again.

Mystery solved. This is like Carrcassonnee’s (formerly!) all seeing eye that followed you everywhere. A seeing eye horse? He must get back on track. Where to forth next?

Turns out he’s staring right at it.

(continued in)

(continued from)

In the room directly above the one one with the colored map of the brain revisited the night before comes this tableau of objects very similar to another room described in the LEA11 07 post. We have the return of the Visionary child, here presented as a type of giant bean bag that you can lie upon, and named “Lucid” in this situation. Three ghost like doubles emit from her body, extending about a third of the way up to the high ceiling. Beside her is the beige teddy bear named George again, but, perhaps curiously, *not* a Curious George doll, which instead looks like this. Is it a replica of a teddy bear once owned or perhaps still owned by The Artist? The bed they lie on is suspended from the ceiling by silver cables.

On the walls are many framed pictures… 10 by my counting, of which two are also self contained animations. These also hark back to the images in the book previously found in Visionary’s Room — we’ll call the present one Lucid’s Room for contrast. They may even be exact doubles of images from that book. Giant sea fans also extend up the walls behind the pictures, five white and one purple to be exact. And it’s at the top right corner of the purple sea fan that The Musician saw an opening to the next room, accessible through a ladder once more (as he accessed this particular room through same from the sea floor).

No time to lose… up he goes!

—-

“Well, this is certainly peculiar,” he says to himself. He can’t quite figure out what is going on here with this animation. He checks the name: something about a “prim portrait”. Is this somehow a representation of The Artist? The square particles making up the object keep jumping on and off the wall, attempting to reassemble, it seems, into a coherent whole. But the idea is too fleeting to understand. An eye maybe?

The Musician looks down the long room. More particles, seeming to head out the far opening.

He has no choice but to follow. In turning around upon reaching them, he’s amazed that the image on the opposite wall has stabilized. An eye indeed, it looks like. Stylized but recognizable. And the particles that once swarmed around him at this end are gone (!).

He walks toward the “eye” again. About 3 meters away the composite squares begin to fly off the wall once more, attempting to reassemble as he first saw them. So what to make of *this*? It’s different from any other experience he’s had so far in LEA11. And the conjoined rooms are unique as well; all other rooms he’s visited in the sim have been singular, as he’s reviewing them in his mind. In ways, this seems the most important so far, a statement room of sorts maybe. Things only come into focus when you move a certain distance from them? If you are too close, all appears chaos or only half meaningful at best?

And then outside the window on the far end of the room The Musician encountered one of those curvilinear, vegetative-like roads again, curling around that layered, central structure of the sim already examined and ending at its north “corner”. This is the object that extends from the sea floor all the way up to just beneath or at the surface of the sim’s water, a height of about 35 meters. The one with the circular bottom and the square-ish top that seems to reference the ancient concept of a squared circle.

Looking down.

Yes, he’s getting to the center of things for sure. He accidentally falls off the end of this road…

… and lands in the middle of another, similar road. Looking ahead, he spies the opening to his Ear Canyon, visited so long ago it seems. He had planned to make it a camping base, but that hadn’t quite worked out so far. It’s this confounded central building, luring him out of its safety. Like a Max Ernst painting, there’s no real logic to it. The Musician realizes he must use emotions in combination with intellect to figure out what’s going on in this sim.

Which is impossible, as stated.

(continued in)