Category Archives: Corsica


He looks down at the Orion’s Vale sinkhole and dreams of a Corsica continent that could have been.

But perhaps the dream contains pathways of possibilities yet.

Back to future Yd Bay:

Yes it got worse for Grandpa Gold and Tessa Fish. Especially Tessa. North Yd: a post-apocalyptic town not to be played around with.

“No. Uh-uh.”

Grandpa Gold knew that if they didn’t get out of there by sunset there may be no escape from the darkness.

“Grandpa. Get *down* from there. No playing around!”

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Filed under *Second Life, Corsica, New Island

Sewed Up? 03

(continued from)

Wheeler was gone, and then Old Mabel saw the teleport invite. “Join me in Zao.” She complied, and found herself in the middle of an almost empty room. A stoic security guard stood next to the door.


“This is where reality ends and collage starts. Look into the corners, Old Mabel. Are you awake or dreaming? Is that munchkin librarian over there real or hallucination?”

Mabel scanned each corner but didn’t see a thing. She was beginning to think Wheeler might be quite insane…

… until she went through the door and turned around.






“I think you better start spelling it with that extra “n”, love. It took me weeks to pick up his trail.”



The end?

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Filed under *Second Life, ., Corsica

Askja again

Old Mabel couldn’t stay away from Corsica and its mysterious Askja. Shortly before dawn again, she arrived at the scene of the crime and, 1) purchased a drink from the now working Neurolab vending machine, 2) accidentally reset a chess game that had manifested on the table Snowmanster was last seen at, and, 3) bought an advertised collection of thimbles from the motel next door.


Next she found a parcel called “Giants at the Door Band”, not far from the center of the sim where a *giant* (i.e., Brenda) had arrived just days before and helped opened a door or window or something into the room where Snowmanster apparently burned to death. She enjoyed their green and yellow beanstalk ride while there, which shot her up about 120 meters to a cloud with no giant atall inside. Still quite fun, and, besides, she knew who the *real* giant was, even if said giant didn’t know who *she* was any longer. A very strange turn, but one of many currently going down in Collagesity now. Here’s the Giants at the Door band’s facebook page:



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Filed under *Second Life, ., Corsica

She has a name:

Old Mabel had trouble getting to sleep. She kept thinking of poor Snowmanster and Spongebob and Snowbob. She decided to teleport back to the room where it happened. She simply typed “Ask” to find the location. Interesting.


“That woman over there must have seen it all,” she says while within. “Ma’am, are you alive?” No answer.

“What’s she staring at?” Old Mabel moved her camera angle behind the slut’s head.


“The drink machine? Hmmm, no drinks within.”


Then it dawned on Old Mabel as the sun sphere touched the horizon. Opening!


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Filed under *Second Life, ., Corsica, Heterocera, Rubi






“The giant appeared here. Right in the center of the sim. Blame Lemons, eh.”

“Yes ma’am, I understand,” said Jerome T. Newton, downing a sugar cube. “Process and eliminate.”



“Process and eliminate,” he said again, back cooling.



Filed under *Second Life, ., Corsica

3 Friends

Home o’ Fibs returns (yet again) to Collagesity.

I now lease another small plot from the Markland rental group run by K9Mark, my landlord for about the past year and a half who I met for the first time yesterday. This is the 624 parcel formerly owned by creative friend Art Oluja (for probably the past half year), which now becomes the westernmost part of Collagesity. And will most likely remain that way, as I’m probably through with recent expansions of the town. Now all I have to do is sell Baker Blinker’s 3856 on the other side of Robin Lane and its limits might be set.

I’ll miss Art as a neighbor, who I also met for the first time yesterday during the successful 3-way transaction. Below are a couple photos of some trapped bird creature living in her house on the plot before the sale to K9Mark. Then the last photo depicts a resonant collage I chose to exhibit for mutual friend Pearl Grey’s Jan./Feb. showing at her Wanderlust Bench Art Park titled “Bullrocks”, the 8th in my 2014 Falmouth series. I’ll have to remember to ask Art about the story of her own creature-trapped-in-a-giant-mason-jar sometime. And she also told me in a recent im that she’s won another LEA grant for the coming year. Congrats Art! I can’t wait to see the cool stuff you come up with for certain.

And while I’m on the subject of creative Second Life friends, long time Collagesity supporter Veyot (also friends with Art and Pearl) has started a very interesting fictional series set in a floating motel over at the Corsica continent. Check out the introductory post on her tumblr site “Veyot’s View” here.

Bird creature.

Inside the jar.

More Art Oluja creations on her former Minoa 624.

“Bullrocks” at Pearl Grey’s Wanderlust Bench Art Park.

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Filed under *Second Life, ., Corsica, Heterocera, Rubi, Sansara

Around Lower Austra 02

John Lockfry 02 reported back to me yesterday that the small Baddest cemetery with so many interesting angles of investigation has simply disappeared into thin air in the meantime. I suspected this would happen, however, since the graveyard existed on abandoned land at the time. It may take up to a week or two for objects to be returned to you after abandoning land, but it will happen. Things have changed from olden days. Still I was able to snap some pictures before the deletion. The cemetery, in death, still remains fresh and pertinent for continued BoBylon research. We will most likely come back to it for more *meaning*.


Lockfry 02 then flies over to nearby Mystenopolis, where he meets up with Spongeberg Resident. Spongeberg notes that Lockfry has arrived Christ-like, with arms extended.


They sit in Spongeberg’s Magic Square of 12×12 and discuss recent Bobylon developments. Spongeberg reinforces to John that he can come here for refuge any time he likes, thinking back specifically to the faune as he glances over his shoulder. “An-y time,” he repeats again.


Meanwhile Baker Bloch is being attacked by a sentient pumpkin over in Asha on the Corsica continent, another old hangout.


Dodging the nuisance, Baker then walks into one of the village’s small shops to discover this David Bowie painting.


Those eyes seem to follow me everywhere.


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Filed under *Second Life, Corsica, Nautilus/Philo