Retro SL: Starter Home

While I was at the sandbox for yesterday's post, I figured I could knock out another house, the September 2003 House in a Box: Starter Home, as 72 prims (finished) its a plain yet attractive structure with lots of possibilities for modding ... if I could get the doors to work. More on that in a moment.

Laying the floor piece with the main positioning pin. I set it at (X=128, Y=128, Z=36.5) in Sandbox Verenda to get started.

I snapped the walls to the same coordinates but found that the Z (altitude) needed to be different.

The Interior Walls and Cabinets had the exact same coordinates as the Outer Walls. A nice surprise. At this point it would have been easier to add the doors, but the directions said to add the Roof.

Better and better, the Roof shares coordinates with the previous two steps.

No position pins for the doors so I noted the X coordinate for the wall then used it for the door, eyeballing the Y and Z. The Front Door shown here is 11 prims. Each Interior door is 5 prims and the French Doors are 10 prims total.

The instructions simply stated "2. Select and reposition each of these in the locations they belong; Front Door at the front of the house with the vertical door handle facing outward, Interior Door inside the house (copy for more doors if you like), and the French Doors at the rear of the house." I put in three, with one that was a hair too small, but that was easily adjusted. 

Ah, the French Doors. Like the other doors, all the fiddling I tried couldn't get any of them to open. The scripts looked okay and I set them to Running, reset them, and more ... nothing. I wonder if there is a function in them that has been depreciated since the script was originally written. If I get the urge and am bored one day, I'll try them again.

Generally speaking this was a very, very simple house to assemble and the prim count was pretty reasonable, too. A dozen extra textures are included so the adventurous or experienced builder has a number of choices. With a little skill some prims could be trimmed to lessen the land impact, but if you have a 1024m² parcel you'd easily have about 160 prims with which to furnish your new home. The instructions you can get by with 576m², but that wouldn't leave room for furniture and you'd have no lawn.

Retro SL: The Wright House

Another Retro SL classic structure is the September 2003 House In A Box: Wright House — 282 prims (finished) inspired by Real Life architect Frank Lloyd Wright's famous house, Falling Water. It is a complicated build from the modern view because it is not in a build rezzer nor is it assembled as an unlinked coalesced object (i.e., you drag it out from your inventory while in Build mode so all the unlinked parts hold together). It is boxed with detailed construction instructions for aligning six "position pins" that are eventually unlinked and deleted. For some reason the instructions don't mention the idea of snapping the first part to a specific point on the grid then entering the same position coordinates for the subsequent pieces. Not that works any better than working by eye, though, as the parts dont align properly when following the directions.

 However, several warnings come first in a note card appears as soon as you rez the box to unpack it:

There are a few things you'll need to know and understand before you begin.

1. This is a fairly large house, and it will cost you a pretty penny to build. Depending on some customization choices, the actual building can cost as much as L$3000, and your maintenance taxes will be considerable. This house is better suited to someone with an established income than a first-time Second Life homeowner. packed before the idea of grabbing a coalesced object existed?

"... cost you a pretty penny to build ..." Remember that at one time, it cost homeowner L$10 per prim just to rez the structure — plus L$10 to rez the packing box just to get the pieces out. Each positioning pin was L$10, too. Total cost from start to finish if you use one copy of the extra decorative lamp: L$2,900 plus land costs (the maintenance costs mentioned).

Eventually the directions tell you to link everything together, except the doors, and run through how to use the window and door controls, then admonishing that you take a backup copy:

As a safety precaution, copy the entire completed, linked house object into your Inventory: Right-click > Acquire > Take Copy. This way if something goes wrong with your customization, you can delete the old house, pull out a new one and start over. 

Which begs the question "Why wasn't it all linked in the first place?" The answer may lie in the ten alternate textures included in the box. Every Resident was a Builder back in the day and Bill Linden the maker of the Wright House, probably thought folks would customize his build. Second life was a frontier and we were all homesteaders taming the wilds. Most regions like my home sim Nangrim didn't even have roads.

At the end of the assembly process, after deleting the position prims, I had to align the windows properly then the doors, and I was still left with what really appears to be a half-finished building with a poorly anchored roof strip, just like a few years ago when I built the first one. I fixed a couple prim overlaps and thought about the changes I made the first time ... adding an elevator, making a proper roof, etc. ... just as Bill Linden probably wanted.

The Wright House was way too prim intensive when it was "new" to use on the wee bit of land that I had at the time, so like today I built it in a sandbox, had my way with it, then deleted it and moved on to other things. And other houses were far nicer and far more land-friendly though I lived in a small cave when I wasn't on the Isle of Lesbos. Even today I wonder why people have houses, but that is another post and I have more structures from the early days to build and blog about.

Happy Easter!

Cadeling Garden

Looking through some landmarks that seem to have fallen to the bottom of my handbag, I came across Cadeling Garden (SLurl), a delightful region that looks to exist more to be joyful than to support a wonderful little shop (avatar skins, clothes, and more) and a fabulous art gallery. As I explored, I realized that the region itself is the true art gallery. Ling Serenity (a Real Life artist) has some truly marvelous pieces set out, many made by her but quite a few from the collections of other Second Life creators.

In a style representative of many, many Japanese regions, much of the landscape is flooded ankle deep, with land portions rich with colorful flowers and plentiful other vegetation. Also, the structures are a time worn to the point of being disheveled, but the region's oft used design trope works very well at Cadeling Garden. Visitors who choose to poke around will find many places to sit and relax as well as joyful bits of Not-Possible-In-Real-Life whimsy. I especially enjoyed the poem in the water near the couple's swing, under the power lines.

Without further ado, the gratuitous landscape porn (taking license to use the Verdigris Windlight pre-set and the Glassy water pre-set — region default seems to be perpetual dusk):

The ladder leads to nowhere, but with such sumptuous scenery, there is no where else you need to be.

A view of the main shop. Some nice bargains on skins, textures, and more. There is a tiny carousel for those who explore.

On the art gallery side, there is a nice couples swing and a poem in the water for the vigilant among us.

At the main shop with a wonderful view of the eastern side of the region.

Now that it is just you and me left, everyone else having looked at this post and moved on out boredom since it isn't about fashion or sex, I'll let you in on a secret. Not all the waters are ankle deep nor are all the attractions within sight of sea level. Poke around and you'll be rewarded.

[pteron]

[pteron] as viewed from the sea. Click any picture in this post to embiggenize it.

While in an Honour McMilan mood ("Look! An Art Sim!!"), this intrepid traveller put on her wire mesh avatar like Honour often wears then teleported into [pteron], an artsy feast of monochromatic moodiness studded with startling oases of stunning (SLurl). I've visited more than several times before today, bringing my wife along for one sojourn, and I still don't get a sense of purpose behind the design, but getting lost might be the idea. Everything is spectacular and there is so much to see. The ground level is the obvious place to start, so I won't. Head along an invisible bridge after you land and through what turns out to be a door to find a teleport hub.  Starting at the 9:00 position of the teleporter and working clockwise, here's what you'll see: Nostos, Coma, Kykols, and Speciation.

Nostos as viewed from the ship you arrive at after teleport.

Cammed way back and above the plane of the barrier creating the sky, this photo still doesn't do justice to what  you can see in-world. The endless seascape against the night sky takes your breath away. Note the cylinder ... your "landing craft."

Nostos is first and shares the color palette of the "ground" part of [pteron] — variations of sea green but with finer sublety. You land in what appears to be a derelict vessel but after some initial excitement at the moving lights you look outside to and endless seascape dotted with whorls of water showing the physical effects of fantastic energy fields. I don't know if one is supposed to leave the ship or not, but a cloud layer obscures the full central structure. Only by camming for a birds-eye view can one appreciate the magnificent expanse. My photo isn't nearly as good as seeing it in person.

Coma starts out relatively cheerful, but then becomes bleak ... dark, dark bleak.

Coma is a small, exceptionally organic and liquid (make sure your ambient volume is turned up) area that mixes bright ocher in with the sea green on the ground until you decide to push the boundaries. Provided you don't take a wrong turn and fall several hundred meters, you'll find a dark tunnel that leads to a dark structure held in an inky void with shifting shades of blackness. The meager torches provide little assistance so navigating the precarious stones and walkways is iffy at best. Ultimately, one can't enter the structure anyway, but the experience is breathtaking. Abandon all hope as like several areas, there is no return teleporter. 

An establishing shot of Kyklos, featuring one of the organic "spines" that floats outside the main structure

Particles really make the scene and add life, thought the structure itself is magnificent. This is a perfect build.

The stylized organic structures and particle effects that compose Kyklos make me first see a massive space station but then some pseudo "skeletal spines" and the swirly ramp enclosures evoke thoughts of an undersea structure. Whatever the intent, the build is flawlessly executed. Each aspect compliments the others and the whole to create an amazing experience in cyan. Alone, Kyklos is worth the time. With the whole of [pteron], it is amazing. I'm left without words to express the impact.

Life abounds in Speciation. I'm not sure what sort of life, but out of the corner of your eye something always seems to be moving. My metal avie was in danger of rusting to be certain.

Nothing was really moving, but that's certainly the impression with all the light and organic elements.

Speciation is a smack in the face. Abandoning the blue-green-cyan palette, this area uses ochre (like in Coma) but my first impression was "archeological find." The color and some odd light glyphs upon arrival made me think I was in the antechamber of some mystical ruins. Leaving via the small, orange teleport ball does little to disabuse this impression. I arrived on a stone platform that leads to a hollow of more stone and more mystical light. Darts of rain splash in shallow pools where what could be tentacles lie about. Turn up the ambient volume and you hear the rain, the flow of water, thunder, and ... something. The surface of the ocean — if that is what it is — is surreal in it's shades of maroon, charcoal, and ocher as it flows east to west. Dandelion-like sprays abound to contrast the chains ornate light structures in this scene that exudes dampness. The words ancient, decay, and ruins repeat in every corner. I buy a [pteron] plant that might be intentional set to sell for free, but I know that without being in Speciation, it won't be as spectacular. My metal wire avatar is not at home here, but part of my soul belongs.

There are times when ground level seems so normal compared to your typical real life experiences and then there are times it takes a hard left turn into .... somewhere.

[peteron] at ground level is mightily impressive in its own right, but seems a bit anti-climatic once seeing the other parts of the region. However, as you explore you'll find there are mysteries ... strange rooms with strange thrones ... odd bits of furniture in odd places ... hidden places with teleports to more hidden places ... sealed rooms with things in sealed transparent boxes. Between the monochromatic architecture and the frequent need to teleport back to the main landing area, exploring becomes exhausting but addictive. There is a pattern here, if only suggested by all the unmarked teleports that take you to Speciation or the clickable objects that speak in riddles (atom ring ... you flow in me ...). If you never explore the separate areas, ground level will keep you busy for a while. If you learn the secret, though, please let me know.