This parcel feels like a very personal space but the presence of a tip jar (sheep) suggests that the owner hopes for visitors. The land description touts it as "A little bit of paradise to enjoy in every life. From a crushed rose to a sweet fragrance, take time to smell the roses...."
There's a strong sense of place here. How is it achieved?
Up up up
Through previous topophilia posts, I've been becoming more conscious of references to upward space. Within the limitations of a 512, it's not surprising that stacking occurs. Additionally, the "tower" seems to be an archetype in the human imagination - one could even say it's an "architype" (an architectural archetype).
For Gaston Bachelard, vertical space separates rationality from irrationality: "Verticality is ensured by the polarity of cellar and attic, the marks of which are so deep that, in a way, they open up two very different perspectives for a phenomenology of the imagination. Indeed, it is possible, almost without commentary, to oppose the rationality of the roof to the irrationality of the cellar" (The Poetics of Space). These upwards spaces immediately invoke clarity, vision, and perspective. The sense of remoteness enhances objectivity. Visions happen on mountain tops, and great works issue from the apex of "ivory towers".
In a virtual environment, it is not at all surprising that we see endless expressions of ascent.
Not only is this parcel placed on a remote pinnacle of rock but it also has three distinct levels, each furnished with space for the avatar to be still. The western face of the pinnacle is covered with a waterfall. A smaller waterfall is above this, and there is a sitting area down in the hollow next to the plunge pool. Above this a plateau holds a social area with chair and table for four friends alongside a path that zig zags up to a third level with a canopy and cushions where a variety of tasty treats are on offer. There is a stone sculpture of a sleeping woman, on the middle level.
Using more than one level is not only economical with space but also makes spaces that seem to suit different frames of mind or activities. Unlike rooms, the open divisions of space by plateaus or terraces mean that other parts of a place can be seen from wherever you are, and I think that this gives a more satisfying sense of unity to a parcel.
Open/Closed
Another theme that repeatedly emerges in my exploration of virtual topophilia is the balance of open and closed space. What seems satisfying is a bit of both: privacy and outlook, isolation and context, protection and exposure. The tower of rock is a brilliant hack that delivers both in equal measure. While it is open to the sky and offers broad vistas of the surroundings, this parcel is a miniature kingdom, enclosed upon itself by being on top of a sheer, unclimbable wall.
A sky platform or box lacks the context of nevertheless being attached to the land, and it is amazing what a difference this makes.
I'm in a Picture
Unlike the parcel in my previous post, there's no topographical consistency with the surroundings. It's extremely unlikely we'd find this sort of place in the real world.
Furthermore, the underlying structure of the habitable part of the parcel is provided by a prefabricated sculpt; this is not even subject to the limits of terraforming. The texture of the ground feels soft, almost hand-painted and the trees by Hayabusa have a characteristic texture of crayon work.
Finally, the land is so delineated from the surroundings that, seen from any angle, it is framed by the sky or the horizon. Taken together, these factors mean that standing in this little bit of paradise feels very much like becoming part of a painting. I think that is another key to the simple stillness that can be experienced here.
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