CTL ALT Delete: the struggle for creativity, in Second Life

Four years ago to the month, Dido Haas invited me to visit a new exhibition at her Nitroglobus Roof Gallery. Entitled Camouflage, it was a double first for the gallery: the first time art produced outside of Second Life had been displayed at the gallery, and it was the first Second Life exhibition by an artist known in-world as Traci Ultsch.

It was an exhibition which immediately captivated me, as I noted in Camouflage and questions in Second Life. The style of the art was visually engaging to the point of exhibiting a sense of being tactile, whilst the questions within them served to encourage us to both peel away the layers present within the images to bring forth thoughts on both the artist’s own introspections and on the relationship between our virtual and physical identities.

Since that time, Traci has exhibited her work across Second Life, and I’ve frequently covered her work in these pages. I’ve continued to be fascinated by her work, both in the manner in which it has evolved, and for the depth of expression and interpretation it contains. Her art has always been deeply personal, reflecting thoughts on life, the impermanent nature of all things, and the importance of capturing of moments in time.

Traci is now back at Nitroglobus for November / December 2024, where she is exhibiting what might be her last exhibition of art in SL, CTL ALT Delete, within the gallery’s Annex. And one again it combines many of the elements noted above as it explores matters of inspiration, procrastination, fragmentation of thinking, the desire to create – and the confluence of these opposing streams which leads to the creative drive to stall, turning it from what should itself flow through a process to become a struggle to move from half-formed, shadows of ideas to what might be called a finished piece without simply cancelling it (hence CTL ALT Delete).

Framing the exhibit, Traci uses a quote by Philip Larkin, variously called England’s most miserable genius, the voice of post-war England (and more besides!):

I dreamt of a beach, of the sun in my eyes and your hands in mine. Instead I still just see these dark fucking trees.

It’s an ideal quote in terms of CTL ALT Delete, in that it both reflects the blocks that come between desire – be it in wishing for visions of love and warmth or in the desire to create – only to become mired in darker moods / feelings; and in the way we use trees to express our inability to see something clearly because the details get in the way: I can’t see the woods for the trees –  which can so often be the case when it comes to creativity, be it in art, writing, music, or whatever.

Trees also feature in the first elements of CTL ALT Delete, which offered an enumerated passage through its images, starting to the immediate right of the entrance tunnel  connecting the Annex with the main gallery when you arrive at the landing point in The Annex. Their use, against an overcast / foggy sky serve to lead us into the ideas contained within the images, expressed through fragments of thought given as text; fragments which demonstrate how the creative process can be interrupted and distracted. These continue through the rest of the series, becoming less and less coherent as the images themselves also become less and less coherent, underscoring, as Traci notes, the essential role of both within the exhibition:

The absence of a defined subject becomes the subject itself … The images and text invite viewers to witness the act of this failing creative endeavour as a dialogue between presence and absence, construction and deconstruction … In embracing this state, the works magnify the struggle to make something out of nothing.

– Traci Ultsch

A fascinating exhibition, one I hope will not be Traci’s last in Second Life, even if there is a pause between this and the next.

SLurl Details

• Nitroglobus Roof Gallery (Sunshine Homestead, rated: Moderate)