Pangloss

"I was about to delete the entire sim," Bowie Lana Zeplin told me, "that was about three weeks ago." Then, suddenly, people began arriving, "and more people, and more people." And with good reason: Bowie has designed a strikingly beautiful sim named Pangloss, filled with all shades pink, carnation, puce, coral, salmon, carmine, lavender, rose and other pastels. Just as was the case with Wendy Xeno and her sim HuMaNoiD, Pangloss was never intended to be a public destination point—it was simply Bowie's home. Word spread quickly as bloggers began to arrive, and now there's even a sim photo competition on flickr. (When I arrived here today, Nelson Vannagan was at work, shooting a large school of fish leaping out of the water on the south side of the sim.)

In tandem with the leaping fish, an enormous flying whale graces the north side of the sim, while a trio of sea turtles contribute their presence to the west. Most of Pangloss is just barely above sea level—the lush carpet of reddish-pink grasses and trees are rooted in the small patches of land just high enough to evade the water. But not all of the land is low to the ground: to the east, a broad plateau rises from the ground, covered with tall, windswept maroon grasses, and here one can grab a ride on a flying machine for a lazy and delightful soaring tour of the entire sim. There is also one hidden space on the sim, the "heart of gold," as Bowie metaphorically calls it. You'll know it when you find it. "Even though everything on the sim looks pretty, it's sprinkled with dark," she says. "Illusions of grandeur really. So long as the lost soul can return to the heart, then they can overcome the darkness around." If you enjoy Pangloss, please consider leaving a contribution.

Thanks to Anita Witt for suggesting a visit to Pangloss.