We are two people and a dog, and we live in a two bedroom apartment in Los Angeles – which is more than fine. But post March 2020, it was not.
That summer, the office where my husband spends the day editing two TV shows was overheating from the sunshine and computers.
There was no space outside to just sit and breathe without masks on. Someone was always walking by, someone’s kitchen window was always to our left or right. My husband and I toyed with the idea of moving. Maybe subletting our place for a few months and going east, maybe buying a home with a yard somewhere in Los Angeles. But as the numbers of covid cases grew and the real estate market got more and more competitive, we realized it wasn’t a reality.
So I decided to escape, virtually.
I created my character (“Julius”) and named my island (“Gohanna”) and wandered around my empty island pressing all the buttons on the controller – wondering why there were glowing holes in the ground and random animals walking around, handing me oddly specific articles of clothing. I made rookie mistakes, like building our museum too close to a resident’s home, or eating fruit every day because I thought it was giving me energy to run. But as the days went on, things in this virtual world started to make sense. It was predictable,
It was controllable. I realized this was the space I was looking for.
Beaches I could fish on. Oceans to swim in. Rocks to hit. Grassy fields I could run through. Trees to shake. Bugs to catch. Furniture to build.
I now have a 5 star island, I have invited my niece and nephew over to explore, I have visited strangers’ islands to sell turnips. I have become a millionaire and I have caught a shark. Instead of moving furniture around in my own room I do it in my Animal Crossing house, and instead of wearing a bra I try on multiple outfits a day. I watch YouTube videos for tips and stalk Instagram accounts for design inspo.
My directorial feature film debut “I Will Make You Mine” was supposed to have had its World Premiere at SXSW in March, and since that festival was cancelled, I immediately set up a screening room in my Animal Crossing home. I uploaded the movies poster with a QR code and kept the film projector permanently on, to remind me it wasn’t just a dream.
That what I spent the last three years working on was real, even if I didn’t have a physical audience to share it with.
Being part of this virtual world is its own love language, scratching my quarantine itches, hitting the same bells (ha) and whistles that I have been longing for in my real life, giving me the space to explore my life goals in the most adorable way possible.