Oh, the Places I'll Never Go
Xaynor and Unreal Places
Recently, I came across a new place. I found the commercial for this as a YouTube recommendation. Like Zadar in my last letter to you, it is something surreal. Here is what I saw.
Opening Scene: The Rock Slag
A fractured pyramid of rock slag and shadow stands. Someone walks through the broken arcade down the path underneath, out of the sun. The wind is strong and pulls at her. She is air. She stares to behold the other pile of slag across the way. There is saxophone playing.
A man, dressed in a linen suit, makes his way, again, through the shade and sun to see two other gentlemen playing chess. One moves his pawn forward to the open middle of the board. They sit at a small table. It is stone. The board’s visible energy field pulls the pawn into place, locking it firmly against the opponent. The man’s eyes are as crisp as the electricity.
Just beyond them, a couple sits together. She is scrolling through an electric line-art portrait of various massages on a not-iPad. She is laying on pillows that are laid on top of stone. He turns his head to look back toward something, showing his cool sunglasses, large and stoic. It is sunny. His gaze takes us to a pool over there. Some are swimming.
A saxophone player is wailing somewhere, in the clouds perhaps. At last, we see him pulling a draught. He is likely somewhere close by, looking over the group eating together at a heavy stable table. There are no backs to the seats they have. They sit on benches. There are plates on the table. They are mid-conversation.
Someone at the table turns her head, and the day turns to night. The rock slag walls are aglow with lights that make warmth against the blue of the night. People are out. They seem to be talking until the lights arrive. There are holograms floating in the air just above them. It is a light show.
Behold: Xaynor
What did I see? This is a place for people who see themselves as demi-gods. Why? It is a mix of luxury and strength that is refined over time, with serious training, and often easily attained by, then maintained from, youth. The spaces for rest, like the couple choosing a massage sitting on the floor on pillows or the restaurant’s bench, all still require strength to enjoy. Only the semi-ethereal could enjoy rocks like this.
Visually, it is a balance of density and lightness. The hard slag is balanced by the linen and flowing clothes everyone wears. The earth is coarse but their skin is smooth. The abundance of water for a pool is an obvious contrast to the desert’s natural deprivation. The electric lights, those in the chess board and the holograms, contrast the harsh light that deserts are also known for.
The idea of relaxing is more soothing than the reality. I simply disagree that sitting on rocks and being forced to maintain equally solid posture on those rocks is a comfortable experience. I accept bench seating at outdoor seating at a cafe or restaurant. You must be kidding me if I am required to do that at the spa of my choice. Here, I would feel important, not at rest.
I don’t think it is for me.
Thankfully, that decision is already solved. It doesn’t exist.
It is strange to see a place that doesn’t exist. Recognizing that this is another project inside Neom, like The Line, and thus is not removed from my displacement by luxury, it is filled with awesome possibility (or outlandish promises like “Unusual Morphology”). And that has been the splinter in my mind about this place. Even if you wanted to, you could not go there. And even if I could, I probably don’t want to go to Xaynor.
What do you do with a place that doesn’t yet exist? Without its location, this place is fantasy.
As I wrote last time, place very much determines what can happen. With a canvas of so much potential and total optionality, it is unfortunate to see this all be so deliberately rough. I’ll pass.
More soon,
Trevor
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It seems one of technologies’ greater feats was the rapidness of information sharing, the disjunction of time and space to share amongst us the realities of so many, the preponderance of other lives, other spaces, the modern day showing off of our little palaces’ of Versailles. In this preponderance a small fraction of contemplation is all that is necessary to reveal the perplexities of such fantasies. That they are but that, fantasies to escape the physical word you so describe, but with little capacity to evoke anything more. A wistful dream to perhaps hide the greater truth that so many of us today are Hegelian materialists, that the physical world reigns supreme and the realities like these must be interpreted if we want any modicum of real luxury, real serenity. As you say so too do we all seem to say at the end of such fantasies, oh the places we shall never go!