We’re on the cusp of a transformative new medium. People are able to scale virtual mountains, play Frisbee Golf with new friends from the other side of the earth, and create art with the lowest barrier ever between the mind and the work. But why, then, do we still not have a place to call home in this new medium?
An interface is not a home. A store, no, it’s not a home. A launcher? Try again. Even a room where you can change the look of the floors and the walls; that’s still not a home. After all of my time spent immersing myself in the various launchers, pseudo-Operating Systems, and virtual desktops, I started to realize something:
A home is about comfort.
A home is somewhere that you have the ability to bring in a world of content and organize and arrange it how you like, without being barraged with other things when you don’t want them. A home is a place that reflects you, both in your own style and as a reflection of the journeys that you’ve been on. A home is somewhere that you’re proud to exist in. It’s somewhere that you are proud to show off and would invite someone over to.
Virtual reality has proven itself by giving us access to amazing experiences that would have never been possible ten years ago. There’s a disconnect, though, that happens when we jump in and out of VR. It seems so incredibly strange to me that although we go into VR to have these amazing experiences, we’re always passing through a cold, sterile environment on our way there. VR is never going to feel truly right in our heads until putting on a headset feels less like going to a mall or amusement center and instead more like stepping into your own, personal alternate reality.
This is the type of future we’re building with holos. Will you join us?
Visit our website, holos.io, to learn more about holos, the VR homespace that lets you do more.