panels, manufactured by a company called Sky Factory, whose motto
is “Illusions of Nature.” “Wouldn’t it be nice to have this in your
house instead of lights?” he asked. “Wake up and turn the sky on?”
I guess, I figured, but then again, I like to actually look out a
window. But there was no time to debate; we moved on to the
Research Laboratory for Immersive Virtual Environments,
optimistically if not ironically dubbed ReLIVE. The room is
cinderblock with concrete floors, about 14 by 20 feet.
Here, he would introduce me to his scientifically derived
restorative world. He wired me up to finger electrodes for measuring
my galvanic skin response (GSR, otherwise known as sweat) and an
infrared sensor for my heart rate. He asked me to calculate out in my
head the answer to 13 times 17, and then 12 times 14. On cue, I
immediately stressed out. Then he crowned me with a precision-
tracker 3D headset, a bit like scuba goggles but tricked out with a
gyroscope and accelerometer. This would capture my movement so
the 3D video could respond, fully immersing my brain in
Valtchanov’s virtual paradise. At least that’s the idea.
A generously sized Samsung monitor fired up, and I found myself
walking, or rather, walk-floating, on a deserted island in the tropics.
Valtchanov creates these worlds over thousands of hours, adding
sounds like birds, water streaming, chirps, grass rustling, the thud
when we jump off small rises. The movement was strange.
Valtchanov was controlling my speed and direction, so I felt like I
was being dragged by my forehead through an environment at high
speed.
“Do you feel like you’re the game-master guy in The Hunger
Games?” I asked him, half expecting balls of flame to start smacking
me.
Valtchanov virtual-pulled me along a path, my virtual feet
crunching on the ground, then down a hill, through some tall grasses,
then to a beach. I started getting woozy. Then I was suddenly dragged