We’ve all built a Ricky’s Resort in our minds—the vacation version of ourselves that exercises, socializes, and drinks something with an umbrella in it. But for many, the resort is unreachable. It becomes a screensaver. A fantasy that reinforces the very walls of the room. Part III: Are They the Same Place? Here is where the deep lore gets interesting.

At first glance, they sound like two entries on a sad travel brochure—one for the depressed introvert, one for the guy who “just needs a piña colada.” But look closer. These are not just places. They are emotional states. They are architectural metaphors for a specific kind of modern loneliness.

A few artists have merged the two into a single installation: Ricky’s Room Resort —a hotel room that is also a prison cell. The bed is made of cardboard. The “ocean view” is a 14-inch CRT playing a VHS of a wave. The resort keycard opens a lock on the inside of the door.

Inside the Two Faces of Ricky: From Digital Solitude to Virtual Paradise