The Hub
The Hub was designed as the starting point for every experience in our ecosystem — not just a launcher, but the emotional foundation of the platform.
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At a time when most VR interfaces leaned on game conventions or clinical utility, I set out to design something different: a space that felt calm, personal, and quietly confidence-building, especially for users new to immersive technology.
What a “Home Screen” Could Be
From the beginning, I approached the Hub not as an interface, but as a place. Drawing from research in environmental psychology and my background in interactive entertainment, I treated spatial design as a primary emotional tool — not just a container for features.
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The result was a single-room environment that felt like part of a private residence: open, uncluttered, and intentionally calm. High ceilings, clear lines of sight, soft materials, and customizable lighting were all designed to support a sense of safety and creative ease — especially for users who might feel vulnerable or uncertain in VR for the first time.
Designing for Emotional Safety
One of my primary goals with the Hub was to invert a common VR pattern: instead of using intensity and spectacle to create engagement, I focused on comfort, familiarity, and control.
Many VR experiences rely on surprise, height, or sensory overload. The Hub did the opposite. The user’s position was grounded. Their back was protected by a closed wall. Spaces behind and to the side were softened with textiles and warm materials. Even the outside world — visible through large openings — was framed as something soothing rather than overwhelming.
This wasn’t aesthetic decoration. It was deliberate emotional design — creating a baseline of safety that allowed everything else in the experience to work better.
Virtual Functionalism
While designing the Hub, I formalized a design philosophy I call Virtual Functionalism — a way of rethinking how objects and spaces should behave in virtual environments.
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In the real world, form follows function because of physical constraints. In VR, those constraints disappear — but emotional and experiential needs become even more important. A couch in VR doesn’t need to support weight, but it can support comfort, familiarity, and emotional grounding. A curtain doesn’t need to block light, but it can bring life to a space by responding to virtual wind.
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With the Hub, I applied this philosophy throughout the environment — designing objects not for physical necessity, but for how they made people feel and how they supported presence, play, and emotional ease.
A Space That Teaches Without Lecturing
The Hub had to work for users with wildly different levels of experience — from gamers to people who had never touched a VR controller. Rather than rely on tutorials and instructions, I designed the environment to teach through interaction.
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Objects subtly communicated how they could be used. Visual haptics, rollover behaviors, and gentle animation cues replaced heavy UI. Instead of menus feeling like overlays, they felt like extensions of the space itself.
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This approach let inexperienced users build confidence naturally, while still giving experienced users depth and flexibility. It also allowed for a sense of discovery for all users.
Designing a Companion, Not an Assistant
I designed Uva to be expressive, but deliberately understated. In her neutral state, she remains calm and grounded rather than overtly animate — a choice informed directly by user research showing that older and less game-oriented users responded better to subtle, respectful character design.
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This balance allowed Uva to feel emotionally present when needed, without becoming a distraction — helping unify systems, story, and experience into a cohesive whole.
Designing for Long-Term Engagement
As the platform matured, I began extending the Hub beyond orientation and into long-term engagement. One result of that work is the Progress Viewer — a system designed to make growth and consistency feel encouraging rather than clinical.
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Instead of relying on dashboards and metrics, progress is expressed through a spatial calendar, subtle moments of celebration, and character-driven feedback from Uva. Streaks, milestones, and goals are acknowledged through animation and tone rather than pressure — supporting motivation without introducing stress.
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This approach reflects the same philosophy that shaped the Hub itself: designing systems that guide behavior quietly, respectfully, and humanely.
The Progress Viewer can be opened by the user or by Uva when specific usage criteria are met.
Outcome
The Hub became more than an entry point — it became the emotional center of the platform. It established a design language that balanced warmth with clarity, playfulness with purpose, and freedom with structure.
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More importantly, it proved that VR environments don’t have to feel technical, overwhelming, or game-centric to be engaging. They can feel like places people want to return to — places that quietly support comfort, curiosity, and confidence.