On a whim I began an apprenticeship at a hair salon in San Francisco. I was impressed by the job in the sense that I saw how one could make good money doing something creative and fun on a flexible schedule. There was a staff of 15 – it’s a well-known and high end salon. But I didn’t get along with the owners and I ended up moving to an Aveda salon in Berkeley. That didn’t work out either – I just didn’t fit in. Finally, I ended up in a low budget beauty school just to get my cosmetology license. Megan and I talked about opening up a punk rock hair salon in North Oakland to cater to the hipster crowd. But by the time we finished and had the license in hand, we were totally broke. And after 2 years of training, I was disappointed but not surprised to discover that I didn’t even want to work in a hair salon. What next? The unemployment insurance had been used up attending beauty school.

Life was changing, and this was around the time we began attending some of the early shows at Liminal. Megan knew a few of the people from working at the Wall Berlin café in Berkeley. They had recently gotten a warehouse in West Oakland. Our rendezvous was a converted warehouse, located squarely within the burnt out postindustrial urban wasteland – aka – the ghetto of West Oakland. Shout out to all my friends and neighbors

We began attending some of the early shows at Liminal.  It was refreshing to connect with my peers, with artists and outcasts.  Megan knew a few of the people from working at the Wall Berlin café in Berkeley.  They had recently gotten a warehouse in West Oakland.  The first 6 months or so they basically disappeared…having pooled all their money to pay the rent, purchase tools and building materials.  Living in the midst of build out is no fun.  Hazardous and dirty, it’s a physically and psychologically grueling challenge (and great fun besides).  Imagine:  you and nine other people dragging all your crap to an empty warehouse.  There’s no bathroom, kitchen, hardly any windows and just a few lights and electrical outlets.  You have to demolish what’s there and build new living quarters.  The terms of occupancy are hardly favorable - oftentimes it is “illegal” to live there at all.  The best case scenario is a 5 year lease – that’s up to 5 years – if you’re lucky enough to avoid being evicted by the sleazy landlord or busted out by the City.  You’ll have to maximize usable space and this means being flexible with overlap between your respective lives.  And this is where it begins to get interesting.  People will come and go.  Overlapping subsets of friends and acquaintances converge and re-constitute at key points in time creating (if you’ve done your job well) a unique scene, a discernable local subculture.