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.

 

Lifecycle of a Warehouse

 

Initially and at times empty and abandoned

25 friends make a warehouse warming

Riding bikes, smoking joints

And playing music keeps the cold

At the margins of our perception

9-12 people can create

So much noise:

The sounds of snoring

Footsteps, breathings

The sighs of fucking

Arguments screaming

How many dishes

We bought at the Salvation Army

Crashed and joined the growing pile

Of metal, drywall and concrete

beercans, scraps of beams and joists

6X8 4X4 2X6

Broken sawblades, warped strong-ties

The trashcans of sawdust

 

Ghetto-Fabulous-Fetishes

 

Drawn to these urban centers

Compelled to come to know

those trapped here

Draw the line/hear/see

Come and see/come to know

Come to find…the intentionally left behind

Outcast underground…my generation

Supposed to be your

Disposable service class

But something has gone wrong

We’re not sedated by the TV anymore

endless credit no longer a palliative

your contradicted modern madhouse itself calls out for change

So we’re pushing the boundaries

Demanding more – accountability

Responsibility, sanity

This world we inherit has been crafted by whom?

Not us – but we will leave our mark

Have our point made — It’s these graffiti tags

It’s the story told in hidden words and pictures

Of our impending unity