Quasi-vegan afro futurist was the last thing I heard before leaving L.A. on the way back to the desert. Almost a month away for summer travel, New York, Massachusetts, Montreal, Sturgis, Salt Lake City, et al.
First things first. A 90 degree turn for Garths large storage fridge that hasn’t cooled anything for years. Organizing canned goods feels like the right logical progression after lifting a 300 pound cement sink into place. Sean “Manifest”(there are too many Seans in the world), has really taken a hold up top and seems to have filled the power vacuum left in Nick’s wake. He has been kind and bossy so far but seems to mean well.
We spend the morning helping with the kitchen and then return to the site. Decision is made we’d be more productive making a to-do list at the saloon. We run into Ted Quinn, Andrea and friends, and watch the local open mic night.
A momma bear and cubs were recently spotted on the property, and smashed up our closest neighbors Emanuel and Kilos’ camp. We sleep up top in Josiah’s rock since he’s still away for the summer. It’s stuffy; we talk about ventilation and pivoting windows.
The next morning we feel inspired and give a much needed redesign to our own temporary kitchen in the caves. Space and level ground are limited so this takes most of the day but we are rewarded with ease of use and falafels. Some scrap wood from the junk pile makes a nice two-tiered shelf and a slab of granite, the perfect counter top. A cinder block and wood shelf to hold the bulk jars reminds us to think about Enzo Mari. C’est la vie to the days of bins, and living in fear of the ominous critter. Mice, lizards, snake, bear: the kitchen is now open.
In the morning we clear dead cactus from the upper area, and Manifest shows us his Bedouin tent compound, boasting various tapestry hangings, half a sword, an inch-long splinter he once had, and wings from a dead owl he found on the side of the road preserved with sage in a pelican box. Webs, networks, the ‘burn’, global communities, and how technology is continually squandered by corporate interest.
We pack sandbags the rest of the day back at our site.