My friend Sydney and I wandered through the desert in southern California, completely lost. Not the kind of lost that makes you fear for your survival, since we could clearly see RV’s and other signs of the Slabs all around us. It was the kind of lost born of total confusion and frustration. We knew we were in Slab City, a squatter town no more than a square mile long, yet we had been wandering the desert now in total darkness for well over an hour and a half without a single sign of familiarity. Gradually, far off in the distance, we could hear the sounds of thumping techno music and purple flickering lights. With no other real option, we began walking towards the lights and thumping bass that clearly wasn't home, but we hoped would somehow help us get our bearings back.
We crested over the final hill to our destination, stumbling down into an encampment of clean-cut twenty-somethings gathered around a fire playing banjos. The light of the camp fire was almost blinding after spending so long in the darkness, but not nearly as bewildering as the sights beyond it. To the left of us was what appeared to be a black wooly mammoth standing nearly twelve feet high; to our right, a white geodesic dome in a constant change of blue and purple colors where the music that had drawn us here was coming from; and just behind the people and the campfire we could make out a myriad of other strange sculptures and artifacts that were outlined in colorful lights, but were still shrouded in enough darkness to defy description.
The twenty-somethings stopped their music, and turned towards the confused looks on our faces. Sydney and I looked at the them, the strange sculptures around us, then back at each other. I had the wonderful, yet disorienting feeling that we had just accidentally walked into a Burning Man festival.
This was my introduction to East Jesus, a place that I had no idea even existed in the Slabs until I stumbled right into the middle of it. Over a year later, I find myself waking up every morning in a perfect little trailer located right in the middle of it all.
What is it?
The name East Jesus sounds like a weird cult perhaps, and while we do often make jokes about drinking the Kool-Aid, the name actually comes from the idea of being way out in the middle of fucking nowhere. That’s fairly accurate, since it’s not a place you can find easily. It’s a place you have to seek out. That is, if you know it’s there at all.
East Jesus lies on the outer edge of Slab City, which itself is a squatter town near Niland, a town in the Salton sea region of southern California. Started by Charles Russell in 2006 as an artist retreat, it’s a place for those that want to escape the world for a while, create amazing art in the desert, and live in a place where they're free to do and act as they please.
In May of 2011, Charles Russell passed away at the age of forty-six. He left behind too many friends to count, and in his absence these friends came together to make sure his life’s project and dream didn’t die. It was at this point that East Jesus became more or less a collectively run project, maintained by a rotating cast of residents. East Jesus continues to be a place of inspiration and experimentation in habitable sustainability.
I've been living at East Jesus since December of last year, and it’s been an amazing experience. There’s new art being developed nearly every week, parties almost every weekend, and an almost constant flow of new people coming to visit from around the world. The only bad part about East Jesus is that there’s generally so much going on I've barely visited the rest of the Slabs since I moved here. So today I thought I would write about what it’s been like living here for the past four months, and give you an inside look as to how things work behind the scenes.
The Art
At center of East Jesus is the art. Charlie Russell’s focus was on repurposing trash into something beautiful. There’s simply so much of that re-purposed material here that even after four months I'm still seeing little things I've never noticed before, on the ceiling, on the walls, and hidden in little nooks everywhere you go. The art garden is the first thing you'll see when visiting East Jesus, since it’s a stretch of desert approximately 100 yards long and 30 yards wide filled with all kinds of unique sculptures. There’s a lot of art to see here, but if you want a small preview, check out the pictures above or have a look at their website at EastJesus.org.
The Community
The residents of East Jesus is what keeps the camp going year round. It’s a surprisingly diverse set of people from a number of backgrounds, and new people come and go fairly often throughout the year. This year’s long-term residents have included Joe Angio, an electrician from Indiana, his wife Anna, who became one of EJ’s most popular tour guides; Phil Morsby, an incredibly talented writer that has become a voice for EJ’s blog; Frank Redford, a sarcastic giant, whose artistic and organizing skills have laid the foundation of EJ’s success this year; Sue Whitmire, a school teacher and sculpture artist, her husband Ken, a professional videographer; and lastly, myself as the resident “computer guy”, doing things like designing the EJ website, and putting together the Indygogo fundraising campaign to replace one of the batteries in our solar panel system.
These are just a few of the amazing people who have spent weeks or months at EJ. There’s a lot more. Too many to mention. Like everyone that spends time out here, they've all made considerable contributions during their visits, and it’s one of the few things that EJ demands of its residents. It’s had all sorts of guests from woofers to weekend partiers, but if you want to spend more than three days here, get ready to contribute.
Frank Redford is often heard telling guests, “We give you the first three days to get comfortable, relax, and get to know the place. After that, we put you to work.”
Work generally consists of at least two hours a day of building art, taking out compost, cleaning solar panels, or anything else that needs doing around the camp. It’s hardly grueling, and in this kind of relaxed atmosphere EJ hasn’t come across too many people who weren't willing to do their part.
Outside of Slab City, EJ has a huge array of friends. The majority are from the Los Angeles area, friends of Charlie Russell who come out on a regular basis to contribute building materials, or just lend a hand at building art pieces in the garden. The rest of EJ’s friends are from all around the world, and generally keep in touch through the EJ Facebook page, a place for friends and former visitors to keep an eye on the project’s progress.
Behind the Scenes
Expenses
Living at EJ full-time (or even just visiting for a few weeks) is one of the more unique experiences one can have in Slab City. Thanks to the forethought of its founder Charlie Russell, it’s blessed with a lot of the amenities missing from other parts of the Slabs. An incredible array of solar panels gives it the power needed to provide electricity for power tools, lighting for the living areas and sculptures at night, and even a decent internet connection (at $70 a month), one of the things that will keep you sane during wind storms or the slower seasons of the year, like the summer.
Water is brought in by Toy Man, a man in the Slabs with a truck and water tank. Toy Man has an arrangement with Mae’s, the local grocery store in Niland, to fill up water from their business and sell it to the residents of Slab City for roughly fifteen dollars per 100 gallons of water. He'll even set you up with your own water tank and stand for around sixty dollars. EJ uses about 200-300 gallons a month for general consumption and watering of a meager garden in front of the music room.
As part of EJ’s sustainability mission, they have incorporated a “humanure” system for human waste. It’s a composting system designed to take something most people just bury, and turn it into something productive and reusable. The bathrooms at EJ are sitting toilets just like you'd have at home, but with a bucket instead of a toilet bowl. Once done with your business, there’s another bucket next to you filled with peat moss. You use this peat moss to bury your waste, thus completely eliminating all the disgusting aspects associated with outdoor toilet systems, like files, smell, and so on. When the toilet bucket gets full, an EJ resident will take it away to be dumped into the compost heap where it will spend the next six months or so breaking down into fertilized soil that will be used for the garden.
Aside from the items mentioned above and occasional building materials, the only other real expense at EJ is diesel fuel for the generator. This is rare, since the solar panel system and EJ’s energy consumption is closely monitored to prevent having to use it. Despite this, in the desert there are often “wind days”, where the gusts reach upwards of forty miles per hour or more, creating occasional sand storms, and days where overcast skies will severely impact the amount of power the solar panel system brings in. It’s on these occasions that it’s incredibly useful to have a 5,000 watt generator around.
Living Spaces
One of the most amazing things about living at EJ is the living spaces themselves. There’s a wide variety of trailers and RV’s to live in, combined with more unique sleeping areas, like the Sunset Suite, an outdoor bedroom covered by a truck canopy that faces towards the horizon. The amazing sunsets happening daily in this region make the Sunset Suite a popular spot for guests. A recently built and yet-unnamed outdoor bedroom lies on the roof of EJ itself, and when finished will provide an amazing view of the stars at night, coupled with an unfortunately early wake up time when the sun rises. As with most things at EJ, these spaces are often referred to in a tongue-and-cheek fashion as their “less-than-luxurious-suites”.
The communal areas of EJ are centered around the living room and campfire area. They're two areas that vary in popularity depending on the weather. The living room consists of chairs gathered around a rebuilt poker table made from a school district throw away. This area is covered, providing protection from the sun and occasional rain storm. The campfire area is more popular at night. Made out of a clothing washer found in the desert, the fire pit is surrounded by comfortable couches and is a wonderful place to take a nap in the sun.
The kitchen of EJ is something to be proud of. Clean, functional, and having the same artistic twist everything else has at EJ, it boasts a fully functional refrigerator, microwave, oven, six propane burners, and dish washing area. While a kitchen is something most take for granted in their homes, I often look at the kitchen in EJ with wonder. In a place as poor as the Slabs, it’s one of the fanciest setups I've seen out here.
The Music Room
My favorite place in the EJ camp has got to be the music room. It’s the one place I can look at and always be reminded that I've been living in a gypsy mansion for the past four months. It’s an amazing backdrop of art and lighting that makes it a magical place hear live music. In the time I've been here I've seen perhaps a dozen or more amazing acts play in this room. It’s definitely a place to experience first hand, but since this is the internet and all, a few videos will have to suffice:
The Library
Another nice part of EJ is the library. Out of all the communal libraries I've seen, this one is by far the most interesting. It has a great selection of odd and interesting books, including some H.R. Giger, an autographed Bob Ross book, the complete Monty Python series on DVD, and dozens of copies of Bizarre Magazine, which is one of my favorite bathroom readers. There’s a lot of interesting items in the back as well. If you make it out here to visit, ask someone to tell you the story of the stuffed caged birds in the back.
The Gun Range
Towards the back of the EJ property is a lot of neat little random things, like a buried metro bus, the hitchhiker camp, an artsy little shack, and other odds and ends, but the one spot worth mentioning the most is the infamous “clothing optional” gun range. Located down in the wash next to EJ, it’s a safe spot for guests and residents alike to fire off some rounds into targets set up on a desert wall. In the tradition started by Charlie himself, most residents of EJ are a big fans of shooting guns, fire, and explosions. Guests are encouraged to bring their own guns and ammo as long as they are legal and have proper paperwork.
Paradise Found?
Overall, East Jesus has been a winter well spent. I've made friends and had experiences I never would have expected, and I'm going to be very sad when it comes time to leave. If you're traveling through southern California, you should really put East Jesus on your map. Stop by and have someone give you the tour (there’s generally always someone around happy to do so), just remember to make your visit during the day, since wandering onto people’s property at night is generally frowned upon in the Slabs.
If you're interested in a weirder and more unique woofing-style experience, get a hold of them on their website and ask if you can volunteer. Make sure to explain your areas of expertise and how you can contribute, and who knows, maybe I'll be seeing you next season.
We crested over the final hill to our destination, stumbling down into an encampment of clean-cut twenty-somethings gathered around a fire playing banjos. The light of the camp fire was almost blinding after spending so long in the darkness, but not nearly as bewildering as the sights beyond it. To the left of us was what appeared to be a black wooly mammoth standing nearly twelve feet high; to our right, a white geodesic dome in a constant change of blue and purple colors where the music that had drawn us here was coming from; and just behind the people and the campfire we could make out a myriad of other strange sculptures and artifacts that were outlined in colorful lights, but were still shrouded in enough darkness to defy description.
The twenty-somethings stopped their music, and turned towards the confused looks on our faces. Sydney and I looked at the them, the strange sculptures around us, then back at each other. I had the wonderful, yet disorienting feeling that we had just accidentally walked into a Burning Man festival.
This was my introduction to East Jesus, a place that I had no idea even existed in the Slabs until I stumbled right into the middle of it. Over a year later, I find myself waking up every morning in a perfect little trailer located right in the middle of it all.
What is it?
The name East Jesus sounds like a weird cult perhaps, and while we do often make jokes about drinking the Kool-Aid, the name actually comes from the idea of being way out in the middle of fucking nowhere. That’s fairly accurate, since it’s not a place you can find easily. It’s a place you have to seek out. That is, if you know it’s there at all.
East Jesus lies on the outer edge of Slab City, which itself is a squatter town near Niland, a town in the Salton sea region of southern California. Started by Charles Russell in 2006 as an artist retreat, it’s a place for those that want to escape the world for a while, create amazing art in the desert, and live in a place where they're free to do and act as they please.
I've been living at East Jesus since December of last year, and it’s been an amazing experience. There’s new art being developed nearly every week, parties almost every weekend, and an almost constant flow of new people coming to visit from around the world. The only bad part about East Jesus is that there’s generally so much going on I've barely visited the rest of the Slabs since I moved here. So today I thought I would write about what it’s been like living here for the past four months, and give you an inside look as to how things work behind the scenes.
The Art
The Community
These are just a few of the amazing people who have spent weeks or months at EJ. There’s a lot more. Too many to mention. Like everyone that spends time out here, they've all made considerable contributions during their visits, and it’s one of the few things that EJ demands of its residents. It’s had all sorts of guests from woofers to weekend partiers, but if you want to spend more than three days here, get ready to contribute.
Frank Redford is often heard telling guests, “We give you the first three days to get comfortable, relax, and get to know the place. After that, we put you to work.”
Outside of Slab City, EJ has a huge array of friends. The majority are from the Los Angeles area, friends of Charlie Russell who come out on a regular basis to contribute building materials, or just lend a hand at building art pieces in the garden. The rest of EJ’s friends are from all around the world, and generally keep in touch through the EJ Facebook page, a place for friends and former visitors to keep an eye on the project’s progress.
Behind the Scenes
Expenses
Living Spaces
One of the most amazing things about living at EJ is the living spaces themselves. There’s a wide variety of trailers and RV’s to live in, combined with more unique sleeping areas, like the Sunset Suite, an outdoor bedroom covered by a truck canopy that faces towards the horizon. The amazing sunsets happening daily in this region make the Sunset Suite a popular spot for guests. A recently built and yet-unnamed outdoor bedroom lies on the roof of EJ itself, and when finished will provide an amazing view of the stars at night, coupled with an unfortunately early wake up time when the sun rises. As with most things at EJ, these spaces are often referred to in a tongue-and-cheek fashion as their “less-than-luxurious-suites”.
The communal areas of EJ are centered around the living room and campfire area. They're two areas that vary in popularity depending on the weather. The living room consists of chairs gathered around a rebuilt poker table made from a school district throw away. This area is covered, providing protection from the sun and occasional rain storm. The campfire area is more popular at night. Made out of a clothing washer found in the desert, the fire pit is surrounded by comfortable couches and is a wonderful place to take a nap in the sun.
The Music Room
The Library
The Gun Range
Towards the back of the EJ property is a lot of neat little random things, like a buried metro bus, the hitchhiker camp, an artsy little shack, and other odds and ends, but the one spot worth mentioning the most is the infamous “clothing optional” gun range. Located down in the wash next to EJ, it’s a safe spot for guests and residents alike to fire off some rounds into targets set up on a desert wall. In the tradition started by Charlie himself, most residents of EJ are a big fans of shooting guns, fire, and explosions. Guests are encouraged to bring their own guns and ammo as long as they are legal and have proper paperwork.
Paradise Found?
Overall, East Jesus has been a winter well spent. I've made friends and had experiences I never would have expected, and I'm going to be very sad when it comes time to leave. If you're traveling through southern California, you should really put East Jesus on your map. Stop by and have someone give you the tour (there’s generally always someone around happy to do so), just remember to make your visit during the day, since wandering onto people’s property at night is generally frowned upon in the Slabs.
If you're interested in a weirder and more unique woofing-style experience, get a hold of them on their website and ask if you can volunteer. Make sure to explain your areas of expertise and how you can contribute, and who knows, maybe I'll be seeing you next season.
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