Don't forget to click the gallery tab above to see a lot more photos that weren't included in the article!
Despite having heard countless stories and read many books about often wonderful squatting scenes in Europe and elsewhere, the majority of squatted buildings I've lived at in the United States have been hideouts. Only a few have been overt campaigns that were welcomed by the community. The rest of the time it's mostly just been a bunch of punks trying to find shelter somewhere they won't get harassed by cops.
So when I was invited to the Church of Carl Sagan, I was excited to see another real life example of anarchist philosophy along the lines of what I'd heard of and read about in other countries.
Now before we begin, I just want to point out that the Church of Carl Sagan is a pseudonym, and a bit of a inside joke. Since I first posted this article back when StP had a blog, I've gotten a lot of requests from strangers asking to know where it is, and if they can stay there.
The answer is basically, no. When the home of a group of individuals exists in such a grey legal area, it's not something you generally advertise to the world. Finding one to live in is either a matter of starting one yourself or becoming involved in the communities that surround them.
There's no sign up sheets or WWOOFing-style websites, you just have to get involved in the (mostly) anarcho-punk movement and keep your ear to the ground. It's not difficult to pick out the tourists from those with a genuine passion for something, so your opportunity will present itself if it's something you really care about and want to become involved in.
Now with that out of the way, let's move on. My original intention when I came out to Oakland was to film a documentary about squatting for the StP audience. Although after I spoke to a few people in the Oakland squatting scene, it was pointed out to me that there'd already been a boat load of similar things done before.
Now I realize that I could (and should) have gone along with my idea for the learning experience if nothing else, but this was told to me in the kind of snooty-activist fashion that basically insinuated I was stupid for even attempting; which took the wind out of my sails to say the very least. Looking back on it now, I regret not telling her to fuck off and move on merrily forward as I had intended.
Instead, I abandoned the idea assuming she was correct in that it was not very original. With suddenly no clear direction or goal in mind, I decided to do a simple photo shoot of the squatted home I'd been invited to stay in.
The house itself was felt like it was built somewhere between the 1930's and 50's, but the interior held the furniture of the 1970's style furniture you'd expect to see at your grandparent's house. Most of it came with the house when it was first squatted, with a few other curbside couches added later on.
The length of the house reminded me of row houses in Baltimore I'd lived in, but with the width of a 'normal' house that wasn't competing for space with it's neighbors.
The living room was obviously the focal point of the house, with rarely a moment going by without it being occupied.
Beer bottles lined the walls in what seems to be an unspoken tradition in most punk houses.
The pictures above seemed to capture the clusterfuck of free transportation methods being used at the house.
I actually love old furniture like this. Anything I can lie in sideways and dangle my feet over.
I hate it when people assume squatters are just inherently dirty people, it's fucking bullshit. Although this kitchen was heavily used, it was cleaner than most punk houses I've been to.
Honestly I wasn't used to being around so much awesome dumpstered food. This is one of the things I miss most about communal living
Even though I only photographed the two bedrooms of the house (the two that I was invited to), I still felt a little awkward about it, but got a few good pictures in the process.
This is my favorite picture of Rusty in "The Caboose" one of the bedrooms on the top floor.
"The Caboose" was probably my favorite room to photograph since there was a lot of interesting graffiti on the walls and was one of the more chill hang out spots in the house.
I think my only regret about the time I spent here was that I didn't get more portraits of the folks living there, but I didn't really think about it at the time. Also, I think most people would have passed on it considering the nature of their living situation, but fortunately I did get pictures the two people above, which are some of the best pictures I've taken recently.
There's a few more pictures in the gallery below, but the ones above are really the ones I wanted to highlight here. If you like em, post a comment or follow me on instagram at http://instagram.com/squattheplanet
Despite having heard countless stories and read many books about often wonderful squatting scenes in Europe and elsewhere, the majority of squatted buildings I've lived at in the United States have been hideouts. Only a few have been overt campaigns that were welcomed by the community. The rest of the time it's mostly just been a bunch of punks trying to find shelter somewhere they won't get harassed by cops.
So when I was invited to the Church of Carl Sagan, I was excited to see another real life example of anarchist philosophy along the lines of what I'd heard of and read about in other countries.
Now before we begin, I just want to point out that the Church of Carl Sagan is a pseudonym, and a bit of a inside joke. Since I first posted this article back when StP had a blog, I've gotten a lot of requests from strangers asking to know where it is, and if they can stay there.
The answer is basically, no. When the home of a group of individuals exists in such a grey legal area, it's not something you generally advertise to the world. Finding one to live in is either a matter of starting one yourself or becoming involved in the communities that surround them.
There's no sign up sheets or WWOOFing-style websites, you just have to get involved in the (mostly) anarcho-punk movement and keep your ear to the ground. It's not difficult to pick out the tourists from those with a genuine passion for something, so your opportunity will present itself if it's something you really care about and want to become involved in.
Now with that out of the way, let's move on. My original intention when I came out to Oakland was to film a documentary about squatting for the StP audience. Although after I spoke to a few people in the Oakland squatting scene, it was pointed out to me that there'd already been a boat load of similar things done before.
Now I realize that I could (and should) have gone along with my idea for the learning experience if nothing else, but this was told to me in the kind of snooty-activist fashion that basically insinuated I was stupid for even attempting; which took the wind out of my sails to say the very least. Looking back on it now, I regret not telling her to fuck off and move on merrily forward as I had intended.
Instead, I abandoned the idea assuming she was correct in that it was not very original. With suddenly no clear direction or goal in mind, I decided to do a simple photo shoot of the squatted home I'd been invited to stay in.
The house itself was felt like it was built somewhere between the 1930's and 50's, but the interior held the furniture of the 1970's style furniture you'd expect to see at your grandparent's house. Most of it came with the house when it was first squatted, with a few other curbside couches added later on.
The length of the house reminded me of row houses in Baltimore I'd lived in, but with the width of a 'normal' house that wasn't competing for space with it's neighbors.
The living room was obviously the focal point of the house, with rarely a moment going by without it being occupied.
Beer bottles lined the walls in what seems to be an unspoken tradition in most punk houses.
The pictures above seemed to capture the clusterfuck of free transportation methods being used at the house.
I actually love old furniture like this. Anything I can lie in sideways and dangle my feet over.
I hate it when people assume squatters are just inherently dirty people, it's fucking bullshit. Although this kitchen was heavily used, it was cleaner than most punk houses I've been to.
Honestly I wasn't used to being around so much awesome dumpstered food. This is one of the things I miss most about communal living
Even though I only photographed the two bedrooms of the house (the two that I was invited to), I still felt a little awkward about it, but got a few good pictures in the process.
This is my favorite picture of Rusty in "The Caboose" one of the bedrooms on the top floor.
"The Caboose" was probably my favorite room to photograph since there was a lot of interesting graffiti on the walls and was one of the more chill hang out spots in the house.
I think my only regret about the time I spent here was that I didn't get more portraits of the folks living there, but I didn't really think about it at the time. Also, I think most people would have passed on it considering the nature of their living situation, but fortunately I did get pictures the two people above, which are some of the best pictures I've taken recently.
There's a few more pictures in the gallery below, but the ones above are really the ones I wanted to highlight here. If you like em, post a comment or follow me on instagram at http://instagram.com/squattheplanet
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