Factory Obscura | MIX-TAPE

Factory Obscura is back and better than ever, and now in their very own space! I mean, as much as I loved going to random tire warehouses on the outskirts of town, I’m happy that the Factory Obscura team now has a permanent spot to call home. Obviously we were pretty pumped to check it out during our November trip.

Enter the Mix-Tape.

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Probably my favorite room in the mix (pun intended) was a life-sized and fully functioning girl’s bedroom which I affectionately dubbed “Smells Like Tween Spirit.” I was instantly transported to the days when I could be found lying on my carpeted floor, surrounded by magazine clippings, and blasting some melodramatic song that perfectly surmised my teen angst. In this edition, and in a show of pure genius, the bedroom’s hairbrush became a microphone to sing into while lyrics of varying songs scrolled across the vanity mirror. My sister crooned to Lizzo’s “Good as Hell” as we flipped through the imaginary occupant’s diary… boys, amirite?

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In another show of creepy teen genius, the hallway between the bedroom and the next immersion were lined with valentines and secret notes… or at least that’s what they appeared to be. In the beginning, the notes were hopeful and endearing but as you moved along the hallway, they became increasingly more distressed and paranoid, evoking the quick ups and downs of teen romance and young love. The only thing we were missing was Helga G. Pataki’s Arnold shrine.

Another great moment was this mystery video link. By punching random buttons and talking cryptically, we quickly realized that we were conversing with actual people and not an automation; we just couldn’t figure out where they were. Were they in another part of the warehouse? Were they on the other side of the wall? NO! This was actually connected to Factory Obscura’s sister art-house, Meow Wolf in New Mexico! So if you find yourself in Santa Fe, look for the purple shark eye shell!

Till we meet again Factory Obscura. Can’t wait to see what you’ll be cookin’ up for next year.

War & Leisure (or, Third Annual Plaza Walls)

Finally! The Third Annual Plaza Wall post! And only five months late. It’s fine. It’s not like we’re in the middle of a global pandemic or anything and time has completely lost it’s meaning… oh wait. So I guess now’s a better time than ever to sit back, relax, and look at some really cool art people made.

Welcome back to the Plaza Walls of Oklahoma.

Great Scott! A rare photo of me in my element. Just couldn’t resist an ode to one of my favorite musicals dripping in Halloween vibes.

On our way back to the car, we spotted this beauty. Although I don’t think I’ve ever seen one in real life, I love that the scissor-tailed flycatcher is the Oklahoma state bird so we get to see it pop up in imagery more. I only wished I had a wider lens at the time to capture this mural in all its glory.

Although not officially a part of the Plaza Walls, I asked my dad if we could make a pit stop at the “Oklahoma Aiukli” on Western Avenue, mainly because I had always admired it but also because I still hadn’t nailed a good shot of it (still haven’t but fingers crossed for next year).

‘Aiukli’ is a Choctaw noun for beauty and artists Erin Cooper, Lauren Miller, and Amanda Zoey based their mural’s likeness on 13 year-old Bella Aiukli, a member of the Choctaw tribe. Butterfly wings, catfish scales, and scissor-tail feathers are all woven into Bella’s hair; the artists taking care to be respectful of Choctaw heritage while creating a modern look with an uplifting message of hope.

Conveniently for us, Guestroom Records is also located on Western Ave so we were able to hop across the street and pick up the new Bruce Springsteen CD for my dad and a The Specials record as a thank you gift to my pet sitter back in Milwaukee. Plus my dad made a new friend. Very helpful and adept at navigating the stacks.

Just another day in the OKC. Till next time.

New Hard Drive, Who Dis?

Miss me? After 5 tortuous months I was finally able to have my computer diagnosed and hard drive replaced (shout-out to Jeff Main, step-dad extraordinaire by day, computer wizard also by day). Good news, a) I have a working computer and b) I have access to all my old files from my Apple Macbook. Bad news, I lost all my photos from 2018 and 2019 for the most part (and maybe all the music files I’d been amassing since high school, but I’m still holding out on that one). I guess all you can say is oh well and start shooting again. So prepare for more posts to come… as soon as I catch up on some Lightroom edits…

Factory Girl

When your friend’s in grad school and asks to spend her first Saturday off in months with you, you are obviously excited. When she asks if you want to spend said Saturday going off to take pictures, you can’t believe your good fortune. Which is how I found myself waking up one Saturday morning to go shooting on the North Side with my friend Whitney. Both with a love for architecture, we thought we’d go explore the old factories and neighborhoods of this often overlooked Milwaukee area...

It was at this point that Whitney’s camera promptly decided to die on us (some sort of switchboard malfunction we later learned, RIP). We got back in the car and headed into the Sherman Park neighborhood where I was hoping my aimless driving would eventually lead us to one of my favorite Milwaukee murals. Which it did. Upon approaching the mural, you’ll notice it’s divided up into sections. On the far left side is the continent of Africa, and on the far right is a young boy setting an eagle free in front of the state of Wisconsin. In between these two are figures of women – “the cushion, creators, and comforters… connecting the cultures, values, and history of the two locations” - draped in color and African textiles. George Gist is the artist behind this bright and colorful piece and was asked by the Wisconsin Black Historical Society Museum to paint a mural that projects and showcases their African-American community as a celebration of community and culture.

Luckily Whitney still had a couple disposable cameras in her bag too so all was not lost.

Our last stop before heading back home, was discovering this seemingly abandoned school house. Someone had painted some beautiful geometric designs on the boarded up doors and windows and we were instantly drawn to them. We were also weirdly into this Cold War-looking building out back and snapped a few shots. We’re brutalists at heart, what can I say.

Louisiana Musings | NOLA | Part II

We last left our heroes wandering around a cemetery older than some US states. Left being the operative word here since we were unaware that New Orleans had “operating hours” for their graveyards. We had just wandered outside the main gate to snap a pic of the historical marker when we heard a woman yelling, “THREE MINUTES AND I’M LOCKING THIS DOOR AND Y’ALL GONNA BE STUCK IN THERE FOR THE REST OF THE NIGHT!”… it was 3 o’clock in the afternoon. Good to know.

Feelings of hunger were beginning to take hold, so wandering down Magazine Street in the Garden District seemed like a good decision. Rum House nachos, here we come…

After exploring the Garden District for the better part of the day, John and I headed back to the Seventh Ward to change into some fresh clothes and head to our predetermined dinner location: the Three-Legged Dog. We had stumbled upon this little hole-in-the-wall Easter Sunday due to it’s crawfish boil sandwich board out front and quickly made friends with the staff, telling them we’d be back for the boil. And damn did they do it up. We proceeded to down probably 2lbs of crawfish with the Milwaukee Bucks game in the background (bless you Blake for putting that on for John) and PBR’s in the foreground; you can take the boy outta MKE, but you can’t take the MKE outta the boy. We probably left the bar around 1 or 2am and as we drunkenly made our way back to the house, you can bet that I was blasting “Old Town Road” by Lil Nas X from my phone like I was a 90s boom box emcee.

Woke up to a debilitating hangover the next day and cursed the gods for my lack of foresight in water consumption. When I could finally move my body, the only thing I wanted was fried okra, convinced this was the one cure to my ailments. So I dragged John back to the Quarter for some southern comfort: a cup of gumbo and an overflowing platter of fried okra, feeling more whole as I proceeded to clear my plate.

It was our last full day in New Orleans so as we walked, we soaked up the last bits of NOLA like french bread and étouffée. I was gonna miss our neighborhood strolls between the shotgun houses and the creole cottages, and of course, the doors…

Thanks for the memories Louisiana. You’ll always be number one in my heart… okay, maybe number two; that guy up there is looking pretty cute.