East Jesus on a Slab

Look at a map of the Coachella Valley and you’ll find a plethora of wonderful side trips to educate and warp the mind. The Colorado high desert and Joshua Tree are just an hour North. Swing the other way around and you can be in the artist community of Idyllwild in the San Jacinto Mountains. Drop south and things get really interesting with the Salton Sea, Salvation Mountain and ‘The Slabs.’

If you take a right at the Salton Sea, you’ll end up in East Jesus and West Satan. Unlike the posh country clubs and rarified Aire that is of Palm Springs legend, this is a ‘lost world’ replete with fascinating characters, RV vagabonds and a few stragglers who look like human residue scrapped up from the bottom of civilized society. It’s a step back in time and void of any semblance to a world that vacationers have come to expect of Palm Springs.

East Jesus is next to West Satan which is just a stone’s throw away from Salvation Mountain. I passed the Fountain of Youth trailer park on the way into town. I think you get the drift.

The Salton Sea was cloaked in a shroud of mist and smell and dead fish on the day I ventured there. Fortunately, it was cool in the morning so the smell wasn’t overwhelming even if the rotting carcasses of Tilapia was a bit disconcerting to walk on. Further down the road past the trailers of Bombay Beach was the sad remains of Camp Dunlap, a World War Two Marine base lost in the desert. Appropriately named Slab City, the Quonset huts are gone now and only the concrete slabs remain.

Just down the road from Salvation Mountain, two former guard huts announce the entrance to Slab City. It’s estimated that there are about one hundred and fifty permanent residents (squatters) who live in the Slabs all-year round. Some live on government checks, others just want to live ‘off the grid’ and a few come to stretch out their retirement income. The camp has no electricity, no running water, no sewers or toilets and no trash pickup service. Sounds like a dry run for the apocalypse.

Despite the free shoe tree on the way into town and the free library, most of the residents have sectioned off their trailers, tents and sleeping bags with tires, pallets, or barbwire. Free is free unless it comes to their piece of heaven in the desert then even the squatters want their personal space recognized.

The library is an eclectic collection of cast-off books and magazines all free for the taking. The floor was dirt and the ceiling clear blue sky or sheets stretched between sections. The reading lounge was mainly occupied by lizards, tarantulas, and small droppings of a questionable nature. When I was there, the proprietor encouraged me to visit the art gallery at East Jesus which is next to West Satan. A request like that couldn’t be ignored.

East Jesus has been described as an experimental, sustainable, habitable, art installation. I was told that East Jesus is a colloquialism for the middle of nowhere beyond the edge of services. Made from discarded material that has been reused, recycled, or repurposed, East Jesus encourages visitors to imagine a world without waste in which every action is an opportunity for self-expression.

I think West Satan is a simply a suburb of East Jesus. The art gallery there was fascinating and mind-expanding. My wife, ever the one to encompass clear insight into as few words as possible, simply called it ‘bad art.’

Either way it was a fun trip that gave birth to other mind images that are still whirling around in my head. Someday they just might start leaking out my fingertips into future storylines. My visit challenged the notion of ‘what art is’ and dragged us out of our comfort zone for at least one afternoon.

It was at once fascinating, intriguing, sad, mind-expanding, and challenging. It was finding iconic and cultural-pop treasures in the middle of nowhere California…just a stones-throw from Palm Springs and the flip side of reality there.

It was tripping out without the acid and a glimpse into the lives of those who don’t want to be a part of ‘any scene’ here in fantasy land or the rest of the world.

I get it. They got it…and want to keep it that way.

Requiem for the Salton Sea

We’re not in item yet but if this maintains its present course, that might be an option.

I’m not talking romance but rather another possible collaboration born out of mutual love of music and story-telling. The subject of this mutual affection/collaboration are two plays. One is already infused with a wonderful selection of musical numbers to accompany the storyline. The second play is now screaming for musical adaptation and is being mentally formulated as I pound out this blog.

Unfortunately, there’s no immediate urgency since both plays have been rejected and it’s back to square one in terms of their theatrical placement.  ‘I do believe both plays are brimming with potential,’ claims their birth father, so the challenge remains daunting.

This collaboration in question initially began last year with a play entitled: PTV. I had written the lyrics for nine songs for the play but was stymied by my inability to write melodies to fit the lyrics. Enter AJ Scheiber, a very talented singer-songwriter, who agreed to look over my feeble attempt at lyric writing and added his musical expertise. The results are nine songs written specifically for the play.

In the meantime, another one of my plays had been submitted to the Script2Stage venue in Rancho Mirage, California, for consideration for their 2023-2024 season. It didn’t make the cut out of 130 submissions from around the world. That was disappointing for any number of reasons not the least of which was the subject matter which I thought was perfect for that venue and its audience.

Fast forward six months and now, unfortunately, the venue, Script2Stage, had closed down. This has made my options for theatrical placement in the Coachella Valley even more limited. Nevertheless, I want to continue to pursue this idea of musical numbers for my play which is now entitled ‘By the Salton Sea.’

I’ve always been fascinated by the Salton Sea and the area surrounding it. Salvation Mountain, The Slabs, Bombay Beach, North Shore, small towns along the shore and the Chocolate Mountains are all a backdrop for that briny pool of dead water and the fragile desert surrounding it. The area is home to many homeless folks and/or those who just want to disappear from the rest of the world. This became the backdrop for ‘By the Salton Sea.’

There are parts of the Coachella Valley that most tourists, visitors and locals-alike never see or care to visit. You won’t find them listed in ‘points of interest’ or top tourist destinations…and for good reason. This is where the ‘under-served’, ‘don’t want to be found’, ‘unaccounted for’ and ‘those on the lam’ come to hide. It also presents a warm, inviting cocoon for artists, bohemians, addicts, and the like to congregate and flourish.

Into that setting, I envisioned some nameless town along the shoreline that had attracted a strange gathering of the lost, the disappeared and those who want to be off-the-radar. As the playwright, I wondered who these people were? What was going to happened to them? And finally, who really cared?   A quick backstory here.

The Salton Sea is California’s largest lake measuring more than 35 miles long and 15 miles wide in spots. It has a surface area of over 380 square miles and sits at 332 feet below sea level. The sea was created back in 1905 as the result of an accidental break in a canal cut into the Colorado River. For 16 months, the river ran unchecked into the lowest area around; the salt basin which became the Salton Sea. Nearby is Salvation Mountain.

Salvation Mountain is one of the premiere examples of folk art in the middle of nowhere America. The site has become a mecca for those influenced by and intrigued with this kaleidoscope of painted hills, crude cave dwellings and religious scripture. The cave’s paint can and hay bale construction would challenge even the most daring of spelunkers. Down the road is an abandoned World War Two camp nick-named ‘The Slabs.’

Slab City is a snowbird campsite used by recreational vehicle owners alongside squatters from across North America. It takes its name from the concrete slabs that remain from an abandoned World War II Marine barracks called Camp Dunlap.

It’s estimated that there are about one and fifty permanent residents (squatters) who live in the slab’s year around. Some survive on government checks; others just want to live ‘off the grid’ and a few come to stretch out their retirement income. The camp has no electricity, no running water, no sewers or toilets and no trash pickup service. Sounds like a dry run for the apocalypse.

No trip to Slab City would be complete with a swing by East Jesus. East Jesus has been described as an experimental, sustainable art installation. It’s is a colloquialism for the middle of no-where beyond the edge of services. Made from discarded material that has been reused, recycled or repurposed, East Jesus encourages visitors to imagine a world without waste in which every action is an opportunity for self-expression.

I think West Satan is a simply an extension of East Jesus. I found this second art gallery-in-the-sun fascinating and mind-expanding. It was like tripping out without the acid and a glimpse into the lives of those who don’t want to be a part of ‘any scene’ here in fantasy land or the rest of the world.

I thought the story was too good to be lost and forgotten in some junk pile of rejected scripts. So, I’ve decided to add musical numbers (just like PTV) as an enhancement to the play. I’ve shifted through those words, phases, and images encased in my brain and wrote out lyrics describing that place all within the context of my storyline.

And thus begins a new series of rewrites to smooth out the dialogue and scene settings to better segue into song. Much like PTV, it’s both an immensely fulfilling and yet very arduous process. In the end, I hope it will infuse ‘Salton Sea’ with another layer of interest that might help sell the concept to the next venue I approach. Here’s hoping.

Art Around Every Corner

Unlike a lot of cities, Palm Springs and its neighboring communities don’t have just one art district. Perhaps it’s the continuing and encouraged diversity of its inhabitants or the friendly rivalry between cities up and down the Coachella Valley. Whatever the reason, there are artist enclaves scattered throughout the valley and each carries its own special uniqueness.

Art and Palm Springs go together like the blended reaction of alcohol ink spread out on a tupo paper. The area is a strange cornucopia of harsh geography, colorful history and strange transplants who have transformed this stretch of desert into a playground for artists of every ilk.

On the surface, Palm Springs is known as a desert oasis, a fashionable resort town and global mecca for innovative modern architecture. Among the founders of Desert Modernism were Bauhaus-influenced architects Albert Frey and E. Stewart Williams, whose legacies can still be seen in numerous public and private structures around town. But beneath that façade of blue skies and bright white modern buildings is an environment bubbling over with creative endeavors from all the arts.

From the outrageously expensive art pieces on El Paseo Drive in Palm Desert to the rudimentary scratch pieces at the East Jesus outdoor gallery in Slab City, artistic endeavors have taken on every imaginable form and fashion, shape and design, subtle and in-your-face expressions of thought and ideas.

The Backstreet Art district is located several miles from downtown Palm Springs in an old strip shopping mall. There are dozens of artist-owned galleries and working studios which feature paintings, sculpture, photography, jewelry, ceramics as well as space for the performing arts.

A much larger area for artists is located at the Palm Springs Art Museum and north of downtown in the Art and Design District. At one time this area was a barren stretch of boarded up storefronts and half empty motels that offered none of the glamor and cache of old or new Palm Springs. Over time that changed and now the Uptown Art and Design District is a true enclave of galleries, design shops, restaurants and housing for the creative minded types.

The Ultimate in artistic regeneration and commercial display is located down the valley in Palm Desert. El Paseo Drive is a mile long commercial strip that is generations and millions of dollars removed from the mud huts of early painters deep in the desert. It is meant to embody the style and elegance of high society in the desert. This art-strung boulevard houses over 250 retailers, professional services, renowned restaurants and locally owned boutiques. It is the ultimate avenue for anything and everything you never knew you needed or wanted.

Desert art has come a long way from those first ancient petroglyphs through ‘en plein air’ to the rich tapestry of creative talent that resides here now. There are a plethora of art shows, film festivals, world-class gallery and museum events, rotating exhibitions, national touring and locally produced theater, classical to contemporary music concerts, couture fashion shows and architecture and design tours. The Southwest Arts Festival is just one of a dozen or more art festivals throughout ‘the season.’

South of Palm Springs and the Coachella Valley lies a cluster of primeval ancient relics of art that confuse, shock and amuse the errant wanderer who happens upon their grounds. I discovered that several years ago when I stumbled upon several enclaves of mystery just south of the Salton Sea.

Down a dusty road from the Salton Sea is Salvation Mountain. This strange collection of painted hills is one of the premiere examples of folk art in the middle of nowhere America. The site has become a mecca for those influenced by and intrigued with this kaleidoscope of painted hills, crude cave dwellings and religious scripture. The cave’s paint can and hay bale construction would challenge even the most daring of spelunkers.

The artwork is made from adobe, straw and thousands of gallons of lead-free paint. It was created by the late Leonard Knight (1931-2014). A deeply religious man, Knight created an art piece that encompasses numerous murals and areas painted with Christian sayings and Bible verses. Knight’s philosophy was built around the ‘Sinners Prayer.’

Slab City otherwise known as ‘The Slabs’ is a snowbird campsite used by recreational vehicle owners alongside squatters from across North America. It takes its name from the concrete slabs that remain from an abandoned World War II Marine barracks of Camp Dunlap.

It’s estimated that there are about one and fifty permanent residents (squatters) who live in the Slabs year around. Some live on government checks, others just want to live ‘off the grid’ and a few come to stretch out their retirement income. The camp has no electricity, no running water, no sewers or toilets and no trash pickup service. Sounds like a dry run for the apocalypse.

Despite the free shoe tree on the way into town and the free library, most of the residents have sectioned off their trailers, tents and sleeping bags with tires, pallets or barbwire. Free is free unless it comes to their piece of the desert then even squatters want their personal space recognized.

No trip to Slab City would be complete without a swing by East Jesus. East Jesus has been described as an experimental, sustainable art installation. East Jesus is a colloquialism for the middle of nowhere beyond the edge of services. Made from discarded material that has been reused, recycled or repurposed, East Jesus encourages visitors to imagine a world without waste in which every action is an opportunity for self-expression.

West Satan is simply a suburb of East Jesus. I found the art gallery there fascinating and mind-expanding. It was tripping out without the acid and a glimpse into the lives of those who don’t want to be a part of ‘any scene’ here in fantasy land or the rest of the world.

The high desert communities of the Morongo Valley, Yucca Valley and Joshua tree continue to attract artists and musicians now as it has since the turn of the century. This is another world of vast nothingness peppered with the sad remnants of past lives. It’s a place where stillness thunders louder than the wind and God did some of his finest paintings. It is a vast virtual sound studio for the creative musician and blank canvas for artists of every discipline.

The area is a mecca for aging rock stars and modern-day bohemians along with ordinary people all in search of a new beginning. It’s the place where people go to get lost and be creative.

Joshua tree and these surrounding communities embrace another form of existence; all of which is surrounded by endless horizons.

Yet as much as time changes the flavor of art, Sharon and I still get to immerse ourselves in the daily show all around us. Each morning, sunlight still dances off of the mountain side and casts imaginative shadows over our lives. It’s like a new show taking place every day and we get to be in the audience and enjoying that celestial talent from above.