Logs:Drawn Out

Drawn Out
Dramatis Personae Alex, Desi, Jax, Tag	2020-06-18 "Do, uh, you work here?"
Location <NYC> Chimaera Arts - Dumbo
This is just one of the many abandoned warehouses in DUMBO, and like many of them it has recently changed hands. Unlike most of those, however, it does not have some corporate developer's sign out front promising a transformation into luxury condominiums or a boutique shopping center or the latest concept restaurant. Instead it's marked by a piece of weathered but wildly colorful plywood propped up on a stack of broken pallets, which reads "Chimaera Art Space!" above "chimaera.org" in smaller letters. The warehouse is moderately large and decorated with graffiti art in various styles--some of it recognizable as the work of renowned local street artists. A pair of monstrous scrap metal sculptures, perhaps still works in progress, flank the entrance. The building itself has undergone significant renovation recently, complete with wiring, plumbing, and a modular partitioning system. The grounds, too, have been cleaned up, ramshackle fences torn down and rusting detritus removed in favor of reclaimed (and brilliantly repainted) outdoor furniture ringing an impressively engineered firepit. It's quiet around Chimaera -- or at least, by this week's standards it is. Two of the side rooms have been closed off and labeled -- HEALING SPACE (BIPOC ONLY) says one, MEDIC SPACE says another, under a large red cross; the pantry is not quite overflowing with food but only by dint of several volunteers' careful organization earlier in the day; another storeroom HAD been just as neatly organized but another influx of medic supplies in boxes still needs tending. Right now, though, it's quiet -- a pair of young women are cleaning up the kitchen; two of the workspaces are closed off and occupied, a small handful of people are conversing around the courtyard firepit. One of the classrooms is just letting out for the evening, a few students lingering to talk with the brightly colorful painting instructor before he ushers them out in order to clean up. Jax is summer-bright today, light denim overalls liberally adorned with multicolored dragonfly patches, one strap secured and the other dangling down off his shoulder. The tee shirt beneath is heather grey, only partially obscured the rainbow text can still mostly be made out where it says WRATH in all caps across the chest. His hair improbably matches the metallic purple and green and blue of his makeup, bright and glimmering in a shade dye probably shouldn't be able to achieve. Though it is indoors, and night, he is settling mirrored dark glasses neatly into place as he emerges from his classroom, absently rubbing dried paint from the side of his finger. Tag looks quite asleep where he has collapsed on the love seat in the living area. His hair is as spill of rainbow colors that would fall to his shoulder blades if he were upright, and he wears a cheerful sky blue tank top punctuated with fluffy white clouds, a pleated midi skirt in gray but with bright rainbow colors hidden beneath each pleat, and hot pink boots with rainbow laces, both untied. A box of plain white t-shirts sit nearby, open and partially emptied. The neatly folded stacks of shirts on the coffee table, however, come in several different colors, printed with the cartoon mascot of the collective: a bright and cheerful chimera. He stirs as the students disperse, chattering, from their class, groaning as he levers himself up and shakes a fall of purple hair out of his face. His eyes are shadowed but his smile is quick as he waves at Jax, then stifles a yawn with that same arm. "Oh no, I meant to have these done." By these he perhaps means the t-shirts, but he does not return to this work at once, reaching for a thermos nearby covered with colorful doodles. "You want some food? I think I'm about to pass out. Um...again." Though not nearly as colorful as the vibrant summer colors of the art instructor, Alex's hooded shirt is done up as muted flames, browns and deep reds at the base giving way to oranges and yellows as the fire approaches his hood. The shirt is undone at the top, hood pushed back and the sleeves rolled up, showing off the deeply inked tessellation of feathers on his arms and throat -- and the literal feathers sprouting from his head. His eyes are eager as they flick around the space, feet slowly bringing him further in a meandering motion that lets him spin around and admire the art that adorns the walls. Alex smiles brightly at the students as he passes them, raising a hand in greeting. With another quick glance around the room, he steps over towards Tag and the pile of t-shirts. "Excuse me," he says, head tilting to one side and back in a movement that might look more familiar on a bird than a person. "Do, uh, you work here?" He gives Jax and Tag an apologetic look, glancing between them. "Sorry to bother you both." Desi had been helping to tidy up the kitchen, but the mention of "food" and "passing out" summons her forth with a plate of assorted pastries she had evidently set aside at the ready--neatly arranged into a rosette, no less. She wears a forest green half-sleeve tunic with a handkerchief hem over a long, many-layered purple skirt, and brown sandals whose straps wrap gracefully up to tie around her ankles. Her hair has been gathered into a neat Dutch braid that winds around her head to leave the tail hanging coquettishly over her left shoulder. "I can throw together some leftovers for one or both of you, too, if you like," she offers quietly as she sets the pastries down on a side table near Tag. Her vivid green eyes--also shadowed, if skillfully concealed with her "natural" makeup--flick to Alex when he speaks. "Mm, that is an interesting question, but I do think the simplest and most accurate answer is 'yes.'" Jax drops into a crouch beside the love seat, resting his head against its base. "Want is overstatin' the case but yeah, I probably need it." His nose wrinkles, but it evens out as he reaches for a shirt. "These are lookin' great though. I think the rest can wait a little." He tips his head up, eyebrows lifting and a brighter smile fixing itself onto his face as Alex approaches. "Oh, hey. You lookin' for help? We --" He nods affirmatively to Desi. "Something like that." "Whoa, like a magic. Thanks, Desi." Tag plucks up an apple turnover and nibbles on it without a lot of enthusiasm. He brightens at the compliment of the shirts. "Thanks! If I do the background color and the graphic all at once go it comes out with more like...depth? Trickier, though." He shrugs one skinny shoulder. The smile remains on his face as he turns his attention to their visitor, tidying the rumpled pleats of his skirt. "Hey, welcome! We're a collective--we're all workers and owners here. I'm Tag." Alex bounces once on the balls of his feet, eyes glancing between the trio of people. The pastries hold his attention for a moment, but he drags his attention back to the conversation quickly enough. "Oh, like a co-op? That's awesome. I was wanting to talk to someone about using some studio space. I mostly do drawing, so I don't need that much room, but it'd be nice to have somewhere that I could not worry about having to move it around all the time." His words come quickly, an excited rush of sound. He pauses suddenly, cutting himself off with a a light blush. "Sorry. I'm Alex. It's good to meet you." Desi looks over Jax's shoulder as he unfolds a shirt. "It does look an improvement." Her smile comes slower, more measured. "We do rent out studios, though if you're only planning to need it from time to time, you could probably just share space. Would you like a tart, or a turnover?" She waves at the platter. "Tag, Jackson--may I bring you some shepherdess pie? It's either that or the leftover Food Not Bombs chili." "There is only so much unseasoned chili I can eat in one lifetime." Jax reaches to pluck a tart off the plate, nibbling at it carefully. "We can get you a brochure if it's studio space you're lookin' for. There's -- different packages, dependin' on what your needs are. Don't really sound like nothin' too intense if you just need a space to draw." He shrugs one shoulder, plucking a bit off the crust of his tart. "But if you ain't gonna rent a permanent space, you will still have to move it around." His brows crease slightly, at this. "Anyway, you can look through options. See what's what." The colors of Tag's hair are shifting slowly, rotating clockwise. "Sure, I could go for some shepherdess pie. Thanks, Desi." He reaches over the side of the loveseat and pulls a handful of brochures out of the magazine pocket there. Then sorts through and sets aside the ones for classes and event space rental, plucking out the one for studio space rental and hauling himself up to hand it over to their visitor. "There you go. But I mean...you're talking illustration, right?" "O-oh, are you sure?" Alex asks Desi, eyes widening. It doesn't take him long to reach out to take an apple turnover and dig into it, though, with a little bite-and-rip motion. "Yeah, just illustration. I did a bit of sculpture years ago when I was in school, but that was... a lifetime ago." Alex accepts the brochure with a murmured thanks, though his eyes stay locked on Tag's hair as his smile bursts into full bloom. He rakes a hand through his hair, coming out with a lightly iridescent feather stuck between two fingers he doesn't even seem to notice. "Nothing that requires a whole lot of room or anything," he adds, tearing his attention back to the group at large. "Please, help yourself," Desi says equably. "If you prefer, we have a website, as well, but I'm hope you can find something that suits your needs." Then, to her fellow collective members, "I'll be back in a moment." "Cool." Jax's smile is polite as Alex takes the brochure. He nods towards it, takes another bite of his tart. "Well, if that's all y'need." His fingers flick towards the pamphlet in Alex's hands. "Ain't no classes going on right now so you can feel free to take a look around if you want to see what the facilities are like. Plenty more info on our website, too, it's a little more fleshed out there." His head tips back against the seat, looking up at Tag. "I think you got the right idea here. Who needs to wait to get all the way home for naps." "Well, feel free to take a look around if you like," Tag tells Alex brightly. "We don't have any like...WeWork setups, if that's what you're looking for? But let us know if you do decide you need some studio space. Thanks for your interest!" He sinks against the cushions, slants a grin at Jax. "It's not so much a bright idea as just running out of juice. I'm gonna be lucky if I don't fall asleep face-down in my food. Or...before the food even gets here." Unfolding the pamphlet and looking it over, Alex bites his bottom lip and worries it back and forth between his teeth before taking another few pecks of his turnover -- plucking the feather out from his fingers and putting it in his pocket. "Is... there any way that I could do some work to like, uh, pay for a locker or something?" Alex says, hesitantly, looking up with embarrassment at the others. "I mean, I don't need a full studio or anything anyway, but somewhere to store my stuff would be helpful. I had to throw out a box of pencils recently because of mold, and those are real expensive to replace." Jax looks back to Alex in mild surprise, his brows lifting as if -- ever so slightly off-kilter. "Oh! Uh --" His fingers rake through his hair. He twists around, reaching into the same pocket to pull out a second pamphlet and hand it toward Alex too. "We don't really just rent lockers to folk who ain't members. You can have the information on membership, too, but --" His teeth scrape against his lower lip. "I don't know if it's the most ideal option for someone who really just needs a space to -- only draw? Membership is actually wicked expensive but you can get it discounted heavy -- if you volunteer, like. A lot." His teeth sink in a little further against his lip. "A lot a lot. It makes a lot of sense for the folks who need all the fancy equipment and all but if you're just here to draw I'm -- not entire sure if that'll be what you're lookin' for? You can do that basically anywhere, you don't need to pay us to do that here." His shoulder lifts, drops. "But the information's in there, you can -- poke around, see if any of it makes sense for you." Tag winces. "That sucks, I'm sorry." He chews on his lower lip. "Yeah, we don't really rent out space for storage like that. I mean, honestly, we don't even really focus that much on renting out studio space. It's an option we offer for folks who want that, but it's kinda...incidental?" He looks to Jax as if for confirmation. "Mainly we're just a group of artists who share resources and some radical values. We work our asses off to support each other--and the larger community, when we can." He shrugs, but offers an encouraging smile. "Not that there's anything wrong with needing some storage or studio space, of course!" "I appreciate your honesty," Alex says, flicking his eyes back and forth between the two others. "Money isn't the most easy thing to come by, especially when you're... well." He gestures to himself, shrugging one shoulder. "To be honest in return, the fact that you haven't spit on me makes this place more attractive than the other couple I've tried." He waves a hand, shaking his head. "Anyway, I should let you get some food before you expend all your energy talking to me and have none left to eat." Alex says, lightly teasing. "Thank you for the advice - and the turnover. Please give your friend my thanks as well," he adds, gesturing in the direction that Desi left in. "This city sure ain't cheap," Jax says sympathetically. "An' Lord knows art ain't makin' most of us rich. I'm sorry you've had a tough time of it. We ain't exactly setting out to -- do a lotta capitalism, here, so we try to be straight with folks, not just milk cash outta 'em. Try to keep it a welcoming place for everyone, too." A large purple-trimmed straw hat appears on his head where there was not one a moment before; he lifts his hand, tipping it to Alex. "Take care, now."