Showing posts with label #artist. Show all posts
Showing posts with label #artist. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 1, 2025

A YouTuber in Canada lives in an abandoned bank. Is this one answer to the housing affordability crisis?


This is definitely not my taste in interior design, but I love her creativity and way of making this place uniquely her own.  DIY content creator Mariane Plaisance and her boyfriend live in an old bank building in Montreal, Canada, which she has completely redecorated inside.  We have a growing number of commercial buildings now losing money, and many standing vacant or fully abandoned.  In addition, there's a major affordability crisis in housing across the U.S., Canada, and some other countries.  Is living in a remodeled commercial building an answer to these problems?  Maybe.  

What would your dream house look like?  Think about it for a moment.  Where would it be?  What color would it be?  How many bedrooms and bathrooms would it have?  If money was no object, would you have a gigantic mansion on a hilltop?  Would it be way out in the country?  In the mountains?  In the middle of a city where the urban action is?  Would you have a home theater?  A huge swimming pool?  Would you have droids to wait on you?  The ultimate open kitchen? A slide?  A fire pole between floors?  Would your master bedroom be underwater?  When it comes to customizing a living space, there have been all kinds of amazing and ridiculous homes built throughout history, particularly for people with more money than they knew what to do with.    

Today, a quarter of the way through the 21st century, we are decades into a long transition period in society.  The late futurist Alvin Toffler called it The Third Wave, in his 1980 book with that title.  He and his wife believed we were leaving the industrial-based society of the last 350 or so years, and moving into an information-based society.  He wrote several books explaining how this massive transition in society might play out, as he explains in this interview from 2007.  

Forty-five years after Toffler published The Third Wave, I believe we are now reaching the point of peak change in the transition the Tofflers wrote about.  In 2025 we have a major housing affordability crisis in the U.S., Canada, and several other countries.  Here in the U.S., we also have a major homeless problem that has grown exponentially in the last 20 or 25 years.  At the same time, because of the Industrial Age to Information Age transition Toffler wrote about, we have tens of thousands of commercial buildings that are no longer viable for their original purposes.  Thousands of these structures, ranging from small houses to entire sports stadiums, have been abandoned.  First there were abandoned factories and some warehouses, then came houses in those cities, then retail storefronts in small towns, larger abandoned stores, dead malls, and now a growing number of abandoned older office buildings, in nearly every city in the U.S..  

I've been writing about this issue of empty buildings on my Substack site, in a series of pieces called Simulpocalypse.  One of my main reasons for writing this series is to dive into this topic is to try and figure out how we could actually put many of these buildings to new, cool, viable uses for today's world.  

That's where Mariane, in the video up top, and her renovated bank turned into a work and living space, comes in.  This is a great example of how someone turned a vacant commercial building into a cool, funky, whimsical, and YouTube studio and unique home.  I think this type of thing can be done in many, many more instances, if we can get through the issues of evaluating a building's current true value, local red tape, outdated zoning laws, and the other things keeping thousands of other under used and vacant buildings from finding new uses for today's world.  

Mariane and her boyfriend bought the old bank for about $500,000 U.S. dollars, in Montreal, where the median home price is about $600,000.  So they held out, as the price dropped, and made an offer, so they got the property for less than the median price of a home there.  The bank has about 3,500 square feet, which I bet is much larger than the average house size.  At half a million U.S. dollars, this isn't a super cheap place to live.  But it is less than an average house there.  Now imagine if you had a somewhat larger building, and had several people sharing it, two or three couples or several single people, each creating their own living space (and work space) in the building.  You could bring everyone's living expenses down quite a bit.  

I've been writing about "the coming recession" for several years now, since some long term trends suggested this next recession would bring a huge level of change throughout society.  Here in the U.S., we have a major housing affordability problem, particularly for Millennials and young Generation Z, just entering their working life.  At the same time, we have what I'm now calling the "Simulpocalypse," a growing number of vacant commercial buildings across the U.S..  

There are a handful of people living in commercial buildings who have videos here on YouTube.  Not many.  As this recession deepens, and as commercial real estate continues to tank in retail and office particularly, some people will figure out how to live in some of these spaces.  I'm not talking about the large adaptive reuse projects that cost tens of millions of dollars, but average people realizing that if they have a small business of some kind, they can rent an old store front or industrial unit for half as much money as a decent apartment.  

Yes, zoning is an  issue, but vacant properties getting tagged, vandalized, invaded by drug addicts or other homeless people, and possibly catching fire are other, often bigger issues.  There will inevitably be property owners willing to lease to people who run a small business and live in their vacant stores, warehouses, or office buildings, just to get some income.  Other people will be desperately trying to get out of buildings, and will take some weird offers to sell these properties.  While I don't see this as the biggest answer to housing affordability, I think this is likely to be a quiet trend over the next several years.  Time will tell if I'm right about that or not.  

"New ideas need old buildings."

Did you check out the video embedded at the top?  Mariane is French Canadian, if you haven't figured that out yet by her accent, and her DIY YouTube channel is in French, and it's called 2e peau.  Her work as a DIY content creator led both to how the couple could afford to buy this building, and to the nature of her amazing renovations and redecorating of this building.  As millions of people struggle to afford decent places to live, will more people start renting or buying commercial building to live in, or create live/work places tapped into today's internet-based business world?  I think it's definitely a possibility.

If you read my blog or Substack, you know that I've been living homeless for many years now.  So why am I so interested in abandoned commercial buildings?  Well, for one, let's just say I've become much more sensitized to today's housing issues, because of my own struggles to make a decent living and find housing, starting with my taxi driving days, about 25 years ago.  But there's more to it than that.  I've had this weird dream of living in a converted industrial building since I was a kid.  It started with a womanizing TV detective when I was about 12-years-old.  

At 20:46 in this episode of the 1978 TV show Vegas, we see private eye Dan Tanna drive his classic Ford Thunderbird into his apartment, with a flat tire.  This clip leads into a long scene in his "apartment."  In the show, Tanna lived in an industrial building out near the Las Vegas airport, and he would drive his car right into the living room.  Like pretty much every 1970's private detective on TV, Dan Tanna was a hero every week, and a consummate ladies man, in the James Bond tradition.  But it was that cool apartment in the old industrial building that I always thought was the coolest part of the show.  

In the 1986 bicycle messenger movie Quicksliver, starring Kevin Bacon, Jack and his ballet dancer girlfriend live in a spacious loft, the quintessential artist's loft.  In this corny road bike freestyle/dance scene, he's riding around their apartment, trying to distract his girlfriend from her ballet practice.  Yes, it's a stereotypical, 1980's, corny, romantic, movie montage.  But this is one really cool loft apartment.  By the time Quicksilver came out, I was a hardcore BMX freestyler, and this cool loft built on the dream I had, started by Dan Tanna's industrial building apartment Vegas.  The dream of living in a funky, cool, industrial building someday, where I could ride my bike or park my car in my "living room," kept growing in my head.  I'll be honest, that dream still exists.  I'm probably not the only one who has imagined living in some old industrial building transformed into my own cool, personal live/work space.  

My dream actually happened, sort of, back in 2005.  I was working as a taxi driver, scraping by week to week, paying about $600 every week to lease my cab, and putting another $300 or more in the gas tank, every week.  After paying my expenses, I didn't have enough money to rent a decent room or apartment.  So I lived in my taxi, 6 1/2 years total, and took showers at the gym.  I got a cheap motel room once a week, usually on Sunday nights, because business was slow.  I'd watch a little TV, eat a cheap pizza, and get 10 or 11 hours of good sleep.  After working 70-80 hours a week, all seven days, one night of good sleep did wonders.  

Another taxi driver, a guy named Richard, had an indie art gallery in an industrial unit in Anaheim, the AAA Electra 99 Art Gallery and Co-op.  He made me an offer one day.  The deal was that he would let me live in the art gallery during the week, and I would drive his taxi all weekend, from Friday afternoon until early Monday morning.  I took the deal.  I moved into the gallery, and suddenly had 4 days off.  I worked long hours on the weekend, and lived with a mama cat and her six kittens in the gallery Monday through Friday afternoon.  It was in that place that I invented my Sharpie Scribble Style of drawing and shading with markers.  That drawing technique now provides most of what little income I earn now.  I lived in the gallery for 8 or 9 months, then went back to full time driving in the cab, hoping to rent an apartment at some point.  

Living in an indie art gallery was pretty damn cool, and jump started my creativity, which was non-existent, for about three years, when I moved in.  I became a visual artist in that crazy little gallery.  I've now sold over 100 large drawings, in the last ten years.  I didn't see that coming when I moved into the gallery, in the late summer of 2005.  I didn't have a BMX bike, and I was really out of shape then.  So I didn't do any freestyling in my "living room."  I didn't have a car then, either.  Electra did have a big roll-up door in the back, but the stage was right there, where garage bands played on the weekends.  So I couldn't pull my car into the living room.  

So in my weird head, the dream of a really cool live/work art studio/gallery/apartment housed in a commercial building still lives on.  Personally, I need to sell my drawings for a lot more money to make that happen.  But who knows?  Maybe someday the dream will come true... again.  As for the millions of people looking for a reasonable place to live, I think we will see more people figuring out ways to live in vacant commercial buildings since there are thousands of them sitting vacant or underused across North America.  If this idea appeals to you, check out some of the links in this post for further ideas.    

I'm doing most of my writing on Substack these days, though I still do a post here on the blog once in a while.  Check out the whole Simulpocalypse series on Substack, all about the growing number of struggling and abandoned homes and buildings in the U.S..  

Tuesday, March 12, 2019

Living in an Art Gallery: Cats


This man is Richard Johnson, taxi driver, fame ass arteest (in the hippest of SoCal circles), owner/benevolent dictator of the AAA Electra 99 Art Gallery (& Museum), and the guy who gave me the opportunity to actually live in an indie art gallery.  That gallery is where my Sharpie scribble style of drawing was born.

I had about two weeks of peaceful sleeping on a couch, then they finally got to me.  Every morning after, I would wake to several tiny claws poking me in different places.  It wasn't a horrible way to wake up, but it could be startling, especially if the claws were in my eyelids or face.

It started on August 24th, 2005.  I remember this because it was the weekend that the massive category 5 hurricane known as Katrina was barreling down on the gulf coast.  I had been working as a taxi driver for two years straight, from late August 2003 to August 2005, based in Huntington Beach, California.  I began driving a taxi in Orange County, CA after an injury, what I thought was a hernia, in 1999.   I drove a cab until losing my driver's license, due to a clerical mishap at the DMV, in December of 2000.  I worked odd jobs after that, and ended up homeless, in late 2002.  Then I got a job at Stone Creek Cafe, a weird deli/restaurant/mini mart/sushi/wine bar combo in the food court of the ultra upscale, Fashion Island Mal,l in Newport Beach, California.

For those not familiar with Southern California, Los Angeles, the city, is the center of the huge SoCal metro region of over 13 million people, 18 million people if you include San Diego and thedesert cities.  L.A. is the main city in Los Angeles county.  Right below L.A. county is Orange county, known for being a suburban and mellower than L.A., and, until, 2016, Orange County was a Republican stronghold in the Democratic state of California.  Newport Beach is the Beverly Hills of Orange County, that's where the concentration of the big money is.  In 2002, I somehow ended up living in the bushes next to the Newport Back Bay, in one of the wealthiest zip codes in the U.S., and working in the restaurant at Fashion Island (known as Fascist Island in punk circles), the outdoor mall that looked out over the Pacific ocean, on one side.  The mall was so rich, that there were "mall rats," people that hung out there every day, who were in their 50's, 60's, and 70's.  It was a really weird scene.

It took me nine months of living in the bushes, taking a bus to the mall, "showering" in the sink at the bus stop restroom, and working at Stone Creek Cafe, to save up enough money to get my license back, and my taxi permit, and go back to taxi driving.  I started driving a cab again on Labor Day weekend 2003, and for the next two years, my life was about nothing but money.  I didn't do anything creative.  I didn't ride my BMX bike.  I had no life outside taxi driving. 

I only had 5 complete days off in those two years from August 2003 to 2005.  I worked 7 days a week, 15 to 18 hours most days, and slept in my taxi in parking lots six nights a week.  I took showers at the gym most days.  Technology had changed the taxi industry, and I was just struggling to pay my $600 a week, to lease the taxi, and $300 in gas, and then make a little for myself. For those two years, my "day off" was working from about 7 am to 3 pm in the taxi, then getting a cheap motel room, a $6 pizza, a bottle of Diet Coke, watching a couple hours of TV, and sleeping for ten hours.

By August of 2005, I was 374 pounds, bitter, pissed off, burned out, and struggling to find a way to escape the taxi lifestyle and make a living some other way.  That's when fellow taxi driver, Richard Johnson, made me an offer I couldn't refuse.  Richard is one of the craziest characters I've ever met, and I mean that in a good way.  He owned his taxi, the actual car, and worked within the same company I did.  That meant he "only" paid the taxi company about $335 a week, but he had to pay to maintain his cab.  He liked to work days, mostly driving old ladies to doctor's appointments, and that kind of thing.  He rented his taxi out to another driver at night, and that paid most of what he owed the company every week.  So his taxi life was much less stressful than mine.  It also meant he could hang out in the small industrial unit where he owned the AAA Electra Art Gallery (& Museum) at night.  In fact, Richard and his girlfriend Michelle lived there.  But Richard's mom's health was getting worse.  Richard and Michelle moved into her condo nearby.  I had rented a wall at the gallery earlier, in 1999 and early 2000, at the previous location.  Richard and I became friends, and shared jokes and crazy taxi stories when we ran into each other while driving.

So I came to mind when he needed a new weekend driver, AND someone to live in the gallery.  The deal was, I would drive pay Richard $270 for his taxi, and drive it from 4 pm on Friday afternoon to 4 am Monday morning.  I was a night an weekend driver, specializing in driving Orange County drunks home night after night.  I usually made $200 to $250 each night, on Fridays and Saturdays.  So $270 for 2 1/2 days, and having 4 1/2 days off, was a good deal for me.  The other part of the deal was, I could live in the gallery in Anaheim during the week, and I'd pay Richard $50 a week for that.  At heart, I was a creative guy.  But for two years, 2003 to 2005, I completely set my creativity aside to focus entirely on making money, to dig myself out of a financial hole, and get back on track.  Instead I wound up fat, pissed off, and burned out. 

I took the deal.  That particular weekend, Richard had planned to take Michelle on a trip to New Orleans.  So I got his taxi to drive a few extra days, while they were gone, as a bonus.  I moved into the gallery on Wednesday, August 24th, and drove Richard and Michelle to the airport.  They flew to Chicago, planning to catch a flight to  New Orleans for a fin weekend.  But Hurricane Katrina had other plans.  So the two of them wound up having a long weekend in Chicago as they watched Katrina annihilate New Orleans and the Gulf Coast on TV.  I drove his taxi that weekend, and slept on one of the couches lining the walls of the gallery.

As he was driving me to the gallery that Wednesday, after dropping off my leased cab, Richard asked, "By the way, do you like cats?"  He made sure not to mention it beforehand, until I was committed to the move.
"Yeah, I guess," I said, "Do you have a cat at the gallery?" I asked.
"Yeah," he replied calmly, Well... technically... eight."  That's classic Richard Johnson.  The lifelong taxi driver in him is a shyster at heart.  He likes to get the best of you in some way, even if it only means something like charging you a dollar to hear the story of why there's a back door from a taxi in his section at the gallery. 
"Wait, what?  NINE cats?"
"Yeah.  We've had Pita for a year or so.  Then this other female cat started showing up, we called her Pita's Assistant, or P.A..  And P.A. just had a litter of six kittens.  So technically, there's eight cats.  We haven't seen Pita in a couple days, though."

So that's how I came to live in an indie art gallery in Anaheim, California with eight, actually seven, cats.  P.A. ran Pita off after she had her litter, so Pita never came back.  Being fairly streetwise, we assumed Pita found a nice home somewhere in Anaheim.  P.A. and her kittens were in a box, in a corner by the glass display cases.  I slept on one of the couches across the width of the industrial unit, about twenty feet away.  P.A. and I became friends over the first couple of days.  But the six kittens were only about three weeks old, and barely left the box at first.  It took about 2 or three weeks until the kittens started waking up and going exploring around the gallery in the mornings.  That included climbing up, on, and around me, and the couch I was sleeping on.  From then on, for maybe a month and a half, until we sold the kittens, they would climb all over me every morning and wake me up.  Nothing like a tiny claw to the nose, ear, or eyelid to startle the fuck out of me in the morning.

After two years of nothing but working around the clock, focused entirely on money, I was suddenly sleeping as much as I wanted (well, almost), I had a place to chill out, a refrigerator, a microwave, and crappy TV, a place to make art, and was woke up by marauding kittens every morning, and was surrounded by walls full of independent art.  It was a pretty cool way to live, actually. 

Kieran Woolley's "Opera" segment

I never heard of him before today, which doesn't mean much.  But this is a really cool skate segment, so check it out.   I do most of my...