Vacant and Beige

I'm standing in a strange, empty parking lot.

This lot, this whole area, isn't unique hereabouts. It's probably the third or fourth I've passed on the way back home from the Wichita Art Museum, and I finally decided to pull over and see what was going on.

These areas caught my eye not because they're actually vacant, in the sense of nothing being there. An expanse of zero anything — no buildings, no signs, no stoplights — in a city of over 300,000 people would be something special. Something very interesting.

What's interesting about this space, and the others like it, is how impressively uninteresting it is. It's vacant, not of stuff, but of personality. It's a hollow husk of a neighborhood. A beige piece of furniture you walk by every day, but never notice.

That is to say, there are buildings here. They're old-ish, but not in the fun, restored-hardwood-floors-and-original-brick-walls style that's been revitalizing downtowns and former meat-packing districts around the world for the past decade.

This is the sort of old that's more the result of shoddy, rushed construction than actual age. The architectural style could best be described as 'American 20th Century Underfunded and Unmaintained Clapboard and Cheap Brick.' There's no attempt at flair, no attempt for any particular building to stand out from its kin. There are none of the imposing-but-charming Brutalist structures that surround the Wichita Library-area on the outskirts of downtown.

No, the vacancy here stems from a lack of spirit, not building materials. There's also the lack of people, though the reason I pulled over was to check my guess that some of these places had to be occupied; had to be something other than derelict.

I walk a few blocks, peeking in windows and poking my head into alleys.

Nothing. No one.

Imagine one of those post-apocalyptic movies in which all the buildings are still standing, but all the people are gone. It's a bit like that. Except in those instances they typically go out of their way to ensure that everything appears clean and well-kept, to amplify the shock and contrast of a city containing no citizens.

Here you can find all the stuff, zero people, and what seems to be a lack of concern that all these space, these ugly buildings, these pothole-ridden parking lots, are just sitting here. Unused. Unloved. Unnoticed.

An empty space reeks of potential, but a filled space, badly utilized, makes it difficult to imagine such possibilities.

There's a lot of building going on here in Wichita, and from what I understand, the uber-conservative governor, Brownback, has lost a great number of his cronies in a recent local election.

The sad state of affairs when it comes to economics, education, employment, and just about everything else in Kansas is often tied to Brownback and his attempts to turn the state into a 'traditional values' utopia, that term coming tandem with such ideas as trickle-down economics, and other go-to's from the Reagan-era political playbook.

The repercussions of this choice, and a nearly unobstructed path toward making his every dream a reality, has taken a massive toll on Kansas, and Kansans.

These vacancies — those of real estate and those of population, and resultantly, culture, as people flee to less dystopian parts of the country — have led to these gaps in the city. Between the corporate neighborhoods housing Cessna and Boeing and Via Christia and Koch Industries, you'll find many places like this one: land and treasure, wasted and crumbling, because of a version of capitalism that gives the term a bad name.

There's still a lot of the city left to see, and I've already visited and driven by many parts of town that are the polar opposite of this: they are alive with people, flooded with magnetic culture. The possibilities are endless, and the people who are making these places tick are making those around them believe; this is bringing in investments beyond the huge multinationals, beyond the military contractors, and beyond the companies that can afford to buy up .01% of a sprawling city and allow it to just sit there; un-traversable spaces on the checkerboard that keep the locals moving in diagonal paths just to avoid them.

It's fun living in places that are already established — the New Yorks, the San Franciscos, the Los Angeleses of the world — but there's something immensely thrilling, to me, about living in a place where the best days are ahead.

And not far off in the distance, ahead: right around the corner. Changes in technology, changes in lawmaking, changes in overall national culture, slowly seeping into even the most remote hub — it can all be felt here. I've been in the city for all of two weeks, and I can feel that, already.

I'm looking forward to seeing what happens next: to the vacant, beige spaces, and to the city as a whole.

Some Things

I'm a little over two weeks into my life here in Wichita, and I'm finally beginning to catch my bearings.

What that means in practice is that I've allowed myself to slip into a comfortable rhythm, which includes a great deal of what I found myself missing these last few years on the road: repetition and predictability.

That's not to say I do exactly the same things every day, but I do know that I suddenly have plenty of time to exercise, and in a consistent space. I know that I have access to certain tools and resources. I know that I will have an apartment in which to sit, think, and be alone.

These are simple things that most people have and take for granted, but I haven't been able to for a good long while, so they're incredibly novel to me and I'm loving the hell out of them.

Here are updates on some of my projects.

1. Let's Know Things Podcast

I'm having so much fun with this.

It's been a blast learning about the business side of podcasting, and there are all kinds of opportunities and paths that I'm looking into and considering. It's also been wonderful slowly but surely iterating my production process and overall skill with the hardware and software involved in the production of the show.

But most of all I'm having a ball talking at length about things I think are interesting, to an audience who seems to agree.

A huge thanks to everyone who's listening to the show. If you haven't checked it out, consider looking it up wherever you get your podcasts (you can also find it via the show site, here, or iTunes, here). Also consider leaving a review or sharing it with a friend — that helps immensely.

You can sign up for the Let's Know Things newsletter, like it on Facebook, and follow it on Instagram.

2. Consider This

This project has also been a lot of fun, particularly lately, as I've been recalibrating my idea of what role each of these platforms plays in my life.

What I've found is that I enjoy doing shorter, more 'let's think about this one thing' videos on YouTube. As such, Consider This has moved in that direction. Let's Know Things is the larger, sprawling cousin, while essays in this newsletter and on Exile Lifestyle have leaned more toward 'here's a story about what's happening in my life and what I learned from it' types of writing.

All of these projects will continue to evolve, of course, but I do like where they're at, now. Which is good, because I'm here in Wichita in part to double-down on these and see how far I can take them.

You can find Consider This on YouTube, and you can also find it on Facebook and Instagram.

3. Cooking

One of the things I promised myself in making this move was that I would finally take the time to learn to cook. I've always appreciated and been fascinated by the craft, but have never been in a good spot to focus on it in the way that I like to when learning something new.

As of today, I've cooked all but two of the meals I've eaten while in Wichita. That means, as of yesterday, I've cooked about 36 meals. That's 30-something more than I've made in my entire life up till this point.

My philosophy on learning something like this — something as expansive as the idea of cooking — is to dig in and do it a lot. Over and over and over. I got some early advice on what simple equipment to acquire from my friend Marla, and from there I've just jumped in, allowing myself to make mistakes, and incentivizing myself to keep at it, regardless (mostly by not keeping any non-ingredient food around the apartment).

And it's working. I feel a lot more comfortable in a kitchen than ever before, and have even come up with a few of my own recipes (nothing fancy, but all based on skills I learned making other recipes, previously).

I still have an immense amount to learn, and am nowhere near being anyone's 'friend who cooks really well,' but I do shop for groceries a lot differently, now, and look forward to making my meals, rather than simply consuming them.

If you're thinking about doing something similar, I suggest looking up some fundamental information, acquiring a few very basic tools, and jumping in.

Outro

There are a lot of interesting opportunities on the horizon at the moment, but I'm enjoying the here and the now: good food, a cozy bed, lots of reading, and a somewhat repetitive structure that's calming after years of not having anything even close to predictable in my life.

I'd love to hear what you're working on, if you're keen to share. Shoot me an email and tell me a bit about yourself, where you're from, and what you're up to.

You can also find me online, via Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, Instagram, Snapchat, Periscope, and essentially everywhere else you might think to look.

Wichita is still hotter than hades, but I'm hopeful that we'll get a little more rainfall and a temperature drop sometime in the next few weeks. In the meantime, I'm grateful that my flat is air conditioned, and that the window blinds are thick!