About 10 seconds after we drove through the gate off California Highway 20 a gang of about 8 costumed people greeted our car in the midst of a vibrant dance party. The language used there is purposeful. The dance was for us – us being me and my co-traveler, Thumbs (that’s correct) – but had we not arrived that evening… I’m very certain the dance party would have still been in the midst. Welcome to Cosmic Honey, where once you enter the gates off California Highway 20, you’re in it. “It” in this specific case refers to a Tiny House party, commemorating the arrival of new Cosmic Honey resident who moved her tiny house to the 400 acre grounds of Cosmic Honey the day prior. Everyone there made, and wore, Tiny Hats to mark occasion… and somehow none of the tiny, homemade hats fell off during the introductory dance party.
The sensations I felt in my chest as I watched these people converge on our car after 8 pleasant, quietly conversant hours of driving to this remote part of Northern California from Los Angeles never left me during my stay at Cosmic Honey. To set that up a little better… I really hate situations that force me to dance when I’m not really into the idea. And getting into the idea of dancing for me is pretty simple – minimum 3 drinks, and I’m usually good to go. But, the dancing was happening, NOW, and the earnestness, joy, and inclusiveness in the eyes of the converging revelers kind of predetermined that you were gonna dance your ass (at least a bit) once you got out of that car. So that’s what I did. Floppin my arms. And stumbling around on the dark gravel driveway, as my rickety, car-cramped muscles wondered “what the fuck?” And as much as I didn’t like that… that initial dance guided me to a newly erected, small-ish barn on the grounds, where there was a “Tiny Dance Party.” Before I knew it (or unpacked), I was indeed holding my 3rd drink, and very much dancing in this cramped metal shack like it was my idea.
I spent 3 and a half weeks like this at Cosmic Honey, a space that is owned by one of my best friends, Henry Riekena, and his wife, Liah Hansen, another wonderful friend. Years before acquiring the 400 acre plot of land (with a fucking mountain!) that became Cosmic Honey, Henry and Liah purchased, and renovated, a quintessential, Victorian style home in West Oakland (“The Unicorn Castle”) that they adapted into a community living space. Having forged an inclusive, shared culture at The Unicorn Castle, Henry and Liah also brought the same community-based, Bay Area culture ethos to Cosmic Honey. Prior to Covid-19, Cosmic Honey was becoming a hybrid space utilized by a growing contingent of Bay Area “members,” who, through a subscription-based model, were able to camp, create art projects, host events on the grounds, or follow up on flights of fancy too wild for the city. And very importantly, Cosmic was quickly becoming a hell of a spot for big, wild, weird events and parties.
As Covid swept through the U.S. in March, a core group of Cosmic members/subscribers decided to totally move their lives out to the Cosmic property for an unspecified amount of time. City life was (obviously) restrictive and isolating, and the Cosmic gang quickly realized that, even though Cosmic’s event hosting days would be on permanent hiatus, the land itself was ripe for a flurry of projects that would make the property both more user friendly for residents, and more experientially enriching for future visitors. This NOW environment consisting of a torrent of projects underway for both maximizing daily living, and with an eye towards development, is what I walked into when I exitedthe car during the Tiny House dance party. The NOW at Cosmic has absolutely nothing to do with the NOW in the city, as Cosmic Honey is a flurry of group activities - both work and play - coming at you at all hours of the day. There is no social distancing here (as residents are vetted prior to arrival), and there is very little time spent whiling away reminiscing, or spiraling into a nostalgia loop of what life was like pre-plague... Life at Cosmic is a day to day engagement of the person, or thing, right in front of you, and that is the gift and challenge it offers its residents. This broad intro is the first of 3, or 4, or more… blogs I will be writing about my 3 and a half weeks there… I am writing this first entry in a park in the Culver City zone of Los Angeles… with plans to potentially return to Cosmic in a couple weeks. I will keep the recap flowing over the next week or two with entries… which may continue into my return. Stay tuned…
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