In late summer/early fall, we told the owner of the building in no uncertain terms that if he was determined to keep us in this lease, we could pay him rent until our income-less bank account ran out and then we would promptly default.  He told us that he understood our situation, but still, he couldn’t just let us leave.  Shame on us for getting ourselves into this mess, and besides, it’s bad business on his part.  He told us he wanted to keep trying to find someone to take over our (single year left on the) lease.  He told us he would grant us a small boon: we could stop paying rent in the meantime.  This was upwards of five months ago.  No rent paid, but no lease dissolved either.  I wish I was kidding when I say that December rolled over into January, and we’re actually still waiting for this individual to tell us whether we’ve been absolved or whether we owe him $8500 + in back rent.

In what was admittedly not the most mature move, we then seized fall as an opportunity to rent out the space for private events so we could afford to pay our bills.  We hosted two or three gatherings, but I could never shake the feeling that they were just less lavish, less-awesome parties than ones we could have planned and executed ourselves.  I also got pretty worn down continually explaining to attendees why I had access to this seemly finished space, what the business was supposed to be about, and why we weren’t open legitimately.  Slowly, we quit paying the bills altogether, oddly not from lack of funds, but due to extraordinary amounts of apathy.

Speaking of extraordinary amounts of apathy, you can thank said apathy for this blog post.  Long ago, I used to self-censor a lot of of the issues we were having, in the off chance a certain person with a lease in his control  stumbled over this blog.  Hey, I know that nothing on the Internet is private.  But magically here I am, back and posting, party photos restored from “private” mode, and a reasonably straightforward account of what has occurred since May.

a Chris Van Allsburg classic. the balding man represents me, and the lump under the rug represents all things warehouse. obviously.

Well, all that’s depressing, and it’s winter again, so that’s bringdown city, too.  But wait!  Here’s the uplifting, self-reflective part.  “Learning moment” section of my résumé aside… I’ve found myself dipping into this strange, angsty well of adolescent activities.  In the backdraft of business maturity and organization, I’ve rekindled my passion for decorating and/or exploring things that aren’t mine.  And unlike my actual West-O adolescence, during which I was way too good of a kid to ever do anything but plot these things, I now have the monetary, logistical, and moral(!) resources to do it right (ok, “differently” not “better”).  I won’t lie, it’s been personally satisfying.  I also won’t go into details.  I still believe anyone that wants to know anything on the Internet should have to social-network this stuff together themselves.  But I will say this: watch out, Omaha: the internet is leaking.

So, what is business limbo like?

Sometimes, Dustin and I play phone tag with the nice folks down at the permits and inspections office.  We’re still trying to get a straight answer as to what needs to be done to get the building up to code for an occupancy permit.  Yes, it has been four months.  Seven if you count September through December, the period of time during which we thought someone was processing our forms and would get back to us.  In reality, it was the period of time in which our paperwork got shuffled into some unknown technological corner, and everyone in the office forgot we existed.

Other times, Dustin and I play email tag with the owner of the building.  For awhile, it was looking like some unknown individual was interested in taking over our lease.  This would solve the majority of our problems and allow us to move to someplace smaller, someplace that already has an occupancy permit.  In that situation, we could be up and running in a month.  Also, we would have a surplus of couches.  FYI, still no word on the Mysterious Interested Party.

On occasion, I go to the warehouse to check the mail, so we can pay our bills on time.  The last time I was rightly inside was either the time I needed a wrench, or the time I needed grab my big-girl stilettos, which I’d last worn back in November.

In conclusion, business limbo is a frustrating, weird place that I greatly dislike.  It’s depressing.  But hey, at least I’ve had a little time to take care of the Jen-half of life.  I got a new job, I moved into a new apartment, and hell, if this thing ever resolves itself, at least I can say I learned my lesson.  Empty warehouse ≠ run your business here.  At least, not easily.

We (really, really, really) hate to say it, but we need to go on hiatus.  The business is on hiatus.

Let us suffice to say it’s not you (that’s vous, the French you-plural, “you all”), it’s us.  We need to get some stuff in order.  We’re sorry we’re being vague.  And though it might seem like we’re about to disappear for good, we’ll be back.  We promise, we want this too much to just quit now.

Besides, we love you (again, vous) too much to really leave.

<3, Jen&Dustin

And what have we learned so far?  Way too much for me to post here, that’s for sure.  But that update – the legitimately informative one – IS on the way.  I promise.

*Winners probably shouldn’t be people I have already told about this (you know who you are), or the two discoverers of the errors (MattOne and MattTwo… you know you don’t really need the cider, anyway).

the traditional Festivus reindeer christmas tree man

Mother Nature crapped on our hearts a little with her icy, slightly apocalyptic weather, but a few brave souls threw caution to the wind and joined us for a wonderful evening of grievance airing, cider sipping, and feats of strength via Super Street Figher II on SNES.  Ted Potter and The Answer Team gave us some amazing holiday performances, and everyone went home with a gift from a stranger thanks to the Festivus random stuff exchange.

In terms of getting Axiom up and running for reals, Dustin and I have been a little thrown off by the past two blizzards, as well as planning for Festivus, and – let’s face it – a bit of slacking.  Due to all of this (and more!) we’re skipping First Friday in January and putting large events on hold. But it’s cool… we have seen the error of our ways, and armed with a giant calendar, technological planning applications, and self-imposed schedule of meetings and tasks, we’re going to try to get better at the logistical side of running this business.

January will be devoted to getting our website up, finishing those last bits of construction, plotting the next couple of months’ worth of First Fridays, setting up an amazing array of dance classes and artist renters, and generally making this business legit.  Call it an early New Year’s resolution.  And unlike my many other resolutions, I have a feeling this one will actually be accomplished.

In the meantime, as one last hurrah of event-related fun for this year, you are cordially invited to join us on New Year’s Eve, where we’ll be hosting an after party for the downtown dance crowd.  To clarify, this will be an after party in the sense that it is simply a party that happens after other parties, as opposed to some kind of “exclusive” continuation of a party happening at our own place.  In fact, I will probably be ringing in 2010 across the street at Goo, ’cause I dig the confetti and the giant white balloons.

We start at 1AM, when the other venues close, and we’ll be rockin it til 4AM.  Hopefully, Mother Nature backs off for this one.

darkwave disco, at their finest/most inebriated.

we run this ship.

RIGHT! Events.

Our first First Friday is coming up December 4th, from 7pm-11pm.  If you were at our inaugural event, you probably saw a little bit of Ashlynn and Walker’s work hanging on the walls.  It wasn’t for sale then, but it will be starting First Friday.  There will also be MORE pieces from each of them, in addition to prints at low low prices.  We’ll also be hosting some fabulous vendors, including clothing from Alexia of Autopilot Art, and on-the-spot henna tattoos from Melanie Harryman.  We’ve got a little live music in the works, as well as a few other surprises.  Come by… check out the art… meet us for real (we won’t be running around stressed out all night, we promise).

Finally, if you’ll be sticking around Omaha for the holidays, you are cordially invited to join us at Axiom Art&Dance’s official Festivus party, December 23rd.  We’re still planning this one, but here’s what we’ll be featuring thus far…

+ legit Festivus pole

+ Airing of the Grievances booth, manned by Dustin, me, and our grievance-certified Festivus staff

+ Feats of Strength videogame battles projected in the dance studio

+ random gift donation – give something you don’t want, get something random in return… surprise!

+ holiday photo booth, with props and cheer, locked down by Mr. Chris Couse

+ live Autopilot Art screen printing, for those extreme last-minute gifts

+ inappropriate holiday cookies and other fun snacks

+ the ultimate Festivus miracle: a mysterious TBA show in the works for 9pm and beyond.

And that’s that.  Now go be thankful for your family and friends by filling yourselves with foods!  Today is the day to find out just how much StoveTop stuffing you can eat (my limit is 2/3 of one batch, and I felt really uncomfortable for about two hours after).

That party was AMAZING.  For those not in attendance, our official Axiom photographer Mr. Chris Couse took a wonderful series of opening night photos, which can be found -HERE-… on our official Facebook group.  If you have not yet been converted into the Facebook cult (joooin ussss), here are a couple of my favorites…

On a side note, there was a little bit of mix-up when it came to the after party, especially regarding wristbands for gaining admittance into said after party.  I cannot stress enough that the after party was supposed to be a small friends-and-family type deal.  It was also supposed to be my 25th birthday party.  I don’t know how so many wristbands got handed out, but I heard the zombie apocalypse-style pounding on the front door when we didn’t let everyone with a wristband back in.  Here’s the deal – I’m sorry for the confusion.  I’m sorry if anyone got yelled at, shoved, or got excessively let down.  That was our bad, and it won’t happen again.  Next time, you’ll know you’re in, or you’ll know to go home.  I <3 all of you, and if you want to blame anyone for not being able to dance til 2:30AM, blame the city of Omaha and its absurdly early last call.

Business Lesson 1001: small business time is a lot like playa time; everything takes about ten times longer to accomplish than you think it will (or than it ought to, in a perfect world).  The only difference between playa time and small business time is that in the middle of the desert, the things, people, and institutions that come between first intention and final goal are ENTERTAINING.  Not to say trying to figure out which screwgun bit matches the square hole screws we bought on accident wasn’t at least a little bit fun.  Thanks again to Ryan for loaning us the 100 piece drill bit set.

***

NEW GOOD THINGS!

The fabulous gentlemen of 1/fourth are working with us to produce our first party: November 21st. 9PM. $10.

–FEATURING–

Music :: Darkwave Disco (Chicago)

Performance :: Mr Fantastic – Robert Muraine (LA)

Art :: live custom screen printing by Alexia Thiele of Autopilot Art (Omaha)

It’s a private party, so be sure to RSVP to the event on Facebook or join our group to get on the guest list.

***

We’re almost there. Bear with me… I’m skipping my birthday on the 10th to fully celebrate on the 21st.  It’s going to be one big grand opening holy crap I’m 25 FINALLY WE’RE OPEN let’s dance all night.  Really.  All night.  But that’s the “birthday party” part.  Shh.  You didn’t hear it from me.

We’ve been lucky enough to have a photographer on hand during this process, so that the masses can take a peek at what we’ve been up to.  Keep in mind this part of our warehouse was built in the early 1930′s.  We have the yellowed newspapers to prove it.  The dance studio is our first priority, and we’ve found we’ll really have to destroy it before we can rebuild.  Hit the fancy ‘more’ tag  for a visual rundown of the dance studio’s deconstruction, courtesy of the fantastic Bill Wendl (who gets dibs on a set of the LINWELD sign letters, since LINWELD is an anagram of I WENDL).

This is what a $1700 key looks like.

Last Thursday, we signed the lease… got the keys on Friday, and went exploring on Saturday.  Here is a list of things that came with the warehouse, in the order that we found them:

One bum (outside).

One coffee pot, still in its box.

A heavy, extendable shower curtain rod.

A plunger.

An old, faux -wood paneled radio.

One dead bird.

One green dome shaped awning that says “LINWELD.”

One deflated blue kick ball.

A giant pile of generic corporate art, including a photo of a baby seal above the text “SAVE ME,” and three actual paintings (two of landscapes, one of a row of buddha statues at night).

Two cans of Dad’s Old Fashioned Root Beer, dusty but unopened.

One full set of plastic meat locker curtains.

Two poster board presentations that looked like they were made by children, one about frostbite, the other about heatstroke.

One creepy bonus basement under a trap door in the dance studio (I’m going to go ahead and call it the Murder Room).  Pretty standard horror movie fare – low ceiling, heinously dirty floor, shadowy hints of forgotten objects.  The stairs to the MR were rickety; one was broken.  My friend Chris took some preview photos of the space before anyone went down there, just to check for… y’know… all the scary stuff that could possibly be in a secret basement under a trap door.  When we determined the coast was clear, I decided to go for it.  After all, it’s technically MY bonus basement now.  I took a moment to remind my posse that they could follow me if they wanted, but the warehouse does not yet have insurance (I think I said that a lot over the course of the exploration).  Here is a sub-list of things we found after decending into the MR:

One disconnected 1970′s-era water fountain.

A pile of large, unlabeled buckets.  Some were sealed, full of liquid.

One orange garden hose.

One flimsy looking hard hat.

Several giant light bulbs, no packaging… just the bulbs, laying fully intact on top of a small pile of debris.

One toilet, disconnected but dirty (possibly used).

One sink, also disconnected.

Six outdoor lounge chairs.

One empty, crushed can of off-brand energy drink.

And last (but certainly not least), in the farthest, darkest corner of the room, one old wooden chair, slightly broken, with a perfect spider web stretching from the back rest to the seat.

That's it, to time out with you!

So there you have it.  While I was there, I did some other general observations on the state of the place (which were mostly good).  I have total confidence we can get it where we want it functionally… maybe even aesthetically, if we get creative.  I’m hosting a walk through for interested renters on Wednesday, September 2nd at 6pm.  If you’re planning to join me, those two cans of root beer are totally still good, and totally up for grabs.