Oracle and Archivist of Temple of the Atomic Light

Grimoire's space for silly little things and Wasteland Weekend stuff in an isolated corner of social media.

[oracle-grimoire-thearchivist]

Wasteland Weekend 2021, after Covid 19.

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[oracle-grimoire-thearchivist]

Wasteland Weekend 2021, after Covid 19.

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[oracle-grimoire-thearchivist]

Wasteland Weekend 2021, after Covid 19.

Will talk more later about this.

[oracle-grimoire-thearchivist]

Wasteland Weekend 2019, the aftermath.

After Brahmin Burger exploded, and I was determined to still get back to the theme zone, I had to start from the ground up. As my third year there, I had a better idea of what people were using for structures, and I was trying to be mindful of my limited physical ability. I had gotten a bunch of shade netting (in black--big mistake, don't do this), and a mister, two very nice yeti coolers, two cots, (a basic kitchen set up), and some shepherd hooks. I collected beer bottles and glass jars of yogurt to make some light fixtures that felt Fallout-y. I frosted all of them to help with light diffusion (and tucked in coffee filters in the jars) and viola.

These were the *only* pictures I took the entire event. I was hella depressed, exhausted, and inconsolable, so I had us pack up and leave on Saturday early. I have very little memory of this event, actually. I had wanted to do the swimsuit contest, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I don't think I went to any events, I didn't do any dancing. I wish I had more to say, but it was a bad year. Probably a waste of a ticket.

[oracle-grimoire-thearchivist]

Wasteland Weekend 2018, with Swim Suit Contest

Photog: Thomas Kerns, and Unknown, but it was pre-event in the dome behind the Deez.

So while Brahmin Burger was making greasy splashes with hungover and drunk crowd, I actually spent the majority of the event being heat intolerant. As soon as the temperature climbed, I couldn't stay awake. I felt nauseated and was dehydrated every day. I don't remember doing any events or being active during the day. I tried making up for it at night, but Wasteland at night is a different beast from Wasteland at day, so I missed half the event. I did do the swimsuit contest, and it was my last time doing it because the magic was gone. I did not feel like a powerful, beautiful creature at all. My intent had been something inspired by Immortan Joe's wives, so I repurposed another bedsheet, some gauzy fabric, rope, and tried to go for something that was all natural fibers in appearance. I even stained my cover-up towel. In 2017, my little runway sashay was all about Fat Chance Belly Dance moves and poses. In 2018, I wanted to do a little strip tease with dropping my hair and flashing the audience. I lost one of the two hairsticks I bought for this gimmick and felt quite unappreciated for my efforts (not that I expected to place, but I guess how gross I felt came across to the audience and there were not as many cheers). There were also a lot less pictures that had me in them by chance, which did not help my feelings after the event.

[oracle-grimoire-thearchivist]

Wasteland Weekend 2018, Brahmin Burger in Barter Town.

Bartertown Photag: Doctor Something (I think, need to double check.)

Ah, once again a backstory, and once more, the execution was leaving much to be desired. As I'm posting reliving these years, I'm slowly realizing how truly awful and shitty my time was spent? Like remembering my hopes and dreams for Wasteland and how badly they were fumbled and not realized makes me queasy. Like I can tell I'm struggling to be vulnerable and authentic about the experiences while also maintaining a degree of impartiality, I'm jaded and bitter af. Anyways, Brahmin Burger, a fast food joint I wanted to be Fallout-inspired, was placed in Bartertown because the assignment was once more, not understood. Truthfully, had no issue being in Bartertown and following both food safety and fire-prevention. I had issue with the lack of attempt at working toward a themed space. I guess that's what you get for working with a spoiled unoriginal theater-kid drop-out and a talentless sterile pedestrian. (I did say I was bitter.) That said, Brahmin Burger was a hit, everyone loved the food (we had a few repeat customers), and I felt good doing something/providing something for Wasteland. Even if I felt we were an ugly eye-sore in the middle of Bartertown, we had had a little impact and I was happy. Not proud, but happy. Brahmin Burger was my baby, I funded the damn thing, and it looked like it would continue to grow. Unfortunately, it would not survive infancy. (And neither would the equipment I bought.)

[oracle-grimoire-thearchivist]

Brahmin Burger est. 2018, off season.

So one night in 2017, as I hung out with my partner as he had shop duty, some very drunk people came on by and read the sign on our shopping cart that said something like "All meat treated with Rad-Away." Their response to it was asking if that was true/what they would have given for a greasy burger right then and there. And so, Brahmin Burger was born. We decided the following year we'd become food vendors. With my inheritance from my mom's passing and my partner's fast food experience/business acumen, we began to put together essentially a pop-up burger food stand. That included creating a whole new set up, getting some quite expensive equipment, and making a new shop stand (new, because we [read: my partner] decided to scrap all that wood we bought, yes, even our original wooden structure, to build it "better" the following year since it "broke" and was not worth the repair). (Plot twist: that did not happen.) Because my inheritance was going toward funding this venture, I didn't have a whole lot of vision for aesthetic other than, "I'm making a new sign and I want the stand to be more fallout like with swinging doors and chicken wire... and chalk paint!"

Additionally, bounty hunting was sourcing out photographs this year so my friend and I did an impromptu little shoot by her apartment and I tried to "best represent" my budding Wasteland persona and lean extra hard into the Children of Atom aesthetic.

[oracle-grimoire-thearchivist]

Wasteland Weekend 2017, Swimsuit Contest.

Photogs: Bane Grimm, Thomas Kerns, Mark Matcho, Gabriel Peltz

More shots from the contest. I often say I peaked at Wasteland 2017, and it has been downhill ever since. I kept the top for a very long time, hoping someone else would want it and I could barter it away. It unfortunately was lost in the moldening part 2 of this year.

[oracle-grimoire-thearchivist]

Wasteland Weekend 2017, Swimsuit Contest.

Photogs: quirky_mel, Geri Kramer, and unknown.

There's background here. Stupid background. Stupid background aside, this was the year I really put myself out there because I felt like I needed to make some sort of statement. Swimsuit was a repurposed old bra that I glued seaglass (that I made) to, and the bottoms were repurposed from an old bed sheet. Got myself a bit of netting, some glass fish floats, and made shell jewelry to wear. It was very pretty-thing-caught-in-a-net vibe. I felt hot and powerful. And I also wore synthetic hair extensions from Diva Dreads, which contributed to the hot and powerful, and beautiful feelings, but I was a very willfully ignorant white person. Happy to have supported a Black business, did not listen to my inner voice that told me, "I know you think they're so pretty, and you've always admired them like crazy, but we've been told countless times, this is not a hairstyle for us." And then I proceeded to buy from them multiple times, several hundred dollars worth, but I don't wear them now. I have been chasing the high of hair extensions to wear in the desert ever since because my personality *needs* big hair. My thin hair only gives me a small wimpy braid, and as a fat person, I want big hair to make myself feel better. Sorry, got a little off topic there. Anyways, didn't place in the contest, but it was the one year I got more pictures of myself by random people than I ever had at any other event I've ever attended. I also slipped up there on the Deez Stage, but recovered. Scary 50 seconds though.

[oracle-grimoire-thearchivist]

Wasteland Weekend 2017.

"Themed" placement (but no one else in the group understood this assignment so I don't consider it to be accurate) in Sanctuary Hills. Leader of the guard bestowed the name "Trespass" to me. Had an otherwise magical time and took no pictures. That's not true, I took pictures of people at the All Bodies Photo...booth? But not anything for camp or of myself. The general shop booth had one (1) picture taken.

Feat. quirky_mel as photographer.

[oracle-grimoire-thearchivist]

2017, Wasteland Weekend 2017 camp build for Cult of the Glowing [Pack] Brahmin. (Spoiler: that structure never returned. Cool in theory, heart in the right place, *okay* build, awful execution.) Not pictured: General Shop Stand and Camp Sign.

[oracle-grimoire-thearchivist]

Wastelander's Ball 2017, my first WW Inc event.

So not only was this my first Wasteland World Inc. event, but it was Wasteland World's first ball. I know the vibe I was going with was some kind of radiation goddess. Thrifted a wedding dress, added panels to it to fit me better, and had zero knowledge/technique on how to distress things. I wanted to be pretty, but I wanted to also look like I waded through a bloodied war field. Execution was not great. I tried tea staining, didn't take well, I did not have high hopes for dying the synthetic so I used watered down acrylic to get the red in. I was very pleased with the head piece I made. I converted wooden dowels into hair sticks, tried to form air dry clay over them to look like bone, and embedded chains in the bone clay. Then I painted it ivory and clear coated it. It was heavy, and needs thicker hair or some sort of support for it, but I was so proud and pleased with it. I was actively and deep into my Fat Chance Belly Dance classes so I did a lot of "dance" poses that I thought looked dynamic and pretty. My partner at the time made a comment about it (a "why do you keep posing like that?" as if he wanted me to pose like a normal person next to him) and it got way under my skin. It still leaves a very bitter taste in my mouth. Honestly, we should never have gotten together. Currently, that dress is in a WWII military trunk, I had tried making it dirtier for Wasteland Weekend by literally smashing it into dirt, but real dirt is texture nightmare for me. A part of me wants to come back to this dress snd update it with the techniques I've since learned, but.... also it carries such bad memories? Even if I felt beautiful and loved my make up. Maybe we could find a mannequin and have it wear the dress at camp. That might be a good "funeral" for it.

[oracle-grimoire-thearchivist]

Greetings and salutations to, mostly, myself as this is just my space for my passion project where I'm not emphasizing "in character" writing, my group, or specifically curated projects. I guess my own little museum? A place to archive as long as tumblr exists. Yeah. Something of that nature.