off the grid and outside the influence, the door-to-door sales folk don't really make it down to slab city. no one here was invited, yet no one gets turned away. it’s a kind of casual bermuda triangle of free spirits, eccentrics and mavericks. those that get lost here don’t care to be found. a scrap heap come sculpture garden, nothing goes to waste. old fridges become fences, and hubcaps are art. to some this is a wasteland, to others it’s an oasis. no cable tv or same-day delivery, no billboards or iphone charger cords - no worries, there’s no use for all that here anyway. the people of slab city are too busy with the freedom they’ve found here to think about what’s missing. you’ll see it when you believe it they reckon. beauty is abundant not in a bottle.