FLORA | | FAUNA The Rebellious West

S U O I THE BEL L WEST E R FLORA

||

SPRING

FAUNA 2 017

Energy, 2017

2

C O N TE N T Note from the Editor: The Rebellious West 4 Local Shop Highlight: Queen City General Store 6 FLORA || FAUNA Feature: “The Great American West” 14 A Closer Look at Globeville: Fort Greene Bar 56 Nomad in the City A Concert at the Gothic 64 Editor’s Opinion: Navajo Nation 72

VOLUME 2 ISSUE 1

Listen to this issue’s podcast, hear the playlists and see additional film at: www.carleehenderson.com Collaborate with us!

Follow FLORA || FAUNA on Instagram: __flora_fauna__ Like us on Facebook: @florafaunamag © All rights reserved. FLORA || FAUNA is a Denver based zine publication highlighting local artists, entrepreneurs, businesses and the like. All material in FLORA || FAUNA may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form without the consent of FLORA || FAUNA Editor-in-Chief Carlee Henderson.

Cover Photo by Grace Wood, 2017

Inquiries: carleeah718@gmail.com www.carleehenderson.com

3

A NOTE FROM THE EDITOR.

REBEL noun /reb·el/ (of a person) one or many who resists authority, control, or convention.

Everyone has heard of a mid-life crisis, but few care to face the inauspicious quarter-life crisis. Perhaps because it’s only become more common in the millennial generation, given all of the pressure and expectations set for both men and women in their 20s. Pressure from every angle; a career being the most demanding, as a formal education is presumed for said path of “success.”

But what defines success?

The word itself is a loose term, and a rather misconstrued concept. A flux is occurring in Denver of millennials from both sides of the spectrum. Half of us are trying to adapt to said expectations set before us, while the other half are running away from its mask of idealized happiness. I’m one of many who are unfortunately stuck in the middle, being pulled in both directions. I feel the pressure some days more intensely than others; going back for a Master’s degree, becoming rich, buying a big house to put stuff in... Then other days I’m very content with the simplest things: a roof over my head, air in my lungs, my cat... So easily we forget in this day and age how incredible life’s simple pleasures are.

It’s something of a trend I’ve noticed over the last three years of living here that many people my age are rebelling against the way our nation is living. The sense of rebellion is alive and vibrating through Denver and into the mountains, where I see young people fleeing and sometimes planning to never return to society’s set standards.

I thought it was at first just that, a trend. Something that will eventually fade. That conformity will ultimately conquer. But history has shown great examples of rebellion against capitalism and politics. So I think culturally, right now, this rebellion might actually be staying put.

Music is also relating back to times of when the Byrds and Bob Dylan were changing the way people thought about living. Small bands now are reiterating deeper topics like freedom, acceptance of self, the idea of peace and living within your means, and not having to keep up with Joneses.

During this time of internet culture, I feel we’ve all fallen into a trance. I know I’ve caught myself on occasion. A feeling of conformity, envy, and hope to obtain great riches that I don’t even really want. Money will never go away. But do know that you have a choice. Don’t live in fear of pursuing passions or skills because you think it won’t make you super rich. Is conforming worth sacrificing your happiness?

Many people who have moved to Denver have made that rebellious choice and are artisans in their own right. I’ve met musicians, jewelry designers, woodworkers, nature photographers, small business owners; all people who believe in the higher power of quality over quantity and not trying to please the masses and make a quick buck. They’re doing exactly what they want to do, and don’t care what other people think. That alone IS the rebellion, because they’re happy doing what they love. Success and well-being come in many different forms and meanings.

I hope you find your own.

To your happiness,

4

Carlee

Portrait by Grace Wood, 2017

5

F LO R A | | FAU N A

LOCAL SHOP HIGHLIGHT

Owner: Olivia Meininger Location: 220 E 13th Ave, Denver 80206 Instagram: @queencitygeneralstore www.queencitygeneralstore.com

As a city dweller, I use 13th almost every day at some point. It’s a bustling road filled with shops and homes that cuts right through downtown.

With that being said, if you didn’t know about this shop, you’d miss it.

Perhaps a hidden gem in the most obvious of places?

The first time I walked in, Edge of Seventeen immediately started playing in my head. I felt my Stevie gene flutter. The shop is curated perfectly with glittering crystals, shelves full of succulents, and unique vintage clothing hung gracefully. The decor didn’t stop on the floor.

Taxidermy and installations climb the walls. As I perused through the shop, touching nearly everything, I couldn’t help but notice that the store was following a cohesive theme. A whimsical western dream set in an urban location. Bright and airy, the storefront holds a wall of windows, while the back of the shop is dark with black walls and a live studio workshop.

The store itself invigorates all senses and offers a multitude of elements for a flower-child-western-rock lifestyle. Those words may not always seem to go together, but the owner Olivia Meininger makes it seem effortless.

I met with her to talk shop.

6

7

8

FLORA || FAUNA: Your shop is so beautiful!

When did you open?

Olivia:

Thank you; a year ago.

How did you get started?

My background is in fashion design actually. I always wanted a space that celebrated rad things that other makers make, that come from nature, and also be able to create things in house. We have an in-house studio where we can make things; a place for people to come and feel inspired.

What are you inspired by?

Nature, plant life, plant medicine, rock and roll (a lot), vintage clothing, embroidery, lace, really obsessed with details in clothing.

Things that are beautiful, really.

The studio you mentioned, what kind of things do you make?

We make whatever we have time for.

The goal was to get the shop established and running which it basically is now so that we can move on to making things. We just got a free-hand chain stitch machine (a really old embroidery machine) so we can offer custom patches and stuff.

We make clothes. I make a lot of beading.

The sky’s the limit.

9

10

11

I see many vintage pieces against the wall. Where do you find the clothing you choose to sell in your store?

I find them all over the place, all the time. But not only is vintage amazing and more well made than fast fashion but it’s also imperitave to the world right now that we think about fast fashion.

Vintage is really good for the environment, so we definitely support that.

We also carry brands that are ethically made and well made in small batches. The lingerie we sell is awesome and we also carry a company called Velvet Cape that is one girl and her grandmother that sew everything in England. She’s rad.

But yes, just being conscious of where the things you own come from and how long you plan to own them. Like I said, fast fashion... When you buy a $7 shirt at Forever 21 and wear it once, that’s terrible for the world. Just trying to do our tiny part to combat it. //

12

13

A

FLORA || FAUNA

FEATURE

THE GREAT AMERICAN WEST written and photographed by carlee henderson styled by grace wood @gracieandthevalentines

A trip around America’s Four Corners admiring Mother Nature’s best work that ended with the question: "What the hell are we doing with our lives?”

We Were Here, 2017

Previous page: Horseback Ride in the Valley, 2017

Part One Arches National Park Moab, Utah

18

For Ansel, 2017

19

“A great photograph is a full expression of what one feels about what is being photographed in the deepest sense, and is, thereby, a true expression of what one feels about life in its entirety.�

- Ansel Adams

Untitled, 2017

I’ve never been to the Southwest.

Since moving to Denver three years ago, my mind wandered with curious thoughts. Being from the Midwest, I’ve never experienced the desert or that way of living, but it fascinated me.

When I asked my friend Gracie about going on a road trip around the Four Corners, she immediately started searching for an AirBnB in Monument Valley.

I guessed that was a ‘yes’.

I asked Gracie to for a few reasons: she’s a creative, she’s a deep thinker, and she’s hilarious. As I’m telling her some ideas about the drive down, she lights up and turned her laptop toward me.

On her screen is a traditional hogan on Navajo lands four miles west of the buttes. These monuments are notably recognized when referred to Monument Valley... Or, the scene in Forrest Gump when he has a crazy beard running down a long highway and finally decides to stop “runn-aying”. I’m rather taken aback... A hogan is essentially a mud hut. What is it doing on an AirBnB site? I mean, it looks... rough. But also beautiful because of its traditional ceremonial history, if you can get on my level. The host’s name is Lawrence, a Navajo man who happened to be a famous ceramics artist. Bewildered but incredibly curious, we booked the god damn hogan.

I told Gracie that if we were to really make a road trip to the deepest parts of America’s desert lands, that we should completely immerse ourselves with our clothing, living arrangements and cultural education. Well, with the living arrangements out of they way, we spent time before our travels picking out outfits specifically for the landscape we’d be staying in. We were inspired by the 70s as well as vintage western apparel. What’s great about Gracie is her style, a huge bonus to being her friend is playing dress up. Boring to many, yes, but exciting to us. Leather and denim are matched with soft ruffled shirts and silk neck ties. Cowboy boots & turquoise rings on every finger.

Why not, right?

22

Three’s Company, 2017

23

Cave, 2017

24

Dead Tree, 2017

25

We left Denver on a warm Monday morning around 6AM. It was still dark and the roads were clear.

I repeat, the roads were clear.

(A rare occurrence here nowadays.)

We made our way straight west and caught the pink and purple sunrise in the rear view mirror as we reached the foothills. I still smile when I drive through the Rocky Mountains, the beauty and size never gets old. We made our way to the first stop, Arches National Park in Moab, Utah. Even though Arches is nothing but red rock with alien looking buttes and bluffs, you can still see the great snow capped Rockies vividly from every angle. A stark geographical contrast.

I quickly understood the reason for the park’s name. We hiked by large... arched... rocks, looking as if they’ll collapse and crumble at any moment. But they stood strong; delicate, yet proud.

We spent a few hours in the park, had lunch and continued on. Thankfully Arches was on the way, a win-win situation.

Monument Valley was the next stop, straight south through the Utah desert. We passed through small deserted towns and counties, and spent time showing each other our favorite old country artists. Johnny Cash and Emmylou Harris, Waylon Jennings and of course our savior, Dolly Parton.

A half hour before reaching the park, we passed by a small restaurant overlooking the San Juan River. It was beautiful but I wouldn’t have thought much of it until I saw a large sign that read,

NAVAJO

FRY

BREAD

“Gracie,” I said.

“Have you ever had fry bread?”

She hadn’t. We turned around.

You see, the thing with fry bread is the texture. It’s fried, obviously, but still light and airy. You can have it with savory dishes or by itself with honey. We chose the honey option and stared at each other eating our huge pieces of bread. I guess what I’m trying to say is that it’s absolutely delicious & highly recommended.

26

Delicate Arch, 2017

27

Pressure, 2017

28

Balanced Rock, 2017

29

Part Two Monument Valley Navajo Tribal Park; Oljato, Utah

30

Oljato, 2017

31

We arrived at sunset and caught an incredible show of bright orange terra-cotta gleaming in the sun’s last breath of the day. We followed directions and found the house with the cow skull hung at the end of the driveway. We met Lawrence and are showed to the hogan.

It’s in his front yard.

His yard is dirt.

The inside of the hogan was a surprising relief but still the bare bones.

Cement floors and curved logs are walls that make up the foundation of the space, accompanied by three beds, and two tables.

We had electricity and almost wanted to call it glamping, but we both knew that was still far from it. One table was designated for food and storage, while the other was set up as a vanity. It had a small mirror nailed to one of the logs on the wall, and a large bowl for a sink. No shower, though.

And don’t get me started on the outhouse.

It didn’t even have a door. ’Come on,’ I thought. ’A desert outhouse is bad enough.’

We settled in and unpacked two reclining lawn chairs Gracie somehow fit into her car. “I told you we would want these,” she said. She was right and proved my prior hesitation wrong. With no light pollution unlike Denver, we gazed at the huge sky full of bright constellations and shooting stars.

The next morning, we woke up early to watch the sunrise. It was still brisk from a typical desert night. It was easily one of the most beautiful sunrises I’ve seen, complete with the great monuments in the foreground. We spent the day meandering through the town of Oljato, taking photographs and spending too much time trying to find coffee. We finally gave up and settled for gas station brew.

We had made prior plans for a horseback ride around the valley that day at sunset. Our tour guide’s name was Darren, an artist and professional docent as well as a very knowledgable local.

It was complete luck to have met him because he knew the lands so well, which conveniently checked off my goal to learn as much as I could about the Navajo culture. As it was my first time riding a horse, I was thankful this was it.

32

In Motion, 2017

33

In the Valley, 2017

34

Leather Jacket in the Dirt, 2017

35

Saddles, 2017

36

37

Horses, 2017

Darren picked us up in the late afternoon and drove us to a small stable in the park. I realized it was going to be just the three of us. Excellent. My horse was a gentle giant, a thoroughbred named Sideburns. I don’t know who would name such a beautiful creature a creepy name like that, but I digress. Darren picked him because he’s best for beginners. Since Gracie has been around horses her whole life, her horse was a more advanced Arabian. Darren’s was a mustang and mentioned a couple generations before his were wild.

We started our ride and explored the entire valley without seeing another soul for the entire two hours. It was 75 degrees and sunny without a cloud in the sky.

Darren gave us a great history lesson about the lands and many Navajo traditions, that the Navajo were a peaceful tribe, and that hogans have two different meanings. The one we were staying in was a female hogan, built to resemble a womb with a nine pillar foundation to represent the nine months of pregnancy. They also have an open hole at the top for fires, meant for ceremonies, meditational practices, etc.

Male hogans are more dome shaped and quicker to build when on the move.

As we listened to Darren’s stories, we climbed a ridge close to one of the monuments as the sun was setting. For my first time, I was quite surprised with my ability to not A) fall off, or B) get buckedb off. After the grand tour, Darren drove us back to our home sweet home and we thanked him for an incredible experience.

38

Untitled by Darren Oliver, 2017

Instagram: @darrenjoliver

39

Part Three Canyon de Chelly National Monument Chinle, Arizona

40

White House Ruins, 2017

41

Driving through Round Rock, 2017

42

Arid, 2017

43

Round Rock Mesa, 2017

44

The Drive to Chinle, 2017

45

Desert Roundabout, 2017

46

Wednesday morning greeted us with another incredible sunrise. Lawrence had told us the local Navajo flea market was going on thirty minutes away in a town called Kayenta.

Music to our ears.

We packed up and went on a day trip to the market and onto our third national park, Canyon de Chelly. The market was a success, acquiring Navajo pottery and traditional blankets. Canyon de Chelly was an hour southeast in Chinle, Arizona. The park is best known for its cave dwellings and ruins. The park is also located on Navajo Nation Reservation lands and the ruins were built by the Anasazi people, Navajo for, “the Ancient ones.�

We stopped at various outlooks and marveled at its grandeur. We left and had a late lunch near the park as we headed back to Oljato. Another evening was spent under the stars enjoying our last desert night.

The next day, we said our goodbyes to Lawrence and drove north. We stopped at the infamous Four Corners Monument, which marks the quadripoint where Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico, and Utah meet.

One of our favorite stops was further northeast in Cortez, Colorado, where we found a street lined with amazing thrift stores that offered all things Southwestern. We found wool rugs, horseshoes, pottery and even cow skulls.

One last accomplishment in the desert.

47

Canyon Overlook, 2017

48

Ghost River, 2017

49

Part Four The Journey Home Rte. 160, Colorado

50

Four Corners, 2017

51

Early Morning Snowfall, 2017

52

Quiet Forest, 2017

53

Gracie had made reservations in Pagosa Springs, Colorado to stay at the Hot Springs resort and spa, a good idea after staying three days in the desert with no real bathroom or privacy. We welcomed our two queen size beds and plush bathrobes as well as a beautiful view of the 23 mineral pools terraced on the banks of the San Juan River.

Friday morning marked the end of our adventure as we trailed back to the Mile High city.

We made our way through snowy mountains that eventually melted as we passed the Great Sand Dunes National Park and onward.

Once I was home, I fell onto my couch and looked around in silence. Exhausted but serene, I had to ask myself ‘Was it a dream?’ I unpacked all of my treasures and found each piece a home. The last thing was the cow skull. I stared at it, it stared back at me. I walked into the kitchen and slowly peaked back into the living room.

Could it see me?

I saged the shit out of it and was surprised the smoke detector didn’t go off. I hung it on the wall. So, now I have a cow skull on my wall. Cool.

The next morning I was editing photos and looked up. Over my bookshelf is a black and white photo of the White House Ruins by photographer Ansel Adams. I noticed I had taken the same photo in the exact place and angle.

Adams was the first photographer I learned about growing up. It was a surreal feeling to know I was in the same location as one of the greats and appreciated the same view. I hope that for everyone, whatever view, they’re able to grow a little more, become more humbled, kinder, gentler, and for God’s sake, funnier. //

54

Fog on the Mountain, 2017

55

A Closer Look AtGlobeville THE LAST NEIGHBORHOOD REBELLION

Written and Photographed by Carlee Henderson Location: Fort Greene Bar 321 E 45th Ave, Denver 80216 Instagram: @ftgreenebar www.fortgreenedenver.com

A few months ago, my friend Jill and her husband Ryan, owners of Valentich Bags (@valentichbags), were asked to be a part of a pop up event in Globeville at a newer business called Fort Greene Bar. I’d never heard of it, and even though I feel very comfortable getting around my city, I had to pull out Google Maps.

As I drove up the night of the event, I was confused and thought I was at the wrong place. It was a quiet neighborhood near I-70 and Washington. A dog was barking in the distance when I got out of my car but didn’t see anyone out walking. Chain-linked fences lined both sides of the street and small homes with no lights on faced each other. Where was I? I called Jill and no answer.

Suddenly, someone opened a door to a small building up the street and a roar of music and loud conversation cut through the silence.

It was a hipster.

I’d never been so happy to see one. As I ran up, the happiness faded as he didn’t make any eye contact or say hello back as I approached. He didn’t hold the door for me, either. He was glued to his brand new iPhone while wearing a $2 thrift store T-shirt with a stain on it.

‘God damn millennial scum,’ I judged. (I’m 27.)

I opened the door to the red brick facade building and was surprised with the overwhelming beauty and warm ambiance the bar possessed, a stark contrast to its bleak exterior. The pop up event highlighted all local artists offering various handcrafted goods. I met my friend Jill and congratulated her on a successful event, and mentioned how much this bar reminded me of Williamsburg, Brooklyn.

She agreed. As I left, I also noticed another tall tale dive bar, Globe Hall, across the street. I’ve only heard great stories and rumors of its badass barbeque and live music venue.

Ever since I left, I kept thinking about that neighborhood.

Why was this hip, luxe, cool bar in the center of a quiet and neglected area of the city? Why’d they set up shop so far from “everything”? Since I’ve moved here, it’s been nothing but ‘upgrades here, construction there’. All over Denver, gentrification has been plowing through small and large neighborhoods; jacking up real estate, food costs and overall living wages. But then there’s Globeville, this untouched area that is almost closer to downtown than the “tres, tres cool” Lower Highlands (LoHi for us locals).

I had to investigate.

Apparently, Globeville was once a large and thriving residential neighborhood but was cut into quarters with the construction of I-25 and I-70. After the interstates came to be, the ‘hood was trapped with an industrial reputation. The decline on all fronts followed.

58

59

60

61

62

I went back recently on a warm spring day with a couple friends. “Welcome in!” said the bartender. “It’s happy hour! Here is a list of our cocktails that are $7. The beer isn’t on happy hour. Get a cocktail. They’re really good.”

My friends and I thanked her for the warm welcome and they looked over said cocktail menu. Every drink was an ornate mixture that only a skilled mixologist could’ve constructed. This was no ordinary dive bar. I immediately felt the Brooklyn, NY vibes as the small bar balanced bygone relics and plush green velvet sofas with exposed beams and wood floors.

The bar itself is broken up into separate rooms, which made sense when I read after the second visit the space was once a Slavic speakeasy. The stately, embellished bar is in the front room, then two smaller rooms adorned with similar plush vintage furniture are in the back quarters. A private outdoor patio also peaks out on the side.

Now that I’d seen it in the daylight, who it really was, it wasn’t as amazing as I’d remembered. I think it’s a space where it needs to be packed for it to be romantic and whimsical, dark and brooding, dramatic even. The more people, the more intimate the party. If you think about it, it makes sense. Right? It does.

Anyway, I noticed many flaws and details that were less than appealing... But it still had this alluring character that you were ‘OK’ with all of its imperfections and loved it anyway.

We sat outside until it got cold then left. After all was said and done, I wouldn’t go again unless an actual event was going on. Maybe it will continue to be a quiet area of the city...

Or maybe it will become hip to be so untouched? That the next trend will be a treasure hunt for all the “hidden gems”, Globeville being the big booty? //

63

y t i c e h t in Photography and Editing: Carlee Henderson @carleeah7 Model: Maria Blossom Cronin @mariabcronin Venue: Allah Las at The Gothic @allahlas

66

67

68

69

70

71

Go to www.carleehenderson.com to go behind-the-scenes and hear about this article’s production and meaning

T h e

n u m b e r s

g a m e

Navajo Nation Population: 173,667 “Poverty rate on Navajo Reservation Lands: 46.5% (compared to 15% nationally for Americans) Extreme poverty rate on Navajo Reservation Lands (less than $11,000 per year): 14.9% (family of four) On the Navajo Reservation, nearly 40 percent of homes are without electricity, indoor plumbing, adequate sewage disposal, complete kitchen facilities, or telephone service.

Fewer than 10% have internet service.

Only 25% Navajo people have at least a high school education.

The rate of violent crime on reservations is more than twice the national average. Gang violence is a huge issue on the Navajo Reservation, specifically.

The use of drugs, alcohol, and cigarettes on reservations is also higher than national averages.

The suicide rate among reservation residents is twice that of the general population, suggesting the troubling psychological impact of living in areas of extreme and concentrated poverty.

In fact, among the ages of 15 to 24, suicide is the leading cause of death.�

Navajo

Relief

Fund

www.nrfprograms.org