Maybe A Not So Typical Thanksgiving Post

Clothes on the Line, Backyard

I don’t have a bed. I sleep on the floor every night. I do this by choice. It’s plenty soft, carpet, a big thick sleeping bag under me and plenty of puffy covers over me, layered. Each night, almost every night lately, I write a couple poems and rip the page from the notebook for safe keeping, then drift off to sleep.

During the day, each day, I manage to read about the object of my mind’s latest focus-labor relations, especially related to a historic moment that took place here in Goldfield between miners and employers in 1906/07. Teddy Roosevelt sent in troops to break the strike.

There’s a drawing of the men involved in that political skirmish that I’m working on for a magazine cover. The magazine is a poetry and prose based anarchist publication out of Houston Texas. It’s called Harbinger Asylum. I’m drawing these portraits in detail on a large birch wood panel. It will go on to have painting around it and many more faces, mostly characters related to the Goldfield historic experience. This will be the cover for the issue featuring the article I’m writing for them about the labor strike.

I’m painting on canvas again lately. I had sort of taken some time off from that to work on the car forest, burying cars, publicizing the place and getting ready for the big party, which turned out to be a small party back in August. Life just always gets in the way. Things have settled a bit and a few days ago I set up my little painting studio in my shower, since my bathroom is not workable. It’s a good quiet place and it’s easy to heat.

View From Our Front Porch

I love painting oils so much and I seem to forget just how much until I start doing it again. The older I get the more often I remember how much I’m in control of my life, but it’s always taking the first step that’s most important. Distractions are constant; edging them out is difficult.

Harmonica is a new endeavor for me, since Zak has moved here; singing too. There’s alot to learn in any art and it’s that learning that keeps me going.

Radio DJing is a performance for me. I get to explore music but also my own performance with voice and content. I have always loved doing interviews and it feels good to have myself involved with this community in this way.

Our House is The End of the World

A couple days ago, a folder full of quickly shot off images from my social media, i.e. Facebook days took me on a trip down memory lane. The dates on each image relayed the moments in my life that served as backdrop. It’s gets me back in the mindset of fishbowling and how it was an art of its own. Up to the minute content, distributed widely is something substantial and the amount of self exposure was something useful to explore. I must get back to fishbowling some day.

The cheap camera I now own was a trade. My offer was a router that a friend of mine needed for making picture frames and wood creations. It has afforded me another creative outlet that I’ve long been exploring and that is the capture of light, photography. Shacks and buildings and mountains and joshua trees have been the main event there. To say it’s beautiful here doesn’t nearly say it. There’s an essence to living here and the feedback from my blog site has been fun.

2007, Hotel El Cortez, the first year of NadaDada in my room, drawing on wood

Today is Thanksgiving and I’ve had my phone conversations with family back home. Soon I go back to our firehouse to help with preparations for the Thanksgiving feast where we’ll feed the town.

Mom, Dad, brothers, I love you. You must have done something right because for my life, the perspectives I’ve been privy to, I’m thankful for them. I feel like a well adjusted person. I’m thankful for my interesting friends; you’ve kept my life colorful.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Turns Out, I’m not the Hero of Goldfield… not quite yet

54 photos of our End of the World and Goldfield Days, taken by Teresa Roberts. So, kick your shoes off and take a listen to tonight’s Audio Sorgfield episode #13 while enjoying.

I’ll paint a practical picture of what the End of the World Party was like.

As I’ve already been talking about in other blog posts, I was disappointed with the outcome. Not many people showed up; like 20 or so, to camp.

It rained and our bands were very disappointed, in fact, upset that they never got to play. A duo came to play that hailed all the way from San Francisco. We did get to burn our bus and I’ll tell you about that in a minute. A nudist with no belly button was here. A couple girls that we’d never met before came down from Reno. Their arrival, with others, was at about 2am. I walked all the way out to the bus with no shirt on to greet them. That must have seemed odd.

A very good friend who’s bound to a wheelchair showed up with another friend and his girlfriend; they were a lot of fun to hang out with and Zak and I were very happy to be able to accommodate. An archaeologist came from Idaho to stay for a night in her tent.
It was all so weird and almost dreamlike. Friends camped in the yard or in their cars in the driveway. Ms. Button took a bunch of pictures for us and we did sell a handful of T-shirts. A film maker friend stayed the weekend as well to document our party. A couple ghost hunter friends came down from Reno to visit as well.

Conversation hinged on UFO’s, mining, and the over-zealous local sheriff’s department who kept a close eye on us. The musicians sat in our covered patio and drank vodka, ate cheeseburgers from our grill and talked music.

At one point, a brand new white corvette came rolling out from our CarForest’s dusty roads. I went out to greet the driver who happened to be a guy who I’d heard of but never met before and involved with our local radio station. He flew out from Minnesota to be here and I enjoyed talking with him for a little bit. It was a rental car; we had figured that. A handful of friends showed up or rolled through. A gay couple from a neighboring ghost town swung by and I’m glad to have made their acquaintance. Goldfield will never be the same.

The town’s yearly festival, Goldfield Days, was going on this same weekend and I’m proud to say a lot of locals came out to see the CarForest. It was such moody weather that on the one hand, I was proud to show off Goldfield’s meteorological drama, but then again, the rain really put a damper on our party. The amps never came out of our big black Suburban which died on us on Saturday. Our school bus stage was never used.

I rented 3 port-a-potties for the weekend and one was used only once by a small child that showed up on Sunday with families of 4 wheeler fanatics from Southern California. It got me thinking, I believe we should buy one bathroom facility to have here permanently in the future.

I’m proud to say that articles were written in 2(!!) Vegas periodicals, Nevada Magazine’s website, local area newspapers, Reno News & Review and also multiple blogs online. We even have a production company from New York City that wants to make it out to see a bus burning and air it on a cable network! I’d have to say I’ve done my part for Goldfield, Nevada.

We got a ton of publicity all over the state and beyond. PR could not have been done any better, thank you very much. Of that, I’m very proud. That’s why it’s puzzling that the results were so lackluster. It’s a long way to Goldfield, I guess. Goldfield is famous now though.

The weirdest part was the days after the party. People are still showing up. We’ve opened up a floodgate of visitors! Just today, visitors from Massachusetts drove 4 hours, one way, out of their way to come down to Goldfield to see the Car Forest.

Around noon, I was sitting at the General Store and this great panoramic photographer that I know pulled up and said “Chad! We came to see the CarForest!” Vincent Cascio is his name and I can’t wait to share the digital vistas that he takes. (By the way, he’s looking for a Reno gallery to show in, hint hint..)

He said, he wanted to share the photos he takes in town with Goldfield’s Chamber of Commerce. “Oh great, Vince, we’d love them. I’m the President, actually.” It was a small town moment.

Torrential downpours came and having seen the End of the World signs still at the road, a mystical wanderer showed up at our doorstep. She just got out of the Goldfield jail and she had alien prophecies to share with us. She’s a shamanic healer, of sorts, and the most independent loner I’ve met in a long time.

The archaeologist talks of future wishes to base herself in Goldfield, by the way. We’d like that. She’s artsy and smart and cute. She enjoyed the rusted debris in our back yard and I can’t wait to hear what she says about the volcanic rock surrounding our home.

We had wanted to fill Goldfield Days with the campsters from our End of the World Party. We wanted to be heroes to the town. I have to realize, success is sometimes more obscured than we’d like. We did a very good thing. These writings help me digest it all.

In this melancholic, mystical, post-apocalyptic mood, I finished a parable I’d been working on for 6 months about a snake that rules the world through greed. It ends on a positive note. I recorded it last night for Episode 13 of my Audio Sorgfield. Every episode is unique and this one has a hero theme.

6 months of planning, promotion, and physical labor went in to the making of this party. I had vowed to stay in bed for 2 days after it was all over. Basically this whole week I’ve done that, save the couple times I took long walks up the surrounding hills to discover new terrain and old ruins. At night I’ve been able to enjoy the stars with a clear mind. I’m not even thinking about the next party yet.

Multiple times a day now we see people cruising up to look at the cars. The greatest accomplishment gained from throwing this party is that, now, a floodgate of visitors has opened up. I think it’s time to paint a big sign with a donation box and words saying “Buy a Car Forest T-Shirt downtown at the Goldfield Giftshop!”

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Wanna’ email me?

Lost Beyond the End of the World

To say I feel lost would be pretty accurate. Are we all lost? Is this a mood or a state?

End of the World and I don’t feel so fine. The party never got big but that’s that. I met a few amazing people and strengthened friendships with some others. I’m grateful they came but feel that we let them down.

I have to get in line with what needs done now. What do I need to do right now? Is this where I need to be? Has my purpose changed? Are we partners? Do I have teammates? I feel silly to have imagined so wrongly.

I thought this party could be huge. I thought 6 months of focused energy would pay off.  I thought we’d make a bundle of money. I thought we’d save our town. I thought we could be heroes. I thought our hero status would be apparent by now, this, the week after our big party.

Sure, we had a good time and we sold a handful of Tshirts. Money tends to elude me. Is this a kind of money karma? Has someone been done wrong? Am I paying for past failures or oversights? Am I not seeing the big picture? Am I missing something? Am I wrong for writing about these feelings right now? Is there some wisdom to be found here? Will I rise to a new level?

For an entire year I’ve kept positive and focused on inspiration. I feel I have made a difference in the world.

Those disappointed with the outcome can share this sullen moment with me, after which, we can refuse to give up. We can refuse to quit. We can look within to understand this.

I took the past few days to let my heart heal. I got mystical; I got drunk. Today and yesterday I’ve taken a couple walks to focus on the land around us. I’ve made some astonishing discoveries and I’ve let my imagination go free.

These ridges and the plants have been talking to me. I’m stumbled upon ruins of men from long ago and materials left behind by past dreamers and visionaries. This place where Mark, Zak, Alison and I live is miraculous. The land has so much to tell us about ourselves. The land can quiet us and teach us. It can humble us.

On one hand I’d say we are nothing, but the other perspective is to see that we are everything and all of this is ours for the creating. We make this. We are the creators of all this.

I hope someone else has had the ground beneath their feet upset this weekend. I hope someone else relates to this shift of consciousness. I feel lost. Next week will be different.


Burnt bus photo by “Sugar Skull”.

Correspondence from the Far End of the World

Being apart from everyone, you become aware of all the things you don’t need. Actually, it’s more that you become oblivious to all that you’re “missing”. You start to remember what you had thought you needed, and now that you’re away from that world, you have what you need anyway.


Some believe that this world should unify to become one. It would be an easier world to manage if we were one world. But I believe we should manage ourselves. I believe that no group should dominate and no group should evaporate. There will be differences but there is room for all of us.

The Earth is the Earth and the world is the world. The Earth IS one regardless of the actions of the world. The Earth IS unified and every action is connected with every other action on this Earth.

The world, though, is made of many cultures. It is many worlds within this world.

I’m ready to get back to my world, which is right in front of me. Less pixels, more atoms. My desire is to become more in harmony with my immediate world, consequently, more in harmony with the Earth.

I’m glad to be able to disconnect a bit.


This blog will continue to be connected to Facebook thru fanpages: @Fishbowler, @International Car Forest of the Last Church, @NadaDada Motel, @AYBAB2u and the event page for our big @End of the World Party (the FAR END!!), which starts tonight.

Curious about my world of Goldfield? Fan up with @Radio Goldfield KGFN for live streaming (my show, Audio Sorgfield, airs 8pm Friday nights, Pacific Time), and keep an eye on @Goldfield Chamber. My email is I love correspondence.

Throughout rural Nevada, there are little oases of art worth visiting

We’ll be burning another one for the party, btw.

From Reno News & Review‘s
State of the arts 

“If we bury two more cars, we’ll have 40,” Chad Sorg announces proudly. The former Renoite is now president of the chamber of commerce in Goldfield, another former mining boomtown. He’s talking about the car forest, an art installation where he’s been helping long-time Goldfielder Mark Rippee plant cars nose-down in the ground.

The site, officially known as the International Car Forest of the Last Church, will be the grounds for Sorg’s End of the World Party, a homegrown music and art festival scheduled to coincide with the town’s annual Goldfield Days celebration. The lineup is still being finagled. The car forest is ungated and open to visitors year-round. Tickets to the End of the World Party, Aug. 18-19, are $25, which includes camping. To purchase, call the Goldfield Gift Shop, (775) 485-3700.

For more info about Goldfield Days:

Read full article:

Creating a Culture: End of the World Party (the FAR END)

I’d like to offer some ideals for how this party will go. I want to instill a mood. We need to affect a certain ‘culture’ here. It’s a vacation and it should be made into such. Do you need a vacation?

I think of the attention spans and collective ADD that we share, societally. We need to be entertained all the time? We need information fed to us? We need our text messages going at all times?

This is THE place to get away from all that. Trust me. Since moving to Goldfield, I’ve let a lot of frustration go. Granted, certain goals, I’ve been working toward my whole life and one of them is to identify just what it is that keeps us worried or discouraged. Maybe it’s convoluted thought, itself, that keeps us lost and running scared. Always something we need to be doing. Never a clear idea of where we are or where we’re going. Clarity.

Let’s make this party chill and pleasant. Let’s let it all go for a weekend. Let’s remember what true appreciation is and family joy. Bring your kids. Opt out of Burning Man-style drug induced haze. Gaze at the stars; observe nature. Enjoy the rapturous sunset. Appreciate the history of the city that used to stand here and the energy that was once exerted here. Imagine the past. Interact with people again. We’re all in the same boat and we all need to remember that FEAR is not necessary. Just be.

I call it the End of the World Party because I want you to feel out on a ledge and at the FAR END. I want you to remember what’s beautiful in the world and get back to what’s real. Stop wasting time worrying. Let’s enjoy. Let’s embrace. Let’s relax.

The irony is that you feel ‘away’ when you’re here but not disconnected. We’re at the edge of a tiny town that’s celebrating its own existence. Goldfield Days is the same weekend, August 17th.

Sleep amongst the car forest.



Collaboration with Alison. She’s 4 and a half years old. We live in Goldfield.The people have spoken.

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I’ve made an art of my hair for 10 years now. This collaborative photo presentation with Alison and her dad yeilded the longest bag of hair that I’ve so far saved. I have 10 years of ziplock bags full of my hair. I’m not kidding. Some day the hair will be on exhibit.

The Goldfield Chamber of Commerce needs their President to be presentable. This was a present to them in a way. We’re going to rock Goldfield Days this year. Please come camp with us at the Car Forest for the End of the World Party that weekend of Aug. 17th.

Thanks for your patience Alison. Hi 5!

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