A remote control hot tub still sits in the NIMBY's yard. A giant cereal bowl with pillows in magically delicious shapes lay in waiting for Burning Man. Tomorrow afternoon, a semi-truck will haul them from industrial Oakland to the desert plain of Black Rock City.

"About seventy-five percent of the art from here has already reached the desert," Michael Snook, founder of NIMBY, said. "We helped create 10 large scale installations."

That these artworks got this far is a small miracle. NIMBY, a do-it-yourself art warehouse, has had trouble staying open for its artists. After it opened in West Oakland in 2004, they had a small fire. Then the City of Oakland said they had to move.

Dave Pedroli, NIMBY business consultant, hated to leave his West Oakland neighborhood. "Pals lumber was our next-door neighbor and that's the only place you can get custom cut wood. They don't sell that at Home Depot."

But by the end of 2008, NIMBY found a home in East Oakland, in so-called warehouselandia. Zoned as an M-30 Heavy Duty manufacturing space, the former wood manufacturing plant's 64,000 square feet of space now house NIMBY tenants. The move cost more than $50,000 and set up a fundraising necessity upon move-in.

Luckily, Burning Man organizers threw down some cash. "The Black Rock Arts Foundation really helped us in our transitional times," Dave said.

Many tenants at NIMBY are self-described burner artists. Pedroli, or "Super Dave" as he is known, worked for BRC's Department of Public Works, the planners who lay the groundwork for Black Rock City.

"They also give away great, bizarre grants every year. Once you get a grant from BRAF, you reach a whole new level of opportunity as an artist," Dave said.

Snook nodded. "Burning man is the gateway grant," he said.

Both managers stand more than six feet tall and burly, like brown bears in a den of manufacturing equipment. Their art factory, which embraces Burning Man's "radical inclusion" principle, is run a bit like the Island of Misfit Toys. Volunteers materialize to turn a loose screw or run tools for fellow artists even as they fight to remain on the cityscape.

"For newbie artists inspired by Burning Man, this place is a great place to learn," Super Dave said. "And Oakland has everything you need."

A few feet from where Snook and Dave stood, and scuttled in between stacked shipping containers was a parked '59 El Camino. Sparks flew as Bruce Tomb and his crew readied their homage to the car industry: a transforming car with the likeness of Maria, from the utopian film "Metropolis," perforated on the hood. That the original Squeegee factory stands a few blocks away from Maria Del Camino seemed fitting. And while the Oakland warehouse scene isn't making any cars these days, they do produce the parts NIMBY artists need.

"They spent about $6,000 on the frame from a shop right around here," Dave told me as welders soldered parts to their Ave Maria, "and an another $5,000 on the retrofit and welding equipment, electrical components—all of it purchased from Oakland businesses."

NIMBY isn't the only art foundry in Oakland. Several warehouses, like Vulcan, Kinetic Steam Works and the Crucible function as art-event spaces to keep creating. But it is hard to build utopian dreams in a city with dystopic bureaucracy. Every year, NIMBY pays some $10,000 in permit fees.

"We're still paying for our Haiti benefit," Super Dave said. The fundraiser, held last February, necessitated several police, security dogs and a lot of dead time waiting for a green light.

"In the end, all the money we raised went to the permits," he said. "I think we sent about 16 palettes of clothes for Haiti's earthquake relief, but not much cash."

The road to permit compliance for any artist is marked with detour signs. City Council member Larry Reid, whose District 7 houses the NIMBY lot, took issue with the space. He could not be reached for comment but did claim that NIMBY was nothing more than a party gang.

So, NIMBY holds onto its ten-year lease and waits for their assembly permit (they're optimistic) as Reid refuses their invitations to visit. Meanwhile, NIMBY reaches out to its neighbors.

"For National Night Out, we had the kids from Tassafronga housing complex. Communities across Oakland took to the streets to see each other and build neighbor relationships. NIMBY "They were really into seeing the fire art displays."

These kids probably couldn't swing the $360 ticket price at Black Rock City gates. Those who can anticipate displays of a grandiose magnitude on the playa. The man burns September 4.

And Snook couldn't be happier. He's looking forward to another quiet season at NIMBY, when the city of Oakland simmers in post-production burner blitz.

"In the next few months, we'll be moving out everyone's stuff," he said. "And then next winter, we start all over."

This story was funded with the support of many cool people, via Spot.us