Last week, on the 17th, our bestie KD took me to a place in downtown Houston called Meow Wolf. I've been caught up in my own stuff, but I'm ready to finally write about it!
All I knew in advance is I heard Meow Wolf described as a "liminal space museum". I love liminal spaces, dreamcore, Yume Nikki & fangames, so I had high hopes. I didn't know how it would work exactly, if it would be interactive and I'd get to walk around in the spaces or what. In the end I was pleasantly surprised!
We entered through a queue into a small room with other visitors. We only were waiting a moment before someone entered and started briefing everyone. She told us that there's 3 main rules:
- Touch and interact with everything, but don't break or steal objects.
- Don't enter any doors labeled "staff only" or similar.
- "This will sound weird, but, when you want to leave, the exit is through the fridge. You'll know when you see it."
There was laughter at the last one, including mine. It sounded so silly! But it also indicated to me I'm about to love whatever I see. A big part of my enjoyment in experiences like Yume Nikki, Yume 2kki and Omori, was environments that made no sense or embraced absurdism. The notion that the exit could be in a fridge fit that perfectly.
The framing device
The guide left us with a one-sentence introduction to the setting: "you're exploring a radio station that was teleported to another dimension." That got my imagination going. I hadn't expected a "liminal space museum" to have a framing device, but in the end I can say it added a lot and I'm so glad it was there. Omori has been described before as "Yume Nikki with a story", and that's where my mind went.
The first room we entered was the lobby of a radio station. It was very carefully decorated. Framed photos of employees, wall plaques, a decked-out reception desk, little chairs to sit in, and a glass window going into a recording booth with headsets. I could hear a radio broadcast over the "intercom" as it were - it had some music but was mostly gentle talking. I was overwhelmed on account of how hard it was to get here, and so much sensory input at once, but KD helped me sit down and soothed me until I was ready to explore.
There was a book on the little table in front of us, KD handed it to me. It appeared to be completely hand-made, including these cute stylized drawings and handwritten text. It spoke of a little town in Texas called Little Thicket, that this radio station, ETNL, was once part of. It spoke of the community working ETNL, and the station and everyone inside being taken to The Glen, a strange pocket dimension between dimensions. But most importantly, it stressed that even though everyone was taken here, they have each other and consider each other found family, and ultimately the dynamics and bonds between everyone haven't changed at all since they were taken.
It was the perfect introduction to the setting, and set up the themes of the experience: community, found family, and love, the bonds that transcend space and reach other dimensions, and how important it is to appreciate one another and make safe spaces. I started to get a feel for the writing style, and I could tell real, caring people worked on this. These beliefs and values are very attached to being queer, and are things we've never seen where we live in the suburbs outside Houston. I'm happy to say that, being trans (and a few other flavors of queer), I felt very safe and welcomed by this story and environment, it resonated deeply with me, and these positive feelings never went away during the visit.
I poked around the lobby area and noticed the attention to detail put in. Every little poster and sticky note on the corkboards were personally made for this universe. Printouts of in-character blog posts, writings to other staff, ads for businesses that were in Little Thicket, drawings sent in by fans of the station... I quickly realized that even the framed photos of staff were in-universe characters played by actors. Even the radio broadcasts you hear are voice acted in-character! The love and care put in was obvious in every room.
Exploration
My goodness. The exploring had to be my favorite part of the whole experience. Yes, there were regular rooms from ETNL station scattered throughout, but most rooms were delightfully strange, chaotic, beyond explanation, clashing styles, otherworldly... it was perfect. Every room was something different and you never knew what was on the other side of a door. Many doors blended in to the wall art in the rooms, making it feel like I was finding secrets. It's as close as you can get to Yume Nikki in real life. I'm happy to say that there were indeed rooms that made no sense, and yes, the fridge is also a door that opens somewhere completely different.
And as I mentioned before, attention to detail. Every room was very lovingly crafted. KD informed me that local indie artists were hired to do the art in most rooms. Several rooms look like they were handed to one artist at a time. There was a wide variety of different artstyles, both 2d and 3d. There are a bunch of rooms with interactable elements, too. There's a really cool area that looks like a city, with lots of signs and lights above, that connects to other rooms, stuff like an arcade or a restaurant, and they all hold so many secrets and worldbuilding elements, like graffiti, stickers, old ads, sticky notes, and more. Lots of rooms had ambient noises and audio, or even music, and I think those were also made by indie artists!
As I got comfortable wandering and exploring, I really let loose. KD did her best to follow as I bounced between rooms excitedly. Something about the exploration, and the mystery of seeing what's behind every door, appealed to me. I really got the feeling this place could've gone on forever. It was massive, way bigger than I expected from the outside of the building. I've always gotten this way when exploring a new Yume Nikki fangame. It was also fun to pass by fellow explorers, knowing we're all seeing the same things. Hell, they even pull an amazing trick, where the real elevator has two doors and two floors, and each destination opens somewhere completely different.
The games within the game
The phones. Around the scattered pieces of the ETNL station, you can find phones. Some are wall-mounted and must be picked up, some sit on a desk with a fancy receiver with a screen. These are part of the experience and they're integrated in a really cool way. You can find many six-digit codes hidden on your journey. KD told me this from the start, and I immediately started jotting down several I saw on posters and flyers. I actually got pretty good at spotting them! You're encouraged to call these numbers on the phones in the exhibit. They play pre-recorded messages by in-character voice actors, that add extra lore and worldbuilding. It's such a cute touch! What's even cooler is these phones can call each other with their own six-digit numbers. The other phones in the exhibit will ring, and other visitors can pick them up and talk to you!
My mind wandered back to the companion app I mentioned earlier. The guide at the start mentioned offhand that there's a scavenger hunt you can do with the app, and supposedly nobody's ever completed it in full. I really wanted to try it! Shame I couldn't, but I think something like that adds even more fun and interaction with this already visually stunning and sensory world. I'm really impressed, and I left with the impression that if I ever came back, I'd only dig deeper and deeper into the mysteries of The Glen.
Side ramble: comparing MW to YN fangames
So, there's this "problem" that's plagued Yume 2kki for a long time. This is subjective, so bear with me. By allowing many, many creators to add their own areas, many new worlds start to feel "samey" to existing rooms, or worse, long and boring to repeatedly pass through on your way to other worlds. In a way, one may argue that adding all these worlds gives the game the feeling of infinity, that you really can get lost in these dream worlds going deeper and deeper forever. Unfortunately, due to the way the game is structured and how it's continued to evolve, Yume 2kki has changed from a "getting lost" kind of "exploration" - the kind I associate with the original Yume Nikki and especially .flow - to more of a "road trip" sort of "exploration". You've seen the same set of 30 worlds closest to the start hundreds of times, and the destination you've picked from the wiki is far away, so you pull up a tool like 2kki explorer and generate the exact path to follow. Basically it's google maps.
I bring this up because, to me, Meow Wolf manages to solve some aspects of this problem, despite being a different medium. For one, each room being a real space means you can move through as fast as your body can move. There aren't any especially long rooms. You can easily retrace your steps because it doesn't take very long. YN fangames often have special effect interactions, one-way teleports, visually confusing or obstructive mazes, and more. None of these are in Meow Wolf, and I think that's for the best. Those elements can be frustrating even for me, a YN fan.
Cowboix Hevvven
Yes, I spelled that correctly.
Cowboix Hevvven is a really unique and cool idea I wasn't expecting. One of the bizarre alien worlds we encountered appeared to have a stage, with a background, and tables and chairs in front, all set up like a performance. I mentioned in passing how cool it'd be to encounter an alien restaurant in this other universe, buy real food, and chill in these otherworldly environments. KD's response made it clear that I was right. Hidden somewhere in this maze of alien rooms really is an alien restaurant, and they do serve food! I couldn't believe it!
Unfortunately, we arrived too late and they weren't serving food anymore. But the place itself is great. Usually I have a disdain for things I perceive as "texan" or "southern", so you'd think Cowboix Hevvven being styled like a wooden tavern, complete with a bar, bar stools, benches in the back, drawings made of knife scratches in the wood, and a jukebox, would upset me. But it really didn't? I was surprised, too. I was expecting to see something that'd make my metaphorical fur stand on end, but I found no such thing. I'll elaborate on it in the next section.
I want to show off something in particular. On the other side of the exit door is a real sign by Meow Wolf, laying down rules for the bar. Something in the text made me really happy:
Meow Wolf is dedicated to providing a harassment-free experience for all staff and guests, regardless of gender and gender identity, sexual orientation, religion, disability, neurodiversity, physical appearance or other protected category.
I couldn't believe it. I was so touched and happy when I read it. This place really is different from all the other corporate shell locations you'd see around here. The recognition of not only gender identity and expression, disability, but also neurodiversity made me feel very seen. Again, I'll talk about it in the next section.
A safe space
This is the core thing I wanted to write about after our wonderful visit to Meow Wolf.
Do you know how, when going through something very corporate, like a tax office or the DMV, or something very capitalist, like a tourist trap destination that underdelivers... you get this feeling? This vibe hanging over your head, that this place, the things in it, the people in it, the forces behind it, are looking down on you. You're just numbers to them. Every poster or ad that boasts how much they'll help you, or what a great experience it is that must be shared with friends and family, all feels hollow. Performative. There's probably a term for this, all I know is it relates to capitalism.
In my previous experiences at other museums of various kinds, these forces were prevalent. Even though museums are places you pay to visit to see cool things, you're constantly being upsold, passing by in-house storefronts or mini-restaurants, advertised to about upcoming events and their admission prices, and more. Hell, a museum I went to with an ex years ago not only charged for parking, but aggressively pushed every visitor to park there, had officers to track where you parked and for how long, the front desk was warning verbally and on signs about the threat of being towed or charged extra fees... we just parked far away and walked the distance.
But... not at Meow Wolf.
Not to mention, for an interactive exhibit, it didn't undersell. I'd say there was no effort spared, that is to say, every room was filled with love and passion and attention to detail. The biggest thing in the exhibit, The Amalgam, is a giant tower made of dozens and dozens of discarded objects and broken machines. You can press the buttons on the keyboards and phones melted into the tower. Hell, even a secret mini-fridge KD found on the floor had environmental storytelling with little decorated cans, and a little alien world diorama inside.
So, on the front of "honesty", Meow Wolf is excellent. But there's more things about it that affected me deeply.
The second thing is the themes. I mentioned at the start that the story of ETNL, also known as Radio Tave, involves a tightly knit community being suddenly warped to another dimension, and their love and bonds keeping them together. The cute little storybooks in the radio station's more "normal" rooms tell different perspectives on the event, and how it affected different people.
My favorite one is about Aaron Cohen, a character who's part of the exhibit as a statue, sitting in a giant coral reef, overtaken by the coral and sea life and having become part of it. The book speaks of his experience pre-dimension warp, drifting through life and doing work he didn't enjoy, before having an experience while sea diving that lit a flame in him and helped him find his passion, working as part of the community of ETNL radio. After the warp, he slowly transforms into part of the reef, but he's happier than ever and his friends respect it. We learn that The Glen - the dimension itself - may be alive, and communicating directly with him, and they have a special bond. The text says that Aaron dedicated so much of his time and effort to the community in and around ETNL/Tave radio, and everyone loved him and misses him, but it's implied that by becoming one with the sea life here, he's found his safe space, he's happier than ever, and he hasn't ever really left them, he's just taken on a change that makes him happier.
It's so thought-provoking. A bit mysterious. But also pretty sad. The others miss him dearly. In summary, this one little picture book goes over wistful loneliness and drifting through life, finding something you really enjoy, making new bonds with people around you, and staying true to your love for others even as the world changes around you. I kind of understand Aaron's transformation as a sacrifice of sorts. Not that he especially had to protect anybody from anything, but something in him motivated him, pushed him forward so much, that he was willing to give up his physical life to be happier. And while his friends miss him, they still come by his statue and talk to him as if he's still with them, and even play him music. It evokes themes of grief, but that grief obviously comes from a place of love.
Why do I bring this up? First of all, this kind of writing, focus on emotions, bonds, feelings and such, is what really gets to me. I tear up a little when I talk about this story. It takes a lot for any kind of art exhibit or museum to speak to me like that - and that wasn't the only writing of this universe's story that did so. Second, it's the themes. All the little books are so sweet and heartwarming in ways that scream to me these were written by people who really care. From our understanding, many other media out there, like kids' shows and books, lack this human element. I don't think I have the words to explain this. All I can tell you is every part of the Radio Tave canon in Meow Wolf Houston was written with love and care to such an extent that I couldn't feel any corporate oversight.
Third, there's even more details around the exhibit that makes me feel seen. While I don't remember seeing anything alluding to gay or lesbian couples, I'm sure there must've been at least one I missed. Next to some text characterizing The Glen as a sentient being, is a sticky note asking what The Glen's pronouns would be. The restrooms in the break room are labeled "all gender restroom" with a wheelchair-accessible sign. A restaurant's menu lists "Gender Fluid" as a drink, and the secret mini-fridge I mentioned earlier has a crushed can of Gender Fluid in it. There's a sticker high up on a wall saying "police not welcome". As mentioned earlier, there's some murals dedicated to specific people of color in real life, and a sign outside Cowboix Hevvven that stresses inclusivity to all gender identities, sexualities, even disabilities and neurodivergence.
This place feels like a safe space.
All of these are little nods and references to concepts generally understood in the queer community and similar. I genuinely believe people who care have to have made this, because an interactive art exhibit made with heavy corporate oversight would've either skipped these or done them injustice. I would've been able to tell. Like I said, I'm very good at feeling out these sorts of vibes. I felt genuinely like, if I could talk to the people who worked on this place, they'd be 100% fine with me being trans, lesbian, autistic, disabled, and anything else.
On the way out, there was a touchscreen for leaving feedback. I wondered if maybe this thing, this clearly modern-looking touchscreen device with fancy graphics and animations, would be the part where they play corporate... no. It was genuinely just for leaving feedback. I could rate from 1-5 how I enjoyed it, how nice general staff was, if it was worth the price, if I'd recommend to others, and I could leave text suggestions. Really the only "upselling" I faced was having to pay for parking - but even then, it's a special system where you only pay when you leave, and like... they've got to make money somehow. So, about that...
What I took from that part
Having grown up here, in the suburbs southeast of houston, we've been surrounded by capitalism and corporate performativism our whole life. We're used to it. If you've ever heard that autistic people are much more resistant to advertising, it's completely true, we learn to tune it out very quickly. I was always under the impression that the world is an unkind place, and no matter where you go, you have to answer to people above you who don't care for you.
Maybe it's partially true. But it's not as bad as I believed.
Another mistaken belief that's been with us for a long time is that cities are bad. We probably got this understanding from like, cartoons with robbers and villains hiding in alleys, marvel superheroes, and such. Heck, this is also relevant because of our move to New York. But it's not true.
When I went to Downtown Houston, and even Downtown Austin, with Mocha and August in 2025, I could tell immediately that the culture was different than what we grew up with. Yes, it's much more "physical", cemented in reality, there's more people around, who interact with each other more, and are generally packed together. There's lots of traffic. People walk everywhere. But... there's a side to it I never knew until last year. Urban culture is more down to earth. As long as you're in a place with overall good ideologies - Downtown Houston's actually been considered the most progressive part of Texas I think, and New York is a trans safe space - you can feel safe walking in the streets. Not only that, all the businesses, the people, the general vibe and atmosphere hanging over your head, is kinder. More understanding. It feels like, in a sense, the mask of these cities is off, and what you see is what you get... and every time I've been to Downtown Houston in the past year, including Meow Wolf, I've felt a strong sense that cities like this would be a much happier home than the place we grew up. Heck, maybe the themes of community love and found family in the exhibit's writing are about this.
Maybe it's hard for anyone reading to understand what I'm saying. I've been sensitive to "vibes" and "forces" like this for a long time. My words can fail to carry what I'm trying to say about them. But what I want to say is that Meow Wolf gave me hope.
The concept is silly and whimsical. An interactive art exhibit with a story where you get lost in another universe and explore bizarre, nonsensical rooms - not alien planets, but more like liminal spaces and surreal places - for as long as you like, with a lot of depth, character writing, secrets, a few games, and even an in-house secret restaurant. In present day 2026, I was sure that something so honest and fun wouldn't last, like how so many arcades and skating rinks closed down over time. But Meow Wolf is clearly doing well. Just look at its website, see how well-made it is, the high quality video background, the ticket prices, and their several locations.
Meow Wolf is an example of a giant labor of love project, with many indie contributors, references and love for the real downtown community it's built in, made with all-original art, which explicitly welcomes minority groups, with great attention to detail, that doesn't use the friendly corporate façade at all, and it's doing well.
We're moving to New York in 4 days! Everything I've heard about Brooklyn from
Uncle Cr4y and other friends has been very positive, and feels a lot like what I've expressed here. I've heard so many nice stories and reassuring facts. Meow Wolf really did feel to me like a hope spot in houston, where I could forget about the world we grew up in, and get lost in a better place, a better place that wants me here. I think the move to Brooklyn will be the same. I'm so excited.
Oh, yeah. I also heard that Meow Wolf is planning to open a location in New York in 2027-2028. I'm totally taking Uncle and friends there one day!!