Post BTW Thoughts
My memory has never been the sort to trap story arcs and plots. I can bearly remember what happened to me this morning, much less a week ago. So, unfortunately, many things have already disappeared behind the veil for me. My brain captures impressions. I tend to see the world like a Monet painting. All murky and indistinct and yet still beautiful and perfectly rendered. Or, perhaps, a better metaphor is that of a patchwork quilt. No unifying theme, per se. But beautiful little patches that when sewn together still keep me warm.
Here are some patches:
--Getting lost on the way. Trying to rely on my phone's GPS. Tragically. This is nature's way of saying: "You're on my turf now. Put the gadgets away." Raymond smoldered quietly while I tried to find our way. 6am is entirely too early to be expected to navigate.
--Wow. We're already done with set up? That went fast. I guess after several years of this. . . . we all kind of know what to do. Friends from around the country are already arriving. It's good to be home.
--Who's the hottie with the ballcap?
--Witches? Actually from Salem, Massachuttestssdsfswrewr (I don't know how to spell it.)? Who knew? Mexiglenn / Angliglenn. Roy and Thom. Do you need help putting up your tent? No? Alright, then come help me set up the Druid's tent. Oh? He has another one? And another one? Wow. An awful lot of infrastructure for one guy.
--Alright, Otter. I wrote this song. You wanna join me on stage? Let's sing it again. Again. Again. Again. And this time with feeling.
--Who can I sit next to at the no-talent show? Oh, cool. Rich W. from NYC is totally my hero. HIT HER AGAIN! Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Now Riley has to shave his moustache.
--Caffeina's Cosmic Cocktail hour? Yes, I'll have another. Um. . . do you like bread? I've got a french loaf. Why,yes, it's right over there. And back again, jiggety-jig. Well that was new. And exciting. I'm totally channeling my inner-14-year-old-girl. Must pretend to be all tough and shit. Must not swoon. Must not swoon.
--Shoulder rubs for EVERYONE! I'll collect on that favor later.
--Alright, here's the plan: I'm going to paint Munch's The Scream on your ass. Then I'm going to press the paper against it. It's going to be soooo coool. Oh, Mickey? You want to paint my ass?
--MY ASS WON! MY ASS WON! And now we've got a birthday present for Josiah!
--Does this week feel really calm to anyone else? What could the difference be?
--Hmm. . . . if I hang out with the elders. . . . and I learn all their secrets now. . . when I'm an elder, I CAN BE KING! Actually, I just like them. They're super cool. I can't believe we've been coming for all these years and this is the first time I've really talked with Alaric and Kirk. I've been missing out.
--Chas doesn't like making art? What the fuck? How can he not love what he's so obviously talented at? Makes me bitter.
--Pagan mind-meld. I am so glad that I did this. I've known these people for a long time and this is the first I've heard some of them talk about their faith and ideas. I want to do it again next year. Kirk, you honor me by asking. Of course, of course.
--I always annoint people for komos. Do you like my loin-cloth? Hot damn, those goth CA boys can dress. Really, Christopher, I'm drama teflon. Why is Illious wearing my pimp-hat. And Christopher's feather boa? I'm amazed that he didn't clamp down while he was getting flogged. I dance and dance and dance. Whhhhhhhhhyyyyyyyyy? Difficult moral choices. Drake seems much more. . . . outgoing. . . . this year. They're not making out. They're making love. This is love without sin.
--3am is the perfect time for going to the Faerie Shrine. You wanna come with? It's very quiet. I can feel them russling around. They are curious. My gods the moon is bright. I have an offering. Every bell must be rung on the way out. I want, I want, I want. The moon is so bright. Well, I'm off to bed.
--I'm the dandy and I'm over here, m'bitches. Wow. Spiral Dances make my arms go all stretch-armstrong.
--Lili u e. . . . Hackey-sack. Her shoulders are like fans. I want to fondle her. I JUST CAN NOT FUCKING POP MY KNEES! Tristian and Chris are amazing.
--20 questions. How many more? 15? 10? 16?
--Jeffrey, will you sing dandelion for me? We're here. It's the last night. I collect on lent backrubs? Storms hands sparkle. I just want closeness. Sex falls away. I just want closeness. Let's keep talking. Let's keep dancing. Can Let's just all sit together. Let's keep telling stories. One more joke. One more dance. One more song. Let's just be close. Close. Close. Jeffrey, will you sing?
--Last day. Tents being packed. Maybe I can hide? Maybe I don't have to say goodbye. What if I wait? What if I just stay? They drive away each nipping a segment of my soul. Which, while painful, is fair. I have nipped segments of theirs as well. The two most painful goodbyes, perhaps. Hugs linger. They drive away. To open one's self up is to risk loss. But to not ever open up is to risk death.
--I just want to sit here and remember and relive and regain and restore and and and and and. And.
--Auntie Em! Auntie Em! Why is everybody's power out! I'm just so hungry.
--So it's just us again, huh? Well.
Quill.
Here are some patches:
--Getting lost on the way. Trying to rely on my phone's GPS. Tragically. This is nature's way of saying: "You're on my turf now. Put the gadgets away." Raymond smoldered quietly while I tried to find our way. 6am is entirely too early to be expected to navigate.
--Wow. We're already done with set up? That went fast. I guess after several years of this. . . . we all kind of know what to do. Friends from around the country are already arriving. It's good to be home.
--Who's the hottie with the ballcap?
--Witches? Actually from Salem, Massachuttestssdsfswrewr (I don't know how to spell it.)? Who knew? Mexiglenn / Angliglenn. Roy and Thom. Do you need help putting up your tent? No? Alright, then come help me set up the Druid's tent. Oh? He has another one? And another one? Wow. An awful lot of infrastructure for one guy.
--Alright, Otter. I wrote this song. You wanna join me on stage? Let's sing it again. Again. Again. Again. And this time with feeling.
--Who can I sit next to at the no-talent show? Oh, cool. Rich W. from NYC is totally my hero. HIT HER AGAIN! Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Now Riley has to shave his moustache.
--Caffeina's Cosmic Cocktail hour? Yes, I'll have another. Um. . . do you like bread? I've got a french loaf. Why,yes, it's right over there. And back again, jiggety-jig. Well that was new. And exciting. I'm totally channeling my inner-14-year-old-girl. Must pretend to be all tough and shit. Must not swoon. Must not swoon.
--Shoulder rubs for EVERYONE! I'll collect on that favor later.
--Alright, here's the plan: I'm going to paint Munch's The Scream on your ass. Then I'm going to press the paper against it. It's going to be soooo coool. Oh, Mickey? You want to paint my ass?
--MY ASS WON! MY ASS WON! And now we've got a birthday present for Josiah!
--Does this week feel really calm to anyone else? What could the difference be?
--Hmm. . . . if I hang out with the elders. . . . and I learn all their secrets now. . . when I'm an elder, I CAN BE KING! Actually, I just like them. They're super cool. I can't believe we've been coming for all these years and this is the first time I've really talked with Alaric and Kirk. I've been missing out.
--Chas doesn't like making art? What the fuck? How can he not love what he's so obviously talented at? Makes me bitter.
--Pagan mind-meld. I am so glad that I did this. I've known these people for a long time and this is the first I've heard some of them talk about their faith and ideas. I want to do it again next year. Kirk, you honor me by asking. Of course, of course.
--I always annoint people for komos. Do you like my loin-cloth? Hot damn, those goth CA boys can dress. Really, Christopher, I'm drama teflon. Why is Illious wearing my pimp-hat. And Christopher's feather boa? I'm amazed that he didn't clamp down while he was getting flogged. I dance and dance and dance. Whhhhhhhhhyyyyyyyyy? Difficult moral choices. Drake seems much more. . . . outgoing. . . . this year. They're not making out. They're making love. This is love without sin.
--3am is the perfect time for going to the Faerie Shrine. You wanna come with? It's very quiet. I can feel them russling around. They are curious. My gods the moon is bright. I have an offering. Every bell must be rung on the way out. I want, I want, I want. The moon is so bright. Well, I'm off to bed.
--I'm the dandy and I'm over here, m'bitches. Wow. Spiral Dances make my arms go all stretch-armstrong.
--Lili u e. . . . Hackey-sack. Her shoulders are like fans. I want to fondle her. I JUST CAN NOT FUCKING POP MY KNEES! Tristian and Chris are amazing.
--20 questions. How many more? 15? 10? 16?
--Jeffrey, will you sing dandelion for me? We're here. It's the last night. I collect on lent backrubs? Storms hands sparkle. I just want closeness. Sex falls away. I just want closeness. Let's keep talking. Let's keep dancing. Can Let's just all sit together. Let's keep telling stories. One more joke. One more dance. One more song. Let's just be close. Close. Close. Jeffrey, will you sing?
--Last day. Tents being packed. Maybe I can hide? Maybe I don't have to say goodbye. What if I wait? What if I just stay? They drive away each nipping a segment of my soul. Which, while painful, is fair. I have nipped segments of theirs as well. The two most painful goodbyes, perhaps. Hugs linger. They drive away. To open one's self up is to risk loss. But to not ever open up is to risk death.
--I just want to sit here and remember and relive and regain and restore and and and and and. And.
--Auntie Em! Auntie Em! Why is everybody's power out! I'm just so hungry.
--So it's just us again, huh? Well.
Quill.