MICHFEST 2005 (DAY 6 & 7)

One of the defining moments of the week: standing near a campfire, breath chilled and hanging just slightly in the air, women dragging tarps taut across an open patch of grass, a wagon full of cans of what looks like paint but actually is chocolate pudding, cans spilled out in splashy blotches on tarps, squishy toys thrown in pudding, and then butt-nekkid chicks, skin steaming in the cold, slip-sliding their way out onto the tarps and then body-slamming, head-locking, crashing, smashing, plopping, pulling other nekkid chicks into the pudding with them, skin slick with brown, grinning, sweet chocolate snack in every crack you can think of (and perhaps ones that you can't) all under the spotlight of a couple dozen flashlights jittering on them until 2:30 am. Hard NOT to sleep like a baby after THAT.

Today I dragged my ass out of bed at 7:45, despite getting less than 5 hours of sleep. Amazing. In the three years I've been here, I don't think we've ever stayed up past 1 am or so. Which is actually kinda lame. Heh heh. I am glad for this change. My eyes and body are not happy about it this morning, barely able to stay open. But dammit, it's the last full day so I figure I really should just take advantage of the last remnants of workshops and get my tush moving. So I get to make some books. Out of junk. And they are pretty damn cool. And life is good.

Last day, I am sitting awaiting the start of the drum circle, typical of my last-day routine. Gah. The real world. I am not ready to go back, but I hope to take these energies back with me and couch myself with them, nicely and comfily, for a good long time. And share them with others--let them spill out some splashy bits of goodness on them as well.

What I think amazes me most about this place is that its beauty comes from something so unconcrete, so changing, and yet so dependable--not a piece of scenery, not a person or a face, but a SPACE, an ENERGY. There is something about returning to a space that you know and grow in knowing over the years, something that you know and that knows you as well. It is like returning to the warm smile of an old old friend that you only see once a year for a week, and it's like basking in that fantastic glow and warmth and energy but not just in that brief moment of greeting each other again, embracing, and exchanging that love, but the WHOLE TIME you're together. It's changed and grown, the connection and love between you, different and yet the same because it's ALWAYS there to run back to and it reminds you why you should feel good about yourself, what it is to be happy in yourself, what it is to feel comfortable (really goddamn comfortable) someplace, completely unjudged, no baggage and messiness, just there to be. That's a fucking AMAZING thing. There is something awe-inspiring in the familiarity of the place, like coming home or the comfort of sitting in your mom's lap as a child, that doesn't unravel into staticness because each time is the same place, the same energy, but different ways that this is achieved. The ritual of it all, the fact that it is a rock, a solid abstraction that resides unchangeable despite the fact that everything within in it is in a constant state of change, this is beauty, this is home.

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MICHFEST 2005 (DAY 5)

Friday morning. It is still raining a bit, so I sleep through my yoga class knowing I will just be uncomfortable and soggy if I go (everything here is outdoors), so I head out instead for my 10:30 Basics of Auto Mechanics class. The instructor never shows which is a bit irritating since I've arranged my schedule to accomodate a class that I've always wished they'd offer and wondered why they hadn't in prior years. But things even out for the afternoon because of the performances--I get to see Alix Olsen slam out her poetry. Also get to see Tribe 8 play (perhaps their last ever performance) which is crazy fantastic fun. Lynn Breedlove is insane (which awes me because she wrote one of the most entertaining and well-written new books I've read in a while a couple years back as well: Godspeed).

I must pause to discuss the following topic which I'd forgotten to do earlier: smiling. One huge part of what I love about the festival is the energy that swells between all of the women here, and one way in which it manifests itself is the smiling. Pretty close to every single woman who walks by you here takes the time to say hi to you or at least smile. And the smiles are so full of warmth and generosity that it is difficult not to feel recharged, simply from these small acts. Maybe I am just ultra sensitive to it, given that I work in a place where I can (swear to god) walk by someone, make eye contact with them, hold the eye contact, smile and offer them a Hi or Good Morning and have them not even acknowledge it with a word or a smile in return--just a cool black slate of corporate coldness. So maybe it means more to me than most to feel this energy, but it is beautiful. And it's also beautiful because I feel such positive energy pour out of me in the smiles I exchange with others as well--other places, exchanges are so sterile and mechanical that my smiles are just really tight lips stretched across gritted teeth. But here, my smiles are like waterfall energy spilling everywhere with nourishment. When I smile, I mean it. I smile because I love it here, I smile because I love the women here, I smile smile smile smile smile with every muscle in my goddamn face. It's quite fantastic.

So back to other things. Friday afternoon I decide to head over to Camp Trans (my first time) with M to meet up with my sister and her girlfriend as we'd tentatively planned over the phone the week before. The plan is to wander over there and pray that I run across her--neither of us are sure how many folks ATTEND camp trans, what the layout is like, etc., and so we're just keeping our fingers crossed that I am able to track her down. We haven't even left the grounds yet, we're dragging our asses through the thousands of cars parked in the grassy lots, when I hear someone shouting, and M says, Isn't that your SISTER?! It seems that my sister just HAPPENED to be walking down the dirt road at the exact same time we were about to head over and start looking for her. Ah the powers of sisterly psychic energy! We spend an hour or two chatting while scuffling up dirt as we walk along the dirt road and while roaming through the woods and Camp Trans to check out her tent and the area. It is always great to see my sister--she is a source of stability and peacefulness to me--so I am very happy that things fell into place so neatly. It was too short, but hopefully I will see her again sometime in the next month.

We head off to our evening. The music is great again--the Indigo Girls!--as well as the comedy of Elvira and BETTY. And the highlight of the night is when all the performers accumulate on stage to sing Closer to Fine with the Indigo Girls, particularly joyous and fun because Lynn Breedlove--her punk-ass, hardcore, feminist, gender queer, butch, dildo-toting, knife-waving self--sang her ass off to every goddamn beautiful word of that song with a smile smeared messily across her face. Fantastic.

Wide awake still, we decide to check out the burlesque show at the Twilight Zone. The Twilight Zone is the camping area for the hard-core, noisy, don't-sleep-all-week party folks (and s & m-ers). We stick around and get to see a bit of striptease, but as it hasn't even gotten into full gear and is still dragging along at even 2 am, we head back.

I did, however, get to see six shooting starts in the space of an hour--did I mention how fucking beautiful and clear the night sky is here?

Tomorrow night we plan on returning after Night Stage to check out the pudding wrestling. Tee hee.

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#1 Reason Why I Should Appreciate My Job

Every year at Michfest, I'll be sitting around at my tent or curling up in my sleeping back and hear this terrific and loud droning noise seeping into the woods from a distance. It sounds like a very very large and very irregular bug buzzing in some weird kind of way. Every year I wonder to myself or others what the hell this noise could be.

Finally, this year the mystery was solved. I was walking to the August Night Cafe with M when we happened upon the very loud, very disgusting source of the droning: men were running back and forth with very large hoses from Port-A-Jane to Port-A-Jane sucking up... well... you know... all the shit and piss from the Port-A-Janes into a very large honest to god Shit-Mobile.

Need I say more?

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MICHFEST 2005 (DAY 4)

Finally! I've been so fricking busy, flitting about and doing my business, that I haven't had a chance to journal in two days. This is good.

The rain has been like a postage stamp, carefully placed in the corner of the days. The first rain took place in the middle of the night until just moments before the alarm went off. The second rain was Wednesday night during night stage--typically a mucky nightmare filled with rain ponchos, wet tarps, and slightly grouchy women. But this time it started right before Le Tigre and continued through the night into the next day. But it was perfectly in sync with the energy of Le Tigre, lemme tell you, and so we just took off our shoes and socks and danced the shit out of the muddy ground while Le Tigre rocked (and I mean ROCKED) the house out. We were soaking wet, we were caked in mud, but we didn't care because the music felt so damn good. They were phenomenal--even better than on their cds which is really goddamn impressive for a band that relies so heavily on electronics. They had choreographed dance routines, they had background slides and video footage, and they had killer singing voices. It was without a doubt one of the best shows I've seen here.

We walked back to the tent in the pouring rain, me barefoot all the way through woodchips and gravel, M dragging her filthy self behind me. Our arms were coated with random splotches of dirt and twigs, my pants were soaked through with water and dirt nearly to the knees, but we were very very happy. We slept well, and the rain kindly stopped mid-morning.

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MICHFEST 2005 (DAY 3)

This morning I woke up in the dark to the sounds of REAL rain this time, which of course made me need to pee. Thankfully, mother nature rocks so far this week and the rain literally wrapped up its performance just moments before we awoke to start the day. Not a drop since. Blueberries for breakfast. Scrambled eggs as well. I wish I ate so healthy in the morning ALL the time, dammit. Though my chances of choking to death on the natural peanut butter that I slather on my bread (which are pretty damn high, even here at the festival) would be increased greatly, which is probably not so good a thing. Showered this morning--when it's hot it feels SO much more necessary to do this regularly during the week, unlike last year when it was rainy and cold and you can hide your stink beneath layers. Went to my Qigong workshop which has become an annual tradition. I am DETERMINEd to remember the fricking movements this time so I can force E to do it with me occasionally on the weekends. It is fiercely sunny out once again, not a rain cloud in the sky. Tonight is the opening ceremony which means the mad rush of tarps to snag a seat for the performances. Thankfully there's only two of us which will make things a bit easier. I feel as though I'm relaying nothing real substantial about the fest here at the moment--no politics, no philosophy, just my daily events. Perhaps because not much is riling me up this week as it did last year. I am just happy to be back home. All my positive energies are like a plant that's finally been watered after a long drought. E is right--I will most certainly return home more cheery and centered and ready to kick some patriarchal asses. (Beware, wiener-toters.) Oh, integral and important info that I DO have to impart to you: there is a new Ben and Jerry's bar this year (Half-Baked) at the Cuntree Store, and I am addicted: a brownie slice covered with ice cream and infused with random bursts of cookie dough and then topped with chocolate. **It is strangely empty over here today which means the line to the food tent is probably going to be GROTESQUELY huge--fingers crossed.

Okay. I still have 45 minutes til I have to meet M, so I will impart some more random tidbits. I have been topless the last two days. I fear I am getting more neurotic with my weird food compulsions, but at least they're amusing M. Some lovely woman just gave me big warm smiles. There are two girls about 20 ft. away wearing nothing but underwear and bats/fairy wings. E gave me an envelope to open each day of the week. I would tell you what was in each one, but I like secrets too much. =) I bought myself a sweet Michfest jogging jacket thing, to finally take place of my ratty red hoodie--very '70's. I still need to pee fiercely. So now we shall depart, oh Journal. Good day.

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MICHFEST 2005 (DAY 2--CONTINUED)

Bah. Didn't end up journaling last night before bed--stayed up talking instead which is better anyways. But the final events of yesterday are now cloudy. Sat outside in the afternoon by the tent and faked reading while M walked around in the ferns, playing guitar quietly to herself beneath speckled sun. Then had some of the infamous Michfest nutloaf. Check out the recipe, specific to the quantity needed to feed 7,000 of us Michfesters. It'll make you laugh:

Cook:

400 lbs. of Brown Rice

Chop:

425 lbs. Onions

310 lbs. Mushrooms

400 lbs. Carrots

400 lbs. Yams

105 bunches Parsley

Mince:

13 lbs. of Garlic

Cube:

400 lbs. of Tofu

Blend:

1.75 lbs. Thyme

1.75 lbs. Margoram

1.33 lbs. Sage

Measure:

55 lbs. Walnuts

55 lbs. Peanuts

90 lbs. Sunflower Seeds

3.5 gal. Vegetable Oil

Grate:

150 lbs. Sharp Cheddar Cheese

Roast nuts in light oil, stirring constantly. Saute Onions, then Carrots, then Yams, then mushrooms. Add Garlic and Herbs, stir through. Add Tofu, and bring everything to a slow boil and simmer.
Combine Veggie/Nut mixture with rice and grated cheese.

Note: Make a pot without Nuts.

Can go with 7680 pita bread halves and 168 lbs. of Tortilla Chips.

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**credit to MWMF kitchen, copied from the 16th edition(year1991)



Afterwards, watched some performances. Then watched some open mic and movies--relaying this info as I'm doing is boring the piss outta me as well as you I'm sure--damn me for not journaling last night when I would've had more to say about said events. *Donning hair shirt* Ended the night with some late-night chatting about social anxiety and lesbianism.

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My Buddhist Nightmare: Random Sidenote

So one of the first things I noticed in the Michfest program is that they have a workshop called BUDDHIST MEDITATION PRACTICE which states that you will learn a bit about Buddhist meditation and then practice meditating. I'm all about meditating and, having never done any BUDDHIST meditation, am curious to find out what it's all about.

So I drag my ass out of bed about 7:30 in the morning to make it to the meditation session which is at 8:30. I know you're not supposed to eat before meditating, but I realize I have to stop and grab SOMETHING to eat because otherwise, i'll be awake 5 hours before I actually am able to put some food in my stomach. So I weigh my two options and conclude that it's probably better for me to eat something and then meditate on a full stomach then not eat anything and be fixated on the fact that I'm MOTHERF-ING hungry the hour and a half I'm meditating. Well, I get in line--the food tent is supposed to open at 8, and it doesn't open til 8:20. I run my ass around jamming shit onto my plate and then book it off towards workshops, forking eggs and yogurt into my face while I speedwalk.

I get there and thankfully they haven't started yet. Already discombobulated, I sit down right BEHIND the instructor who I don't realize is, in fact, the instructor. She gives me a weird look and tells me I might be better off sitting somewhere where I can actually SEE something other than her back.

Good start. Very zen.

The workshop starts, the instructor talks real loosely about Buddhism and Buddhist meditation, telling me absolutely nothing that I didn't already know, so I'm a tad disappointed. And then she explains to us how to meditate and stuff and rings her cute lil' bell thricely, so I get re-excited about the prospect of meditating.

Now, mind you, meditation workshops are always a bit difficult at Michfest, especially if you're not a practiced meditator, simply because there's a LOT of fricking noise going on at all times--other workshops, women walking by chatting, tractors and stinkbuses driving disabled folks around. So if you're just learning, it's hard to focus. But I tried my hardest to shut out everything. I'm doing ok, feeling very peaceful, when all of the sudden I shift a bit and realize my right foot, which has been sitting under my left knee, has COMPLETELY fallen asleep. Not the pins and needles kind of sleepiness, but full fledged "my foot feels like some disembodied slab of meat when poked at by the big toe on my other foot" kind of asleep. And I hate when body parts fall asleep. I fear that they will not wake up. And I feel the immediate need to get some blood back in them. Which, when you're meditating, is difficult to do without bothering the piss out of everyone else.

So here I am, my foot completely asleep, quietly prodding at it with my other foot. Nonchalantly rubbing it with my hand as quietly as possible. Poking it. Jabbing it. Shaking it. Then the pins and needles start. Glory be. I am completely distracted, completely useless in the world of meditation.

Goddammit, I think to myself. Or Buddha dammit. Or something like that.

I give up on the attempts to actually get back on track, and by the time THIS session of meditating is over with, I've finally awoken my foot.

She then begins to show us how to do WALKING meditation--2 different kinds. I am intrigued and pumped to try it. We all stand up, turn to our left to walk in a circle around the wooded area, and the girl in front of me's ass crack is half-hanging out of her pants. It is a large crevasse. It is dark and hairy. It looks like something a troll would navigate its way through in an enchanted forest. I cannot take my eyes off of it.

Go figure, I have no problems seeing butt-nekkid women trouncing and flouncing all over the land all week. All the forms and figures make me so gloriously happy to see. And yet, there is something horribly vulgar and grotesque and mocking about an ass-crack half hanging-out of someone's pants.

Needless to say, the walking meditation does not go well. I am disturbed and yet drawn to the ass crack again and again. Repulsed. Compelled. Repulsed. Compelled. We walk for about 10 minutes and I TRY with all my might not to fixate on it, but I fail miserably. And so the session ends.

I am left thinking that I probably should just stick with Kundalini.

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MICHFEST 2005 (DAY 2)

(For those of you who never read about LAST year's Michfest, feel free to do so starting HERE and working your way through the week.)

DAY 2

It is absolutely fucking beautiful out. I woke up to the wind in the trees sounding exactly like rain against tarp. So imagine my surprise to be greeted with big joyous grinning sunlight, not a rain drop in the sky. Dragged my ass out of bed early, sometime around 7, and went to take a shower in the outdoor showers. Always fun taking a shower beneath rustling leaves and pure blue sky, surrounded by other naked women also taking their first shower of the day. I smelt and felt stinky and rank, so what turned out to be an ice cold shower actually hit the spot. Despite being blind as a bat and trying to shampoo my hair with conditioner, growing quickly infuriated with its inability to foam up and thankfully realizing my mistake, it was definitely the right way to start off the day. I ate a quick breakfast--granola and yogurt, canteloupe, and pb and honey on wheat bread. Then events ensued that I will now jot down as I must remember to torture E with (since he kept joking about how I was gonna end up shagging tons of ladies while at the fest): this stone cold beautiful chick sauntered up and hit on me. Let us set the scene:

(L, walking along the path briskly towards her morning workshop. Passes foxy chick who is asking a couple women where to locate coffee. Notes that chick is pretty damn foxy. Continues on to workshop. Foxy chick apparently heads off behind L to pursue her coffee. She speeds up 'til she's next to L, and then slows down to match L's pace. L catches a blur of her out of the corner of her eye.)

L (politely): Mornin'.

Foxy Chick (grinning): Hey. (pause) I was just walking behind you and thought, damn, this woman is bee-oo-tee-ful from behind. So I decided to catch up because I thought to myself, You've GOT to find out what she looks like!

L (laughing a bit, and uncharacteristically suave-like for once in her life): Huh! Well, I hope I didn't disappoint. (also grinning)

Foxy Chick (shaking her head energetically): Oh no! Not. At. All. You're BEAUTIFUL.

L (grinning like a big stupid embarassed idiot): Heh heh. Likewise. And thanks.

(Foxy Chick heads off for morning coffee. L continues on to workshop, grinning at the great story that she will have to share with E--getting hit on within an hour of awakening on my first morning in Michfest, AND by a stone cold foxy chick.)

/End scene

So the workshop. The workshop is on herbal medicine, and I learned that I need to get me some nettles and some dandelion root and some red raspberry leaves (among other things). Our instructor welcomes us with piping hot coffee which my eyes and body greet energetically, like a big fat erection. Or maybe, more aptly, a huge erect clit. =) I learn learn learn tons of new shit that perhaps I will reproduce here later in the week. Meet M for lunch and then roam around the crafts area (afternoon workshop--Tantric Sexuality--has been pushed back to later in the week) and find a gift for E IMMEDIATELY. I think he will love it. ~~Women are salsa dancing as I write this.~~ It is packed here this year. My feet are already completely filthy. Heh heh. Ah Michfest.

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Random Michfest Bursts

THINGS I CARRIED WITH ME AT ALL TIMES WHILE AT MICHFEST THIS YEAR

My little stadium chair thingie for sitting

A rain poncho

My tupperwarey dinner plate thing--a spoon and fork as well

IN BACKPACK:

Bugspray

Sunscreen

Water bottle filled with water

A book for leisure reading

My Michfest program (which lists all workshops and concerts to schedule your day)

My skirt-wrap

A warm jacket-thing of sorts

My notebook (for journaling and other such things)

My sketchpad

My wallet

My eyeglass case and contacts

My Diva Cup

Leg warmers

E's envelopes

Camera

THINGS THAT MICHFEST HAS HELPED REMIND ME:

I need to take better care of my body. I do not treat it like it deserves to be treated. This means that I am going to try to get off the BC pill, for one thing--I would like to go back to the natural and beautiful rhythm of the female body rather than have that rhythm be induced by chemicals. It also means that I am going to try to eliminate my daily pop intake from my routine and instead infuse my routine with good herbal concoctions to healthify myself.

I need to make a more conscious effort to surround myself with positive energies. Every one of us have enough negative energies to deal with on any given day that we don't have any control over (or limited control). So those negative energies that we DO have control over, we really should make an effort to purge from our daily lives. This means that I should not be wasting my time and energy on people who bring such negativity into my life and make me feel like garbage about myself more often than they make me feel GOOD about myself. I need to make a better space around myself that is filled with GOOD energy (a Michfest OUTSIDE of Michfest)--this is within MY control and I need to start MAKING it so.

I need to start appreciating and being more happy with my body. There are so many gorgeous women out there, so many different shapes and sizes, and so many of them who positively GLOW with self-love for their body, no matter WHAT it looks like and no matter whether or not it fits the stupid acceptable mold of beauty that the media jams down our throat. I must work harder at reaching this place myself. I must work to keep it healthy--exercise it and feed it good things. But I must not give it crap, because it is beautiful and it really does serve me gloriously, dammit.

I need to stop being so insecure about my feminism and rant and rage if/when I feel the need, motherfucker.

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MICHFEST 2005 (DAY 1)

I am officially back, so I must therefore say SUCK IT, SMP SMP, AT TO DEATH, etc. to those of you I haven't said these things to for over a week.

Phew. Much better.

Anywho, I've been gone the past week attending the Michigan Womyn's Music Festival again (for those of you who haven't noticed my absence). So, like last year, I will be posting my Michfest thoughts and ruminations on this here blog. Hope you enjoy...


DAY 1

6, 523 women this year. Fucking madness. Fucking beautiful lovely madness.

The drive went by like nothing, six hours in a blink. Was remarkably unsleepy despite only 4-5 hours of sleep last night. Did the usual routine--stopped for BK and Cinnabuns. Stopped at Subway once we hit Hart. A car full of Michfesters followed us the last hour. They waved with grins on when they finally drove past to check us out, and then fell back again to follow.

The line was UNBELIEVABLY long, despite us arriving at 1 pm. Women who've been coming for years have said they've never seen it so long--probably because it's the 30th anniversary and all that. It wrapped out onto the main road where we were windswept by semis shuttling past. Finally got inside about 6 pm. (That's 5 hours spent waiting in line with my car, for those of you who can't do the math.) Set up an excellent tenting area--tarped very nicely, thank you, especially after last years sopping soggy mess of a tent, a little seating area out front.

Dusk and then darkness.

When finally all set up, we sat out in the pitch black and shared some congratulatory beers and some chips and salsa while moths flit crazily about our heads and darted into and out of the light of the lantern. M's lantern lit the undersides of the leaves, making them look tipped in silver and making the forest look like a fairy land. A large angry bug chitted at me heatedly. The crickets were a warm harmony as we slipped into the midnight hour with good talk and good energies. Then a nice pre-sleep shit in the Porta-Janes, read the first of E's daily envelopes, listened to extremely large bugs do kamikaze dive-bombs into the sides of the tent, and fell into a restless night's sleep, full of energy and excitement for the oncoming day.

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Michfest (Days 7 & 8)

[At this point, I've run out of journaling steam and am just trying to hang on for dear life to the very tail ends of the festival, knowing damn well that I'm gonna have to head back home and back to reality in a few days.]

Day 7

It's the end of Day 7. I'm tired (and feeling a bit grouchy towards folks), my foot hurts, and I'm actually looking forward to going home (and the added perk of finally getting to see my fella after a whole week). I enjoyed my time here, but I think this is definitely something I'm not gonna do EVERY year.

[It serves its purpose and I ultimately end up enjoying myself. This year was no different. But this year was also a mish-mosh of mixed feelings. I swayed back and forth from feeling really centered and getting good feelings from the festival and being gung-ho in wanting to make it an annual thing to feeling as though something about it was off. This may just be because the last year was so perfect and I can't help but compare it to that, but last year I can't remember even the TINIEST bit of negativity coming from the women there (or from myself). And this year there seemed to be a tad bit more disrespect and disconnect (not in terms of anything major, but moreso in terms of people talking during shows, plunking down their big-ass chairs in front of you without making sure you can see, etc.).

But this could also be my own feelings being projected onto the festival... This year (despite being absolutely content with my love-life) I have a lot of really bad chaos and energies in my life at the moment--from my job, from some of the people I love, from issues that have arisen in my life over the past month. And the festival (try as it did) could not assuage them, and perhaps they spilled over into the festival itself. Perhaps I was not seeing quite so clearly as I could.

Strangely enough, one of the most centering moments of the festival was when I was feeling a bit of despair, a wee bit of disgruntlement, towards folks tonight--right then, I hit the last few pages of Franny & Zooey which I'd been working my way through all week (mostly during the monsoon rains). I was tremendously touched by the characters and by Zooey's advice:

"I was furious. The studio audience were all morons, the announcer was a moron, the sponsors were morons, and I just damn well wasn't going to shine my shoes for them, I told Seymour. I said they couldn't see them anyway, where we sat. He said to shine them anyway. He said to shine them for the Fat Lady. I didn't know what he was talking about, but he had a very Seymour look on his face, and I did it. He never did tell me who the Fat Lady was, but I shined my shoes for the Fat Lady every time I ever went on the air again...

...I'll tell you a terrible secret--are you listening to me? There isn't anyone out there who isn't Seymour's Fat Lady. That includes your Professor Tupper, buddy. And all his goddam cousins by the dozens. There isn't anyone anywhere that isn't Seymour's Fat Lady. Don't you know that? Don't you know that goddam secret yet? And don't you know--listen to me, now--don't you know who that Fat Lady really is? ...Ah, buddy. Ah, buddy. It's Christ Himself. Christ Himself, buddy."

For joy, apparently, it was all Franny could do to hold the phone, even with both hands.

This is one of the most tender endings to a book that I've ever read. And it seemed to speak to me right when I needed it the most, reminding me that this love for others', this respect for others, is NOT just a woman-thing and can and should be freed from Michfest to spill over into the real world.

I have to remember and embrace this, dammit. And then maybe other people will too.]

Performances I saw today:

The Drumsong Orchestra (headed by Ubaka Hill) which rocked;

Wise Fool New Mexico & Lava (two of the only all-women circus acts in the country);

The Closing Candlight Ceremonies.

Film I watched tonight:

Rise Above: The Tribe 8 Documentary

Day 8

Mama... mama, I'm coming home!

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Michfest (Days 5 & 6)

Day 5

I had THE freakiest experience in my camping history happen to me last night. I got jostled awake by what sounded like the plastic bags in my tent being rattled about. Since I've been having weird shit show up in my tent all week [salamander, spiders, etc.], it freaked me out, so after listening to the sound of footsteps which appeared to be coming from INSIDE my tent, I scrambled a bit hysterically for my eyeglasses and light, skittering back as far as I could from my bags. There was nothing IN my tent [thankfully] but I could hear footsteps (of an animal sort--as LEAST as big as a coon) circling my tent and apparently trying to find its way in. Finally after about five minutes I could sorta hear it wandering off. I of course had to pee terribly from being freaked out, but I also of course had no desire to be crouching in the dark with some freaky ass-biting animal with my lovely little cootch hanging out. Sweet relief FINALLY at the port-a-pots this morning.




* * * *

Let me prepare this with the following:

1) I DO think Michfest is a very useful, necessary, and pleasurable place, [so what I'm about to say is not intended to undercut any of this or imply that the festival is silly and/or idiotic, so please don't misunderstand].

2) Those of you who know me and (fortunately? unfortunately?) have had the opportunity to argue with me on occasion KNOW that I usually find myself defending radical feminism--arguing that while I may not AGREE with its tenets/views, I DO in fact still think it serves a great usefulness/purpose in today's society. I still believe this.

That being said, it frightens me to my very core to see women who are apparently unable to differentiate between a feminism that helps and a feminism that harms, between fighting against oppression so that women may have equal rights vs. portraying white males in generalities and stereotypes [that we would condemn if directed at us] and condemning white males across the board when what they SHOULD be condemning is the INSTITUTION OF PATRIARCHY.

This is what the first act of Hothead Paisan: (Homicidal Lesbian Terrorist), the play by Animal Prufrock that was put on tonight (based on the comic book character by Dianne DiMassa), was all about. And I could feel myself stiffen and clam up even after the first ten minutes. [(Not to mention that the musical just kinda stunk REGARDLESS of its politics--it had decent songs but it had no driving force or any semblance of a plotline for those unfamiliar with the comic.)]

In it, men are embraced as/depicted as stereotypes and only stereotypes--rapists, anti-lesbians, etc. And the only route the protagonist sees herself able to take against them is one of violence.

[These feelings of violence may accurately depict the outlet that many (but not all) women's frustrations take. But the portrayals of males do not allow for any sorta complexity in understanding them. And THAT is the route of its failure really. It is easy to hate something that is flat and uncomplicated--it is easy to hate the individual when essentially you are forcing them to symbolize a larger and more destructive institution.

As women, we would take offense to being stereotyped as gossipy and emotional and whatnot. These characteristics may be true for some women, but they are not accurate ACROSS THE BOARD. And that's the point. The same can be said for white males. Yes, there are white male rapists and yes there are white male lesbian-haters. But this does not accurately depict ALL males. And if the intent is to symbolize "patriarchy" THROUGH the male characters, it is a misguided one. Attack the institution, not ALL the individuals.]

[I think part of the problem is that the musical was first presented at an all women's music festival. There was no room for the "opposing" voice to be heard, no one to stand up for it and/or feel marginilized by it. And perhaps had there been workshops, perhaps if Animal or her crazy sidekick Susan Powter had offered up an opportunity to actually DISCUSS the play instead of just lounging about sucking up people's praise, I wouldn't have objected quite so much. But there wasn't. Not that the feelings in the play AREN'T legit in many ways. But I just feel that the voice/opinions expressed were wholeheartedly latched onto by everyone watching SIMPLY BECAUSE there was no hint of an opposing viewpoint present to challenge the views.]

Again, I must repeat: I understand the frustration among plenty of woman that this leaning towards violence reveals. And I understand and agree with the fact that it MAY in fact take violence (in thought, in word, and maybe even in deed sometimes) to bring about change if the only other option is quiet complacency. This is the reason I am intrigued by and in awe of bands like Tribe 8. Violence in thought and in word is not always a bad thing.

But if WE do not want to be stereotyped as WOMEN, if the lesbian community here doesn't want to be stereotyped as "dykes" and whatnot, if we want to be recognized for our individual (and maybe even our collective) beauty as women, then we must extend the same courtesy to males. To demonize males, lumping all of them into the category of white privileged male [which IS partially true--yes, they DO have a privilege that they need to be made aware of--but to DEMONIZE them because this is what they are while neglecting to note that many of them seek to actively help out the plight of women and lesbians] only commits the same crime it condemns. And what is the point of that?



Phew. Now that I've vented... the other things I did today:

I took an early morning Qigong class--I really enjoyed this last year when I took it as well, but since it was only 45 minutes long this time, it only gave me enough to whet my whistle.

I'd like to give a shout-out to Trillium Organics and their clementine-clove line--I ain't ever smelled nuthin' better, especially after emerging from the port-a-pots.

The sky was BRILLIANTLY clear tonight and I had the pleasure of watching it basked in the glow of fireworks and then bare as a baby's ass [later on]. The clearest I've EVER seen the milky way, no doubt. I only wish the skies were this clear and gorgeous back home.

I took a palmistry workshop--strangely enough the instructor [whose name I unfortunately have been unable to track down] is from Cleveland Hts. and we hit it off real well (as there were only five of us there). I've always loved palmistry and been intrigued by it ever since I was little. This woman had worked in Mexico for a lengthy time reading cards for a living but so many people expressed interest in palm readings that she decided to teach herself it. (Sidenote: It's loud tonight) I really enjoyed her energy and learning at least a TINY bit more about the whole palmistry thang.

I like sesame-seed rice cakes with natural peanut butter and honey on them a HELL of a lot.

Workshops I took today:

Qigong (9:30 - 10:15);

Palmistry (2:30 - 3:30).

Performances I watched today:

God-Dess and Tina G (which was actually a really good hip-hop show though I can't seem to find their web page);

Jamie Anderson;

Karen Williams (comedian);

Rocio Mendoza (who is a DAMN hottie);

Hothead Paisan (The First Act) by Animal Prufrock (formerly of Bitch & Animal.





Day 6

There may be nothing better than dark woods, a crystal clear night sky, and a head full of good thoughts.

Workshops I went to today:

Michigan Festival Herstory and Lore.

Performances I saw today:

The kick-ass Bitch (formerly of Bitch & Animal);

The Dolly Ranchers;

JUCA;

Kate Clinton (comedian);

Laura Love.

Things I bartered at the Barter Market today and what I got in return:

Bartered a lamp --> got a large candle and one of those wooden statues of the man rolled up in a ball (hard to explain and I'm not sure what they're called exactly--you'd probably know 'em if you saw 'em).

Bartered a recipe-box full of recipes for organic/natural beauty products (such as facial scrubs, lip balms, etc.) --> got two homemade lip balms (cocoa butter flavors) and a lip gloss (orange-flavored) and two homemade edible oils *twirling moustache mischievously* (strawberry-chocolate and mango).

Bartered a roll of plaster-casting strips --> got a kick-ass pair of *drum roll* nipple clamps. S&M dungeon, here I come!

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Michfest 2004 (Days 1 & 2)

I've finally returned. (No applause necessary.) While I recuperate over the next week and return to my normal work-induced funk, I will be posting the journaling I did while I was at Michfest so you can read all about it. Hope you enjoy.



Day 1

Day one is over with and I'm not nearly as pumped and energized as I was last year. Maybe this is because the festival came last year at a point when my life was in an upheaval and it offered me a way of centering myself and resecuring my sense of independence. This year I am in a relationship that I couldn't be happier about. I am in love. Things are good between us. And so I don't feel an itch to run off on my own quite so much... In fact, more than anything I wish he was a big ol' dyke so I coulda dragged him with me--not seeing him for a whole week doesn't seem worth it, especially since he seems to be doing a better job centering me/calming me than being here probably will. But damn if it doesn't make me miss and appreciate him.

This is good.

I HAVE come here this year with things that I really wanna escape from, but the problem is (unlike last year) I have full knowledge that they are problems that just aren't gonna up and disappear with a *poof* while I'm here. They are just being put on hiatus for the week, and so I don't feel like I'm gonna come out quite so centered. Here's to hopin' though...

* * * *

We woke up late today--supposed to leave at 4:15 but left at 6:30. I think this actually worked out very much to our benefit as we were all much more energized and hopeful on the drive out.

--Dammit, I already have 'squito bites!--

It rained like a slit-open udder on the way here--it had me worried. But then, just as we got our car in line, grace. It cleared up and the sun poked its head out.

We were in line for over three hours, but it never seems so long. We gawked at folks, played cards, bullshit. It was good.

I am not eager to work a workshift here. Perhaps this is just because it's my first week off of work since last year at this time, and I DON'T WANNA SPEND IT WORKING!!!! I may just end up doing security for the acoustic stage overnight which, if anything like last year, will just entail me sleeping uncomfortably and fitfully on a stage-area.

I am not too pleased at the selection of workshops this year either. There seemed to be tons of better ones last year. Perhaps it is just because this year lacks the spark of novelty, but the ones I wanted to do last year I've done. And the ones I didn't have a chance to do aren't being offered this year. And I am finding myself inexplicably perturbed and disgruntled at the topics of some that are wasting perfectly good space--6th Annual Hurt by the Christian Church/Organized Religion workshop, for example. I am also feeling--dare I say it?--a wee bit marginilized this year because the workshops seem to be so lesbian-centered. This is not a fault of the festival, just something that doesn't serve much use to me--workshops on strap-ons will only do me so much good, for example, because it's only discussed in female-female scenarios. But fuck it (pun totally not intended but appreciated)--I may bite the bullet and take Back-Door Basics (an anal sex workshop--tee hee) despite the fact that it may also be a bit far-removed from my hetero lifestyle...

Ah, E. Where are ya when I need ya? ; )

I hope tomorrow will have me feeling a bit more excited. I did remember why I missed the food so much again tonight. This may make up for my other misgivings.

Addendum:
It's 11:20. I just went to pee outside the tent. The stars are brilliant and weaving in and out of the swaying tree branches so it looks just like each one's shooting.

This makes it worth it.


Day 2

When you're camping in the woods and it rains, you can hear the water topple down through each level of leaves before it finally hits your tent. I suppose I'd be much more appreciative of this fact though IF IT HADN'T BEEN RAINING SINCE 7 AM THIS MORNING AND MY TENT WEREN'T LEAKING EVERYWHERE AND I HADN'T HAD TO SKIP MY THREE-HOUR KUNDALINI YOGA CLASS BECAUSE OF THE WEATHER. This is definitely not zen, let me tell you. And this in turn wouldn't be so bad if I had my SO here because then we could just shag ourselves into forgetting and not giving a shit that we're laying in a messy wet nasty heap of tent with everything piled up into the middle to keep it dry.

It better stop raining soon and get sunny, dammit!

* * * *

Almost 8:30 PM and it's still raining. My tent is a big damp heap. Each time I come in I have to clean up another dozen streams and puddles with toilet paper. It is also cold which is making us ALL crabby. It really better warm up and stop raining because I don't think we'll make it through five more days of this. At least I won't.

I want to yoga tomorrow, for God's sake! And I want sun on my tits before I leave or else an ass-kicking is in store.

* * * *

11:45. Still raining. I just "brushed" my teeth with a moist towelette that was given to me by E over a year ago. Weird how these things come in handy at the strangest of times.

If I wake up in a puddle, I'm gonna hurt someone.


Workshops I took today:

Oops. I lied. I didn't take any workshops today...


Performances I saw today:

C. C. Carter

Deb Filler in "Filler Up!"

Films I Saw Tonight at the Film Fest:

Michigan Fever!

The Nearly Unadventurous Life of Zoe Cadwaulder

April's Shower

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