PHOTOS FROM MUTAYTOR AT DARK SKIES ~ NEVADA ~ 21-22 MAY ~ ARE HERE
(click here to read an article on mutaytor at dark skies)
writing by campfire with two pink roses in my hair. everywhere i am home, with these people old and new, with this music bouncing off the land. dancers with full movement sweep energy round. it comes off as sparks and permeates into everyone. this is life, right here… fuzzy caterpillars 4cm long capture my attention. sacred space is made. we are all barefoot in sand, surrounded by flowing skirts, boa feathers, fox tails and the dj pulses most sensually atop the hill keeping safe the night and holding dawn away for just a while longer. dogs with paranormal eyes, virgin poi and long hair beating against hyper bodies…
sitting on a cold bench at a train platform eating goldfish. burbank is a mirage. jagged ascending rows of houses across foggy nearby mountainscapes. i’ve arrived too early. last night i dreamt that i was standing on the big toes of giants and if i jumped just right, they lifted me up. at first jump they were hard as stone but with each successive jump they turned warm and real.
my suitcase with tent and air mattress is always bedside. i barely have time to do laundry and repack before i’m off again. weekends are my time for exploration, to get lost in the world, to be affected by new places and new people, to take risks, to experience strange circumstances. i live like this because i know what stagnancy feels like and it violently disagrees with me. the concept of travel fascinates me. to transport yourself from some place familiar to alien territory through machines… to BE something in progress… the excitement of arrival, the satiated feeling of one long full day lived wide-eyed.
as i get older i get more patient with processes. i realize i have choices on how i react to things in this world. i recognize the power of negativity, how, like ripples, it affects others and how dangerous it grows… problem-solving and patience… these are the things i’ve been working on consciencely for nearly a decade now. i can feel the desire to fix things settling softly within me. to WANT to chage is change itself. just by turning the spotlight on the darker parts within me and practicing dealing with things differently, i seem to have erradicated it. avoidance just made it grow bigger, deeper.
in one month i will be 32 years old… i should be a mother by now… as time goes on, it’s a reoccurring pulse, one that i hope i don’t tempt to leave me by forcing it to lie dormant for a few years longer… i am aware that my days of freedom, of impulsiveness, are numbered by my future motherhood, 3-4 years away… and because of that i live out of my suitcase. because of that i have no choice but to live feverishly now…
brady by tony, taken at dark skies last week
PHOTOS FROM THE E3 PARTY ON 18 MAY ARE HERE
we’re staying at buffalo bill’s where bonnie & clyde’s original bullet-laden car is prominently displayed. brady and i circled it in awe, noticing the gunshot holes on the passenger side of the car where the bullets passed thru their bodies. roo won $1,000 on a wheel of fortune game last night. brady, jealous, played $20 of roo’s winnings… to no avail. casinos are a strange music. a sinister greed. i have a 5-minute threshold inside them before i go mad and have to run outside. old women on oxygen tanks feeding hundreds of dollars into these machines in rooms void of sun or time….
chalky bare feet on hotel rug, the hum of the soda machine down the hall. like rockstars we take over the hotel. four people to a room. we throw things at each other in restaurants, borrow glitter make-up and clothes like siblings. crunchy whips out the mutaytor LLC credit card and treats us to dinner.
mutaytor headlined another great show last night… (the 4th mutaytor event i’ve captured this week alone, 3,400 total images…) the bright full moon shone down on us and much rocking did happen. brady leaned over to kiss me thru his drumkit while playing. he then ran to breathe fire 30 feet in the air, spinning and falling down and making trails of fire backwards… i screamed encouragement from the stage and attacked his lamp oil lips at the end of the show. some strangers scared me last night. they said they knew me, touched my hair, held my hand and when it got too much i ran away. brady turned protective in his face from the stage and i worried he might pummel these boys. the makeshift hay cart / stage proved too bouncy to shoot from. i helped al finish his glinlivet while he played. afterwards bryan and i had our usual show-lin tournament, high on the energy created. like brattish siblings, we attack each other in play fighting. eventually this ended up with him carrying me like a loaf of bread to crunchy. “you want this?” and then passed me off like a pizza pie. she carried me to brady and we ran out far into the abyss to watch our moonlit shadows make love right there out under the big night sky. the separated earth beneath us and the mad love and celebration created by their music was all around us and made us drunk (that and the blessed glinlivet!)
i watch shadows now turn crisp as the morning climbs to 110 degrees and everyone else sleeps. i am thankful to not be sweltering in a tent right now. crunchy thinks of everything. god, i love these people!!
i read a book now on surrealist art. the cover is of a woman with butterflies coming out of her mouth.
“it is the artist’s task to create fruit, like a tree,” jean arp… who, as a child, used to paint the lower part of his window blue so that the houses he looked out on would seem to be floating in the sky… i love that…
“photography is a kiss given by time and light,” – manray