Many bits of it remain hazy; however, I somewhere began being involved with this guy that I found extraordinarily attractive. After flirting with him for quite some time and letting tension build up over a long period of time, we both pounced on each other in a mad embrace. While our tongues were in twined with each other, my lover began taking his finger and scrubbing the scum off my teeth.
For this I take as a sign as a need to continue my independence through singularity. Relationships at this time are a distraction from fully enjoying this world, involving unnecessary complications that can detract from the beautiful environment at hand. In addition, a relationship can be seen as a threat to my confidence and self-love, taking the risk that this one might tear you down. At this point, I am proud of who I am, what I have accomplished, the things I've seen, the things of experienced, the opportunities that have been presented to me. Remain independent, remain a free spirit.
After leaving this situation and slightly startled, I finally made my way to the festival, the campground similar to that of Camp Zoe. It began with a nostalgia hue, coming up to the top of a hill and looking down on a scene viewed through the lens of the 60s and 70s, antique coloring and all. All the folks rested upon the hill, socialized on the picnic tables, and sang a long with the acoustic band that had inspired the moment.
Taking in the view, I began to tear up thinking to myself that people have found this enjoyment and celebration of life for years before. How naive was I to have thought this was something new. Unlike every other artistic outlet (and yes, I'm biased), music truly has the power to bring people together in its most natural sense, strangers exchanging words, musicians expressing emotions, everyone having the freedom to be themselves in its entirety. How often do you have the opportunity to sit around and just talk. be open and honest, all forgiven and excused, and listen to music in such a beautiful setting?
It may be possible that one of these guys saw my reaction and approached me, wondering where I had been last year - they had been looking for me. I may have replied that I was traveling elsewhere and began exchanging adventures and opportunities that had happened to cross our paths, as we walked around the festival together, admiring the intricate costumes and decorations of Egyptian theme (?).
I soon began to notice that there were many older, mature men in suits and ties standing near the sides and equipment. I commented that no one at a festival should be wearing a suit and tie, except for maybe an exquisitely patterned sport jacket. As I looked a little closer, however, even though the jackets looked rather dull and business-like, the patterns were in fact subtle, delicate, and elaborate. I began to continue on my travels in order to not overstay my welcome with the professionals and continued to enjoy the festival.
Three of the men I had at one time or another met approached me and began a conversation, with a realization down the line that they were the ones that put on the festival. These three guys were older, wiser, with kind faces, the faces of men that truly had enjoyed their lifetime - genuine smiles. We climbed into a VW bus, which in actuality was full sized. They explained that one guy handled the finances, one handled the artists, and the other handled the legality and permits. The three men came to the realization that my business was the festival business.
My dream then trailed off into logistics - its difficult to make a living off of throwing festivals, unless it was a monthly event - and even then it would be difficult.
Logistics, logistics - as Hunter S. Thompson concluded in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas at the abandoned gas station is that the dream is to do what you love. So here we go.