Randomness

To get these off my hard drive, mostly.

doomdoomdoomdoom, cabaret zombie and teeth brusher extraordinaire

Driving around on a golf cart with my fellow camp placer was about the most fun I had, there…completely not my “vibe” or “scene…”

.

Unlike Alchemy, say, where I can don my best moustache for hilltop weddings:

That was actually my first moustache…ah, Doom. I miss her so.

Schpeaking of Alchemy…Sunday night was pretty awesome. Sunday nights always are. I don’t know why. Everybody’s full of happy burn time, only the cool people are left, whatever…I don’t know. It was actually miserable, weatherwise. Poooouuuuurrring rain, and cold.

Center Camp Mistress organized a potluck, which was just a smash. People brought leftovers, grills and stoves, we had everything from chips and dip to fresh curry to ice cream.

Drinking, of course, APW brought the Totherightoftheeffigy Bar down.

RnGRS 4-EVAH

Deliciouso!

Bartending for the masses

Alchemy + Sunday = art burn

Bleeder track, CampCamp animals and ?

We had fun, tossing stuffed animals into the inferno. In the rain.

Umbrella Camp FTW!

Tunnas like water.

Ranger Rack, pontificating

Me et Ranger Rack, smiling in the dark

I found this tableau terribly ironic. That was one major spoiler, of the potluck, was the mess people left.  A Burning Man cup from 2003, boldly proclaiming LEAVE NO TRACE on top of a very dirty, cluttered potluck table. My co-life saver helped me clear it off, and we dragged it into the rain for a washing (melted ice cream = crappy potluck donation, but he gladly, when we found him, took the boxes to the fire).

Eh honhonhon, un petit pou tequila pour vous, n’est pas? Non, je pense c’est rum. Mmm…rum…pirates…YERRR!!!

Many modeled the latest in garbage bag wet weather wear. Ooo la la! Tres chic!

Philosopher’s Stone had a teeny little printer, and was able to take pictures and give people copies on the spot. It was neat!

I love this picture for the company with which I keep, within it. He and I have shared quite the adventures, on the mountain and in the middle of the desert.

The glorious end. I also have a sticker that says “THE REGAL” on my bathroom wall. And the draft of what I’d originally written, a few days after Alchemy:

Alchemy was awesome, in so many ways, on so many levels; some I will manage to put into words and/or photos, others will remain buried in my psyche.

THIS is decomp, right here…the surreality of standing in my living room last night, sitting on Chris’ couch, the loudness of the silence…when I got back from Burning Man, I felt nothing. “How’s your decomp going,” I was asked. He got a shrug. Back to work and Taco Night.

But now…I sit here at work feeling full of this wonderful secret…like when I wear my rubber duckie panties under my work clothes…nobody knows why I’m smiling, but I feel great.

Well, actually, I don’t feel great. I feel achy, exhausted, congested and sore.

Anyways. The following is a list for me, to try and remember what I might blog about. Well, screw it. Let’s start with Sunday night.

I don’t know why Sunday nights are so great…sure, some of the greatness is the fact it is “One-percenters,” as a passerby noted. Maybe people are just…calmer. Like, it is all over, now. We can relax and just hang out without putting on a show, or a costume…I know I felt great, wearing normal clothes. I felt WARM, wearing normal clothes, ha ha. “You’re wearing a bra??” someone brayed, dismayed. Yeah, and I’m WARM! Unlike the previous night of flounces and garters and cleavage, wherein I was shivering in my coat, under a blanket. Lying on the ground.

 Yeah, for the last two nights, I found myself being “one of those.” Lying around on the ground, canoodling under a blanket, half passed-out…lying around in the Wonder Dome, marveling at the  abject awesomeness of it all (and canoodling) – laughing hysterically at the silliest stuff. And ya know what? I liked it.

“…rangers are born, not made. When an Ewok and a unicorn love each other…bechawawa!”

“What does a chihuahua have to do with it?”

…oooo, the Wonderdome is wonder-full. Especially when the rain is whipping around outside, cold and frenzied.

My half-moustachio’d friend had had a full day of…let’s say hooliganry. It started in the morning, with a Pixies sing-a-long. Then standing by the road, howling poetry and rambling stream of conciousness. Like a mad prophet wandering in the desert.

“TAKE YOUR HIPPIE ASS CRAP AND GET THE HELL OUT! TAKE THEM RHYMING WORDS AND FUCK OFF!” <—me and my megaphone

He wandered up. “Do you have a drink? If you want me to shut up, you have to put something in my mouth…” as he rambled on about dicks and butt plugs, I made him a drink of cherry vodka and blue Boone’s Farm.

Later that evening, at the “Art Burn,” he was kneeling on the ground singing Good Day to some glowing, bright orange coals – the first line or two. Egged on by the stars I belted out, “…I took out the trash today and I’m on fire…”

A guy came over asking something about “…the voice of an angel…” (which I definitely don’t have, but was tickled to no end to hear said), recognized me (from what?) and started saying something about how if I’m “as obnoxious next year…”

I laughed, commenting to my compatriots, “He thinks I’m obnoxious!” (They disagreed.)

“If you could be even MORE obnoxious next year….” he continued. At this point my friend came running up with headphones. “In honor of the show we saw together!”

He had it on Girl Anachronism. I bounced out into the rain, away from the fire, to have a moment with Amanda. It was AWESOME. The whole Dresden Dolls exchange there, for a few minutes…egads. There is so much left to tell – from just Sunday, but I fear it really isn’t very interesting to read, as a recap.

campCamp was so much fun. They did an amazing job building it, and sitting around harrassing people. Here’s two distance shots:

I enjoyed harrassing the Lamplights, as they lit the end of the path, there. “Ooooh, yeah, just like that…easy…easy…don’t drop it! Yeah…there you go (as they slid it onto the pole)…” Etc.

DOOM was up in those woods, there, behind the couch. The couch was perfect for watching Dale Jr. on the TV we had – yes, it worked. Hilarious. People were like, “You should have emptied it out and used it as a frame or something…” Yeah. No. TV in the woods was much funnier.

“Welcome to CampCamp. Now get out.”

You can also see, there on the right, the hunting blind.

Now, see it in action!

I couldn’t beg people to sign up for CampCamp! this year. I think Transformus will be a very different story!

Wednesday night

 

Right-o. So, here’s some more pictures from Alchemy 2009:

Wednesday morning. The “critical infrastructure.” (Ha.). Center Camp and Lamplighters Camp – and “First Camp,” there on the rightest side. The blue and white bus I drove to Burning Man in. It is a far cry from the first year, when Thursday morning was just the stage – that you can’t see in this picture, for all the finery and doo-dahs. Nary a tent.

Lamplighters really came together this year, with a big ol’ tent, lovely robes, flaggery and really beautiful graphic work, courtesy of NatX.

I helped too! Screwin’ and nailin’  – and then I helped APW build stuff!

We are all The Man.

Welcome to Alchemy! Now get out.

The Effigy had minions:

They were well supervised, of course:

These kids really worked hard –

who knew teenagers had the capacity to not be self-serving little shits (aside from any parents who might be reading this…your kids are sooo great!)?

Wednesday night was the mini burn. Leftover effigy scraps reattached into a mini effigy, courtesy of one Mr. Tunna Kerosene.

It was also drag night, but I was the only one who got the memo.

Or who had time to comply, at least. Wearing warm clothes with pockets was pretty great! Down the road, in LaFayette, there’s a lost and found baggage store. It is way over-priced, but chock-full of randomness. You can totally tell when one person lost a suitcase, there’s a rack of similiar stuff – like at a thrift store, you can tell when someone died and the family donated everything…back to fire.

One of the DSB mainstays built a great couch:

NatX, when not lighting lamps and making flags, had his face in a camera all week:

Chesire is to his ___ as NatX is to his camera…

I actually went to bed fairly early…my last chance for a full night’s sleep!

Katamari Origami!

So, one of my busmates to the playa was the sweetest, cutest little slip of a thing – she of the nifty clay pendants pictured previously. She also made little origami balls – but BM? Pshaw, Alchemy! Alchemy has the biggest balls of all!

 

 

Also, DOOM!

Links du jour

I suppose I feel lonely and mopey, so I’m crawling back down inside myself – it looks rather unlike the outside. Though I find entertainment and amusement in ….well, according to other people, “sick,” “abrasive,” “insane,” “weird” shenanigans, I take comfort and seek solace in beauty – esp. that of simplicity. So, here is what I’m poking around today:

I’ve learned there’s a whole “tiny house” or “small house” movement. Me, I have always (no, seriously, since I was a child) yearned to be a gypsy (racism!). Like these house trucks.

Somebody at Alchemy had the sweetest little white trailer/camper, small and round.  Ever since I saw Kitchen Stories I’ve been sort of intrigued by that particular shape of camper.

(How sweet is that pram??)

My little car wouldn’t pull something like that, though. At best, perhaps when my sassy little bug gives up the ghost, I’ll get something I can camp out the back of. Someone I know has a…boxy car thingie. He puts the seats down for a mattress and covers the rear end with an EZ Up, walls of pretty fabric, et voila. It grows evermore tiresome to do all this packing and unpacking and setting up and tearing down and repacking blah blah blah by myself.

So sleep in a hammock!

Uh, no.

…nevermind. I am so horrible about personal blogging. So I’m going back to faerie tales, gypsy trailers (or vardos*, as they are actually called. I love me some learnin’. Maybe one day I will meet someone who can help me build a small one.), hobbit homes and midsummer’s night dreamings.

*Heh, one site joked about the “period police.” No, not people that wander around making sure tampons are in place. People who say things like, “A 14th-Century lady most certainly would NOT have worn a whalebone hoopskirt in lieu of an empire waist – that brocade’s thread count is WRONG!”**

**Yes, I actually say things like that. Just in my head, and not to other people.

I think one thing that draws me to the SCA – and burners, come to think of it – is their love of doing things just for the sake of doing them. Like the guys with the “vardo” links, admitting the vardos aren’t period, but a “bender tent” is. And here they are, making one. I mean, who does that?? When you can set up a few poles and some nylon and be done with it in a few minutes? Who spends every day of a year working towards something that will be around for a few days, and then gone forever?

Awesome people, that’s who.  And hey, they live in Georgia somewhere!

Not to mention burly men in kilts, mead and fire. Heck yeah. Next year, Pennsic. BRC can have itself. I’ll take the Renaissance over a rave any day!

I think I have an art project.

Inspired by my little forest of doom, Coil and the Wonderdome. I don’t know where my head will be next year, or if I’ll be able to find people to help me bring it together (all the electrical sound/noise/lighting, I can make props and plan it all out), but here’s a few of the songs inspiring it:

 

I think this year I will try to invest in a projector of some sort. I so do love film, the cinema, movies, la la la, and projecting Haxan into the woods would be so fantastic….

Maybe, first, I should clean my house. Make sure the floor is still there under piles of fabric scraps and laundry and to-do lists.

I just like saying “trebuchet.”

I like pretty much any word that makes me sound smarter than you.

Whilst cleaning the burn scar from the Temple Burn atop Effigy Hill, someone commented next year, whoever builds the effigy has to use dowels. No screws and nails and other things one must go back and painstakingly remove from the ground. This led to all the non-metal ways to construct something – my contribution was a temple made out of a refridgerator box.

“A cardboard temple!”

And a cardboard trebuchet.