Readjustment to the "DEFAULT" world (part 1)

I wish I could tell you that any of the photos in this post are my own. Unfortunately, the exact location of our camera is currently unknown. It did not return with us in our checked or carry-on luggage, so our most hopeful scenario is that during the insanity of breakdown I packed it somewhere in our bins on the PEX shipping container and I will find it sometime after this Sunday when we get them back. Worst case scenario is that the silly little dust-proof, water-proof camera I bought only a couple months prior is lost. Either way, I'll find out soon enough.

For now, here is a brief synopsis of Burning Man 2012; Fertility 2.0, illustrated in part by several collected photos and video from the lovely folks that shared this epic week with us. May I present: Readjustment to the "DEFAULT WORLD", part 1.

Oh, what fun.

Putt Putt Playa, featuring Frank's Kitchens and DJ "Cardboard" Lee Mayjahs,

Burning Man 2012, Black Rock City, NV

(Photo courtesy of Bill Wynes)

The thing about this particular place and it's adventures is that chances are, if you do it the way we do, you're out in the desert for quite some time. The environment is harsh - dry, intense heat during the day and freezing temperatures at night. If you don't know that you should be drinking ridiculous, almost vomit-inducing amounts of water all day long, you will probably become dehydrated. Even if you do know this, chances are you'll have a day here or there where you aren't feeling so hot and are possibly in a not-so-great mood. The event of Burning Man spans such a length of time that you end up running the whole gamut of human emotions and physical conditions as you adjust and adapt to the weather, environment, and temporary constructs of this giant little city. Everyone, for the most part, who is there for an extended period of time, has a bad day — usually once you're at the end of your rope, the one tethered to "reality" and the rest of the normal functioning world. Here you are, in the middle of the god damn desert, the middle of nowhere, incredibly far away from home, eating a can of Spaghetti-O's for breakfast. It's 110 degrees out (dry heat, so your sweat evaporates before you know you're sweating) and your tent is a nylon greenhouse, entirely too hot to sleep in right now, you stayed up too late the night before partying, and dang: you kinda feel like shit.

But you take care of it, or yourself (or someone else does), and you recover. Then once you're back home, maybe you choose to remember all your amazing, fantastic moments from the 7 days you were part of Black Rock City and all it's glory, instead of the day you got too hot or the morning you couldn't sleep thanks to Bubbles and Bass and their 5am - till - noon champagne dance party. Oh, the bass. I hope you like bass (the musical kind of course, because BRC is a little dry for the aquatic variety)... and if you don't, I hope you remembered Valium and earplugs.

But then there are all the wonderful things. Here are some of mine, illustrated through the eyes of my camp-mates' cameras and more, plus my wordy commentary, the extended version...

Welcome home! Look how happy we are. And still so clean. ;) 
(Photo courtesy of Miss Andria Key)

Vegetarians for bacon! At Burning Man, that is. Normally, my ideal diet is primarily plant-based, augmented by fish and other sea creatures on occasion. (I'm from Florida; I've tried the actual vegan/vegetarian thing and it's not my bag. I love fish too much.) However, two years prior, I cracked after 4 days in the desert and eating bacon made me feel human again. Burners do love their bacon. This go-around I didn't go out of my WAY to eat bacon... but if it was offered to me I took it. Just ate the pigs, wasn't really interested in birds and can't do red meat just like that out of nowhere. (That's a sure-fire recipe for a tummy-ache and maybe much more, which is very unpleasant without running water and flushable toilets.) This shot is from Andria, the lovely cherry-clad lady on the right, as we make a Shari sandwich immediately after I was handed a spicy, strong Bloody Mary during our Monday morning camp set-up, within which there was a delicious, protein packed morsel of bacon-wrapped shrimp floating about. Breakfast and cocktails, all in one. (Thanks Cameron! That bevvy made it all happen.)

 

  The shiny ladies showing off the goods at Gold Bikini Cocktail Hour. 

Ahemm... ZOOM; ENHANCE.

(Photo courtesy of Miss Patty Rice.)

I did not bring a gold bikini. That means my fabulous golden outfit was pulled out of NOWHERE. A mish-mash of pieces of other outfits meant for some other moment; I did well, I thought, save for the red and black bandana. (Should have switched it out for a black one, but it went with my previous and following outfits for Thursday, which was also "red" day in my outfit planning schedule, apparently.) I was only able to make it happen with, of course, a little help from my friends. Thanks, Geri, for the sexy, see-through, golden bikini top. Option from Geri number two was golden pasties, which I was actually going to wear first, but I lacked the proper tape (which did NOT come in the box, thank-you-very-much.) So, see-thru glimmery teeny bikini it was. That is officially the closest anyone got to viewing my nipples. Luckily the golden spectacle was well-documented, so you can almost see my nipples forever, etched in digital film. (Cue obligatory CSI/SVU techno joke - "Now for that special, magic fantasy button that clears up shoddy low-res photos...zoom in, now  ENHANCE. Yes, now ENHANCE again. Perfect.") 

(Of course these are probably all amazing resolution, this is 2012, but I just couldn't help making an "enhance button" joke that references a grainy photo and my own boob.)

 

 Makin' faces at Bill (during Gold Bikini Cocktail Hour at Rat Camp. Feelin' saucy.) 

(photo courtesy of Bill Wynes)

So I will take full responsibility for the following "pants accident" that occurred the sunny, golden Thursday afternoon of Gold Bikini Cocktail Hour. Hosted by our friendly frisky neighbors, this was evidently a pre-planned Cocktail Hour (of the golden variety) and was a very brief walk or ride just on the fringe of PEX Village (I'd say the suburbs, maybe) and took place roundabouts 5pm on Thursday afternoon.  Alex, pictured next to me above, I think was also not aware of the event prior to our hurried pre-Playa packing, and also did not bring a gold bikini. He did, however, have a smashing silvery-gold vest (very nice, not too expensive, vintage and sexy enough to go with the ladies gold bikinis and the men's golden spandex) which paired well with white sailor pants (the pre-worn variety) from the army-navy store here in Philly, I-Goldberg, and which have accentuated many an outfit since their purchase.

Fritz, of our Golden Bikini hosts (Rat Camp/Theme of the Moment Camp, and whatever else they happened upon during the week) was in his usual over-excitable, happy but kind of devious form that accompanies such pre-planned Playa activities. Because participation out there is half the experience, but you can't expect everyone to have planned ahead as well as you have, Fritz happened to be running around with, just in case, a can of gold spray paint, offering to spray anyone's ... well, anything ... had they come to Gold Bikini Cocktail Hour unprepared. Little Krystena had sacrificed a well-loved boot to Frtiz's golden mania, and now sported a single flash of gold, emerging from the dust caked on her once-black Playa boots, and seemed pleased with herself and its results. I, finally coming back to reality from my mid-week low days of dehydration and lack of proper sleep/food/etc, had a flash of "genius," no doubt tainted slightly by the sparklingly sweet golden bikini cocktail I had already began consuming. Alex's white pants, I thought excitedly, were altogether too white! Too white for Gold Bikini Cocktail Hour, indeed! Wouldn't they look smashing in another shade?? GOLD, perhaps?? 

In my mind, four days into this Mad Max adventure, this gorgeous city covered in sparkles, rainbow LED's, leather, feathers, dust, dust, and more DUST, I convince myself quickly that this stroke of genius is indeed a smashing idea and grab my hubby, start gesturing wildly and harassing our golden-inspired host to make my husbands pants GOLD, not white but GOLD! You must, they are FAR too white, and this is Gold Bikini- Freaking Cocktail Hour, god freaking golden dammit. We're all so bloody GOLD that this is like the end of the double hippie rainbow in Emerald City, what does it all MEAN (??!!) and everyone that's been there at least 3 (if not many more) days is well on their way to losing their minds. I most certainly am. I learned the first go around that strange and amazing things happen on Thursdays in Black Rock City, but you have to crack first. And possibly make some bad decisions, like convincing someone to spray paint my husband's white (absorbent poly-cotton blend) sailor pants gold. Especially when he turns him around and in an only half-amused haste, decides to only paint part of his pants gold. The part right around his ass. Two hastily sprayed golden circles , one for each butt cheek.

Needless to say, the pink-mohawked husband was not amused, and it took his tipsy, golden-tittied wife awhile to realize she had just thrown his wonderful white sailor pants into the belly of the beast, tossed them under the golden bikini bus, never to be the same again. This caused some tension and later, sincere apologies on my part, for it really (as so many things do) seemed like a great idea at the time.  (No matter, for I have promised him new white sailor pants and I intend to hold up my end of the bad-idea bargain.)

 

Long live Wiener Camp!

(photo courtesy of Randi Sether)

 Within Putt Putt Playa, my home away from home on the Esplanade at Black Rock City - was a smaller, more intimate camp that developed throughout the week. Our little compound became henceforth known as Wiener Camp, due to our propensity to dispense wieners, usually of the hot-dog-flavored variety, to visitors, friends, passersby, and the like. The wieners were brought to said camp by its inhabitants, and once these were consumed, more and more weenies of all varieties were brought to Wiener Camp by its friendly neighbors. Wieners were happily scarfed, by all, on the regular. Even veggie wieners were enjoyed by those who do not normally consume regular weenies (myself included, and possibly exclusively). One of the most enthusiastic Wiener Camp members, Randi (who may or may not moonlight occasionally as the heathen known to some as BAD BUNNI) discovered the above "Art piece" somewhere in deep playa and tried to bring it back to Wiener Camp to its inhabitants, in true weenie camp spirit (considering the consistency)... but found herself unable to do so. If only Bad Bunni had been there to assist her, perhaps the mission may have been more successful. 

 Hey, where is everybody? 

(Photo courtesy of Patrice Caron)

This shot, included simply for reference, is a strangely empty shot of our camp (must be before we got there...before the real party started) from one of my PPP camp mates (Meg perhaps?); the infamous, the easy, the never-ending, the around-the-clock sets by world class DJ's (Cardboard Lee Mayjahs) — just set-it-and-forget it, fun for all ages, mini-golf extravaganza that was Putt Putt Playa.

That's us! The epic fire conclave performances around the man right before the big burn.  
A crazy night for the rest of the population when the performers are sometimes just about done, or haven't yet gotten started. As it is, I've only ever watched the burn quite sober, but that's what happens when people trust you to throw
around flaming toys for their entertainment, I suppose.  

(Such gorgeousness is the sky in the desert, sunsets and sunrises and moonscapes and stars... 
so unlike anything we have here or anywhere else I've been but "out west."
Inspiring artists since the beginning of time, there is nothing quite like the light out there. )

Yea, bitches. That's a freakin' full moon hovering above the fiery spectacle. Pretty much, anyway. This is burn night, Saturday, the night after the full moon (which was hidden from us thanks to a crazy, insane dust storm the evening before) but it was beautiful just the same. My participation this year was that of a performer, naturally, as Philly's own Aish Tamid fire conclave was the ONLY East Coast conclave to be accepted. 

Here's the deal with conclave: if you want to be part of it, to get a chance to perform in this sacred circle in front of 50,000 people and, equally importantly, to get a discounted ticket to the big beautiful burn in the desert, you really just have to show up. By showing up it's assumed that come August you will have then logged enough practice time to actually know what you're doing, even if you didn't when you started out. A lot of beginner fire spinners start off doing conclave, learn a lot, and then move on. So in general, especially in the past, conclave performances can be rather... boring. The one time I was a part of the safety crew, no offense guys, the whole shebang was pretty uninteresting. Then again, I do this all the time - organize large groups of people and put on just long enough of an exciting performance to keep a crowd. The crowd is NOT moving here, because you're just the preview for the main event (the "Man" burning to the ground). Problem is, what with the population explosion at this particular event, they've had to tighten the reigns a little bit and not accept everyone who applies. Some small but specific rules for 2012 made it a bit more complicated, and as it was, Philly was the only East Coast conclave to make the cut. Then again, I heard once we were out there that of the 23 conclaves accepted, some ridiculous number, 17 perhaps, were from California. 

Now I understand that a great deal of people who attend this event are from Cali. It makes sense, considering the culture out there and the culture of Burning Man, not to mention its proximity to where the event is held. (But 17?? Out of 23?!? You've got to be kidding me.)

Regardless, everyone in our Philly conclave really, really wanted to go to Burning Man this year. No surprise there. If you don't really really really want to go to Burning Man you probably won't begin to bother because it's such a freaking pain in the ass to prepare for, pay for and simply survive that you'll stop while you're still ahead. Poor Philly kids, have to travel so far, what ever will we do if we can't save $150-200 out of the grand we'll be spending to get out there by purchasing a performers ticket?? Philly did what Philly does, and we took it up a notch -- (several notches!) Some of our Philly people that usually perform with other groups, international conclaves, stayed with Aish Tamid this year - truly contributing some of the best choreography of the show, which of course had been developed and perfected way before we all started meeting and practicing together as Aish Tamid this past Spring. Same thing with my Lux Arati girls and me - with tons of choreography borrowed from our performances and combos, the fan section (that'd be me) of conclave was almost more technically advanced than some of its participants could handle. (Sorry girls, but we, uh, did tell you to practice.) There were definite leaders and followers, of course, some of us more experienced with our tools than others (some of us still drop our fans even though we know the choreography and moves like a second heartbeat)... but in general, nearly everyone who performs regularly in some professional fire troupe or group act in Philadelphia was involved somehow.

Burners being as they are, and most of you knowing what I do performance wise - any asshole with a hula hoop or a pair of poi can make a big deal out of spinning fire, even poorly, to the right audience. Common as it may be in some circles (like "Burning Man," perhaps you've heard of it? I know, too much), once you get past the spin-jam style performances, it is well-rehearsed, excessively-drilled, and utterly-perfected choreography that stands out in this kind of setting. (We can't all have solos, especially when there are 18-25 people and 15 minutes of performance time - plus, that's rather boring.) So it would make sense then to take all the people that are doing that stuff anyway, gather them together, have them teach a few other people the already-developed choreography, simple or complex as it may be, and then you have a cohesive show to perfect in only 5 months, with a massive learning curve and range of skill levels among the participants. With the right teachers, with proper direction (thank you Terry and Vinny, organizing any group of that size can be frustrating and near impossible) tossed with a splash of blind faith and sprinkle of luck, it can work. And it did, we I'm proud to say that Philly kicked ass. We did it, we got there, we represented Philly and the East Coast with the kind of city pride usually reserved for organized sports, and we all don't even do this together year long. That is, except for those of us that do -- in different groups, with different names.

It was said after the burn that while Aish Tamid isn't a regular cohesive troupe beyond Burning Man (its leaders and members tend to change from year to year, the leaders passing the torch to the next in line and a new crop of eager virgin burners waiting their turn for a discounted ticket and a guaranteed spot around the circle), that our group was an accurate representation of the best performers and troupes in Philadelphia. And though I'm newer than some of my peers in these leadership roles regarding organized fire performances, I proudly agree. (I think my cherry-clad, Putt-Putt sista Andria was that voice of reason.) Cheers, kids. We made it there and back. Almost all of us, anyhow.

I must confess one point of shame from my trip and coveted performance spot. I must preface this confession by noting that while I'm not the best fire fan spinner in the world, nor Philly, nor Aish Tamid (by any means), I walked into this performance opportunity with confidence in my skills and was not intimidated by any of the choreography or technical skills with my preferred tool. I got this, and most certainly did. Plus, it helps that I regularly dance with both of the ladies that were planning my portions of the choreography, so I know how to follow and dance with them no matter what crazy music we happen to be moving to this time. (Three drummers, maybe? Some psytrance? World fusion?? Throw it at me, Mutant Vehicles, you janky Art Cars, give me what you've got.) I'd rather burn myself than drop my fans during a performance. The fire fingers were a learning experience, but I was more concerned with perfecting my bellydance moves than tangling my flaming finger appendages.

However, Butterfingers McGee over here, as luck would have it - four years of performing in front of audiences with fire and I absolutely totally f*cking (excuse my french) dropped one of my fans during our final, #1 super important on-stage moment, right there, into the dust, in front of the soon to be flaming man-building on burn night, Saturday night with that big beautiful full moon in the background. The big kahuna, the climactic moment... 50,000 dusty, dirty burners hooting and hollering... 50,000 tripping hippies, flashing farting art cars on lifts, guys in big fuzzy orange tiger top hats in elevators dispensing questionable consumable items (what?), sarcastic and/or fucked up assholes waiting around for our dumb asses to finish so they can set that big wooden building on fire. You know, the big one in the middle. With the guy on top. (Or was it a female this go around, on account of the fertility thing?) Who knows, because I will never forget that big effing oops. Seriously though, I knew that move inside and out... but things happen. I guess that's a lesson to you beginners, even the people who taught you the move can f*ck it up, including that important moment when everyone is actually watching. Obviously I'm still kind of pissed at myself for doing so. (At Burning Man? The culmination of EVERYTHING? Yep, shit happens. *Raises hand* Even professionals, ahemm, occasionally slip. This was my time.) My conclusion for this major slip up? Nothing... moving on. I'm not the only one who fudged something -- Terry burned himself slightly, as usual. Who doesn't? Andria singed her hair a bit... I forget, there was more. But who can you see drop their tools? Oh just me, right in the middle. Thank you, I just needed a little cheese with my whine, I'm over it and thanks for listening. ;)

Other than that, everything else was lovely. I say that with only a slight twitch in my eye. Better a giant audience with an overwhelming spectacle that you are only a small part of than an intimate one with all of their eyes on you and you alone.

Oh, here's the video btw.

Alright, dear friends. This is long enough of a post for one that doesn't even contain any of my actual photos. To update you, I began writing this pre-container load-out, when our camera was still MIA. It is over a week later and post-container load-out, and we have (most) of our large awkward camping/bicycle junk back in our possession. Although I have already appropriated, and nearly written a friggin' novel about my dusty week via my friends photos, I am happy to announce that we have since located the missing camera and are in the process of recovering and editing its contents. In retrospect I had felt like we hardly took any pictures compared to some, but after completing this post I realize that there are oh, so many more stories to tell. I've just barely begun, barely scratched the surface of a wealth of dust-filled adventures, yet I already can't wait to go back next year and do it better. AGAIN, and with more gusto!

Stay tuned for Readjustment, part 2.

Going Home

That was then, and this is now. I am going home.


Sometimes you need to release negative energies and complain, commiserate, wallow in your own excrement for a minute before you can let go and move on. It took me over a month to be able to write my last blog post - considering the gap between entries, I was so incredibly busy with all aspects of the show (planning, practicing, organizing, making gigantic elaborate costumes and headdresses) that the blow of not being able to perform hit me pretty hard and I could barely process the chain of events from June into July for awhile, much less write about them and show off my hard work (that was almost a complete bust.) Almost two months later, just a few days ago, I was able to post that last entry after many previous attempts at completing it. And I miss writing here in my Perfect World... but discouragement and despair are not emotions I can allow myself to dwell on for very long. Because baby, I am going HOME!

Just a few more days and I'll see you in the dust. Today, right now, packing is the last thing I want to do... I had a shitty night of sleep, my body aches, and my nose is stuffy. I am praying this will pass, quickly, and I can make my journey without any of the million issues that have already tested me. I had all these grand plans to make all these things (clothing, jewelry, hairpieces) before I left and pack super efficiently with all my daytime/nighttime outfits bagged up - the only way to do it, I guess - and all I can say right now is we'll see. We'll see how we actually get out there (travel buddies bailed last minute), we'll see how efficient I get with packing (considering how I feel today) and we'll see if I get around to making anything else (when I kinda just want to go back to bed.)

I'm performing with Aish Tamid, the only East coast conclave accepted this year, and we'll be performing with a group of the most talented performers from Philly around the man before it burns. I think this one was from last year, but to give you an idea how this looks....

I will be one of those tiny fiery dots, as the rest of the festival gathers around for the climax of a week of building, partying, getting extremely dirty and loving it. (Mostly.)

Just a few more days, and I'll be home.

Headdresses, freak weather & PEX Summer Festival

It has been too long, indeed - insanely busy for the month of June preparing for the annual show I perform in and help organize that debuts its newest work at PEX Summer Festival in Darlington, MD. This would have been the fourth year in a row of the festival and the fourth year our group of performers from Philly takes care of the Friday night entertainment. "Would have been," key words, because as it happened the show was cancelled.

I KNOW.

Not by any fault of ours but rather the weather... a massive electrical storm with strong winds was tearing through the Mid-Atlantic and we were almost at call time, every performer psyching themselves up, all dressed up in their costumes and makeup and suddenly my right-hand (wo)man Jexi runs in with a look that I've seen before on her face - and I knew something was wrong. "There's a really bad storm heading straight for us," she tells us, "and the show has been delayed."

We were performing on a stage this time, rather than the uncomfortable concrete slab of the camps aging basketball courts (our "stage" in previous years), and most the performers were getting ready in the cabin directly across the road from the stage. Everyone's smartphones were tracking the weather, Jexi is checking her phone every five minutes for updates from the festival organizers and most of us are out on the cabin porch smoking cigarettes when we realize they are now taking apart the aforementioned stage.

Here we are, 50 miles north of Baltimore off of I-95, and the storm headed our way is a serious one. Serious lightning, high winds, and the threat of hail and flooding have placed the area under a severe storm warning and thousands of people across the Mid-Atlantic have lost their power. The stage is made up almost entirely of metal - so dismantling the super-lightning conductor we were supposed to be standing on was probably the safe thing to do. We waited for awhile, hoping for a near miss and only temporary delay... and it became apparent soon after that our show was not going to happen.

At some point before that I suspected as much and had given up on completing my makeup. What was the point? The rain hadn't started yet, but festival organizers and friends of all levels were racing around on golf carts, shouting into walkie-talkies and warning campers to secure their tents and seek a safe spot to weather the storm. Tons of people had set up their tents underneath the many giant pine trees all over the property. A tornado had ripped through the region not 2 weeks before that night, and the landscape still showed scars from its wrath - also probably why everyone there was taking this storm so seriously.

Just before it started to drizzle, my dance partner Laura dragged me outside to have Adam of Redlite Photos take a few shots of both of us in our headdresses. So here I am, makeup unassuming (normal, even, for me - not what I would have wanted to look like on stage), skin pale, nails raggedy, headdress barely finished and almost in tears because I'm starting to realize that I have lost sleep and sanity, dumping blood, sweat and tears LITERALLY into these fucking headdresses and we are not performing in them tonight. And maybe not at all that weekend. And this is a sad, sad realization for me. And here are the shots from Adam from that exact moment.

 

My animal-hybrid headdress - featuring real feathers, antlers, fur, and more and more and more.

 (Photo courtesy of RedLite Photos)

 

Laura and I (Loco & Coco) posing with our headdresses after learning our show has been cancelled.

Can you sense my lack of enthusiasm about posing for this picture?

(Photo courtesy of RedLite Photos)

My lack of posts in this blog can attest to the magnanimous amount of work I put into practicing, making costumes, and crafting my precious headdresses for The Penny Treats, I hope. The night of our cancelled show was the start of a weekend festival that became an unforgiving emotional rollercoaster.

Are we rescheduling the show? How can we make this work? What are we going to do? And WHY THE FUCK DID I BUST MY ASS for nothing??

Because you never know, because there was no rain plan -  because we are at the mercy of our mother earth and sometimes she messes with us. Sometimes she teaches us a lesson. Sometimes things happen for a reason that you will figure out later, but until then you will barely manage to survive this overwhelmingly emotional weekend, darting back and forth between interminable disappointment and crazed motivation, only made worse by the intense heat, sudden rainstorms and magnificent lightning. (Though the downpour on us that Friday night was expected, the lightning storm was like nothing I have ever seen, including lightning from a category 5 hurricane. It was non-stop, for several hours, with no thunder clap to remind us of the distance away and no break in flashes, often gigantic and reaching as far as the eye could see.)

I made the decision the next evening to wear my headdress in the opening ceremony for the effigy burn. Maybe I singed some feathers, and maybe I lost some bejewels along the way - but at least I got to wear it and perform. It took some convincing from friends and some blind trust in myself (that I wouldn't completely destroy the thing I had spent hours and hours creating.) Below are a few shots from my performance that night. I just happened to be RIGHT in front of a group of photographers. Lucky me. :)

 

Spinning fire fans before the burn wearing my headdress. Finally.

This shot and the black and white are used courtesy of Eraj Asadi.

(Thank you again for the fantastic pictures!)

 

 

Photo courtesy of Jemma Stember-Young

I have waited far too long to post this - so I'll end here and be back BEFORE the big beautiful burn in the desert with some pre-Playa musings.

Despite & Considering...

 

Laughing onstage at Karnival with my dance partner Jexi because our flames are completely out.

Image courtesy of  Redlite Photos (view the rest of the set on Facebook here)

Because sometimes, no matter how prepared you are, how many times you practiced leading up to this night and even if you're just crossing your fingers that you won't make a mistake (and with what I do, can potentially involve burns and other hazardous incidents) ... you just have to laugh. You might as well smile up there, because despite all your preparedness, "technical difficulties" happen and it's not always how you wanted it to be.

No bashing necessary - I got that out of my system later that night. These things happen, and all I can say was that it was an excellent chance to have a dress rehearsal of our piece before PEX Summer Festival. The weather held out, it didn't pour down rain on us and even let up by the time anyone had to perform on stage. No one dropped their fans or forgot the choreography. Considering our fans went out with 1/3 song left (the music didn't quite get started when we wanted it to, leaving us standing there waiting for the cue, forced to wave our fans about just to get the heat off our hands...) we did pretty freaking good. I'm proud of my fellow Lux Arati ladies, love you all bunches and LOVE performing with you no matter what.

(Considering also, that the entire day leading up to that night was a royal headache - had to stay late at work, then my car wouldn't start, rushing to finish my bra for this costume and not even getting there on time... I'd say despite everything, somehow it was still a success?)

Another shot of our performance by Redlite Photos. Note the half burnt out wicks. :)

This makes me even more excited for the summer and beyond. (Just wait till you catch a glimpse of what The Penny Treats have up their sleeve.)

Dangerous & Exciting things: Fire, Karnival, and Russian Roulette

April is flying by, my friends. Feels like the First Friday show just happened, but the month is almost over.

I've been taking a break from fine art and general painting, for the most part -- my post-art-show decompression activities have included practices, rehearsals and/or meetings nearly every night of the week in preparation for upcoming performances and shows. By day I'm a brunch slinging, cappucino crafting barista... then I spend countless hours concocting and calculating the perfect balance of visual psychedelic geometric dreamscapes in oils and acrylics... by night I'm a fire twirling, feather teasing alter-ego of myself on stage and in my "spare time" (what's that, again?)  I'm customizing said alter-egos showstopping threads from old tired garments and thrift store scores... all while planning a 45 minute, prime night & time fire variety show for a festival of a few thousand attendees.

Scorch Fire Show, PEX Summer Festival 2010 - performing the opening number, "Shiva." 

Photo by Oscar P.

It's that time of year again and planning for the summer's festivities, including the now legendary PEX Summer Festival has begun. Though it started with a disorganized dream, four years later we find ourselves for the first time keeping the exact same show name and administrative team - the Russian Roulette Variety Show, featuring the hottest, most talented troupes and performers from Philadelphia (and beyond) showcasing their newest work every year at PEX Summer Fest in the coveted Friday night spot. I am proud to announce that The Russian Roulette Variety Show is now accepting submissions for performers as well, which you can do by filling out the form here.

 A shot from behind the "stage" - Scorch Fire Show,  PEX Summer Festival 2010. Jexime Icon performing her fire fan solo in front of the Shiva fire sculpture (built for the show by Vinny Gasper, funded by a grant from PEX.)

 Photo by Emily Watson.

 Scorch Fire Show, PEX Summer Festival 2010 - performing the opening number, "Shiva." 

Photo by Emily Watson.  

R.R.V.S., please be advised, is a variety show - meaning there is no performance genre too weird (or too normal either, I suppose) to be considered. But performers be advised - if you haven't already begun working on the piece you are thinking of submitting, you may be out of luck. Giving that the festival is only a few months away, we are looking for troupes and performers that already have their shit together, to put it bluntly. Along with filling out the application form, you are required to submit a video to us of your current progress for your specific performance for the show. (Even if it's rough, even if you don't have it 100% figured out, we need to see it. Apparently some folks don't understand this concept.) Chances are if you haven't started working on this already, it might not be "done" in time for PEX. If this is your situation, don't fret - this is not the first, nor the last show from Russian Roulette. If you really want to put in the effort, chances are you will be able to be part of this magnificent and magnanimous show.



Why are we implementing such specific guidelines and demanding requirements for Russian Roulette? It's very simple - for one, of course, we want our show to be the best it can be. Keeping the acts interesting, different... the choreography polished, the music varied, making sure the entire show flows in a way that will keep our audience eagerly awaiting the next act. No awkward pauses between acts, no boring 7 minute solo acts with the same prop, NO intermission (people just get up and leave) and of course, no one catching on fire. (Very important.) Most of us involved on the administrative team have been doing a similar show for the past few years, and we've made the mistakes we needed to make to learn from them... this "disorganized dream" that wasn't even my own, when it began, has come a long way. (When I first got involved and the summer festival was in it's infancy - I was very very new to fire, to performing, to PEX, to everything - but, felt drawn to do it still, knowing that I had a very different but useful range of experience under my belt and in my heart I could make these shows better than they would otherwise be.)

Here is a great video by Hedy Sirico from 2010's PEX Summer Fest 

performance of Scorch Fire Show.

Anyway, myself and the rest of the R.R.V.S. admin team are busting our asses right now (we don't get paid for this, remember) to put on another fabulous show this summer. I absolutely consider this another part of my "art", it just happens to be within a different genre.

  

Lux Arati performing at PEX Summer Festival in 2011 as part of The Russian Roulette Variety Show. 

Lux Arati performing at PEX Summer Festival in 2011 as part of The Russian Roulette Variety Show. (Not sure who took these photos - apologies for not giving due credit. If this is yours please contact me ASAP and I will get on that.)

This weekend - Saturday night - I will be performing with both of my groups, Lux Arati and The Penny Treats at Karnival. The Penny Treats are performing an old number that we've reworked (think- red feather fans...) and Lux Arati is debuting something brand new, totally mind-blowing and maybe still in-progress. I like to think of this show as a dress rehearsal for PEX Summer Fest and R.R.V.S. -- although I hope it will still be as kick-ass as it should be. For once, I picked the track we're performing to - "All Alone" by Gorillaz. It happened to be on a mix CD in my car, one of the only CD's it felt like playing for awhile, and I must have listened to it on repeat for a week before playing it for my girls. It's a little electronic, a little hip hop, and a little booty shakin' action, little bit of BOUNCE-WIGGLE-BOUNCE... all that... plus bellydancing with fire fans? Holy shitballs. This is gonna be quite a spectacle. Watch out... literally, because some of the moves are pretty complicated and if we drop our flaming fans on you, it may burn a little. Might sting a bit.

 Lux Arati fire montage - poster for Karnival, April 28th at the Arts Garage in Philly.

On that note, I REALLY have to work on my costume for tomorrow. Click on this link to get to the Facebook event for Karnival. Here are some of the bangin' posters for the event featuring yours truly. I will post relevant media when I have it available.

(Oooh la la!)

Masterpieces, minutes and the moon

"An artists only concern is to shoot for some kind of perfection,
and on his own terms, not anyone else's."
(J.D. Salinger)

A great big huge THANK YOU to everyone that came out for First Friday. And an extra special thanks to Terrence Laragione at Buzz Cafe for hosting, and my fabulous husband Alex for helping me out with every little thing.

In total, I managed to get roughly 5 new paintings finished in time for the show. And three paintings "sold", including two that several friends of mine were fighting over. I say "sold" in quotations because I haven't received payment for these paintings yet, nor have they actually left the show to be in the hands of their new owners. (But they will be, and have been marked as such.) There were no actual fights, but some cash did get thrown at me at one point. I wasn't really prepared to sell anything on the spot. In fact, I'm lucky I got there dressed (half an hour after the official start time) and that all my paintings were hanging where they should be. With tags, frames and hardware. If it wasn't for the last minute... I would never, ever, get anything done. My mantra for life, apparently.

I'm also very happy to announce the (sans a few minor touch-ups) COMPLETION, yes, it's finished - of this monstrous painting that has been consuming my life for over a year now. It's done, and my plan was to give it to it's new owners right after the opening. Alas, that situation is now also complicated, so for now it's on display in Buzz Cafe.

And here is my beauty, my masterpiece, my magnum opus... ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you in it's finally finished state -

The Honeycomb Merkaba.

The commissioned painting that I've been working on for over a year.
"The Honeycomb Merkaba" / 30" x 40" /oil, mixed media on canvas.

I've been meaning to write something - it's own special little artist's statement - about this painting. It deserves it, after this long - after studying, scrutinizing every line, shade and tone over a billion times. I want to be able to explain it better, and taking some time to figure out exactly what it's about and what it means would serve me well I think. I've started, written a few words and began looking through the notes I took in my many stages of planning and reworking... and of course, the numerous in-progress posts here in my blog. I took plenty of pictures throughout this process, although after the fact I wish they had all been standardized (all on the same wall or in the same kind of lighting setup) so I could turn them into some kind of gif or animation. I think I can still work out some kind of presentation of what I have where you can really literally see it changing and things being added and taken away. It just won't look as nice as it could have.

"Puerto Rico #1" / 16" x 20" /oil on canvas (NEW)
— at Buzz Cafe Philly.

Another piece that was finally completed in time for the show. Not three days before I was working on it, "touching it up", and inadvertently repainted nearly the entire thing. (Ooops. It's done though, now. Promise.) It does look, finally, how I wanted it to. It feels like Puerto Rico to me, that moment sitting on the balcony, the ocean seconds away, rum and ice clinging in the glass he's holding. Palm trees just out of view, blowing in the warm breeze. It's #1 because obviously I intend to paint more from this one and only vacation my husband and I have taken together. So it goes.

"Organic/Chemical/Mechanical" / 12" x 24"/ oil, paint marker on canvas (left)
and "Tree of Life" / 19" x 11.5" / acrylic on wood (right)

More new pieces on display. The one on the right I've posted before, and the one on the left was another one finished just in time, with a custom frame made for it by my wonderful hubby.

That painting, Organic/Chemical/Mechanical, started as an experiment, a side project using up extra paint in between working on The Honeycomb Merkaba. It was, originally, inspired by crop circle formations, though it has come a long way from where it began. I used a similar method of combining oil-based paint markers and oil paint (shh, my "secret" weapon) as I did in Honeycomb. And for some reason, people really liked it.

I never expected it to turn out so well (a side note, the colors don't show up as well in the photo here as they are in real life) and never expected one of my friends to want to buy it, for the sticker price too, during my show that very night. Problem was, I was working on it a month or two ago, and another friend of mine who happened to be at our house at that moment, expressed his interest for it as well. I threw out a (too low, apparently) price, his feedback inadvertently provided inspiration for the title, and I said... "It's not done. You can't have it yet, and yes if you show up with a wad of cash wanting to buy it, it's yours." That is, until I actually finished it, had a custom frame made for it, and priced it at least $100+ higher than that number for the show. I figured, not thinking it would happen, that if someone offered me that much more for the same painting (closer to what it's worth to me to sell it for) then I'd have to take it. I am trying to do this, aren't I? I put these extravagant prices, sometimes, on these paintings I end up loving intensely, thinking that whoever wants to rip this one out of my hands had better fork over enough money to satisfy my loss. Then I end up almost giving them away to dear friends, causing problems when I'm actually put in a position to make real money off my work. Le sigh, le sigh. Maybe someday, all my paintings will be worth thousands and thousands of dollars, and I'll still give them away to my friends. (Don't know you? Pay up, bitches.)

You can view the rest of the pictures from First Friday here (uploaded to my Flickr account) or here on my Art by Xtina Facebook page.

Though the show is over (it is still up through the end of April and probably most of May) there is no shortage of things on my to-do list. It's spring now, and festival season is upon us and the best weather for performing is already here. Almost every night of the week I have rehearsals or meetings, practicing fiery belly dancing with the Lux Arati ladies or burlesque with "Loco" for The Penny Treats, not to mention plotting and planning an entire variety show for PEX Summer Festival. More info on all of that to come. The next performance, and I'll post the poster & more information for it soon, is Saturday April 28th where both my dance groups are performing at Bangarang's annual Karnival bash at the Art's Garage here in Philly.

Whew. So much going on, barely enough time to breathe before the next project or event. Occasionally I need to take a moment and obsess over something more simple - like the moon, my night time sister, my astrological planet and the inspiration for my first tattoo. Not the last full moon, but the full moon before THAT - we were heading home from somewhere right after it got dark and noticed this gigantic, gorgeous orange wheel o' cheese sitting on the horizon. We rushed home and grabbed the good camera, tripods & telephoto lens, and ran out after it. We never caught the gigantic, orange beast hanging in the sky, but we did obsessively take some pretty interesting pictures of the full moon and some thick, fluffy clouds that night. Till quite late, I believe. Here is one.



On that note, a very successful show this month and a busy performing season ahead. Bring it on, world. I'm ready.

Gearing up for First Friday @ Buzz Cafe

Poster design for First Friday.

Less than a week away, I am busy as hell trying to finish a bunch of new paintings and prepare for my next First Friday event. So far I've thrown together designs for a 2-sided flyer (printed, though I still need to distribute my half around the neighborhood this week) and turned that into a 11x17 poster, which I just picked up from the printer and dropped off to the cafe. Though time consuming (working on those kinds of things sucks me into the computer for hours and hours) I still find it kind of fun - but it distracts me from the things I really need to do to get ready for this show. Make sure my work is finished and ready to hang!

Here is the front (left image) and back (right) of the flyer.

The biggest accomplishment I'm trying to get done by Friday's show is the completion of my year-and-a-month long painting of which I have referenced endlessly on this blog - "Honeycomb Merkaba". I really, really want to get it finished, hang it up for the opening and pass it on to it's new owners. It's truly, really, almost there. (I swear.) As long as I finish up any of the painting with oils by today, it will hopefully be dry by hanging time on Thursday afternoon. Crossing my fingers.

Just came back from visiting my parents in sunny tropical Miami, Florida - still recovering from my mini-vacation. I had to go straight back to work Saturday and Sunday, so today has been my first day off - and I needed to sleep in. Thankfully, the fabulous cafe that I am exhibiting my work at is not only a) literally down the street from my house but b) serves delicious, strong coffee, that which I am currently consuming. Not sure when I became such a coffee fiend, but it's necessary for gettin' er done, which needs to be my mantra for the next few days.

So here we go. The clock is ticking and the daylight remaining on this sunny Monday afternoon is waning. My paintings behind me are calling my name (only I can hear it), begging me to work on them just a little more to make them as close to perfect as I can muster before exposing them to the rest of the world.

Let me also remind my readers that the official afterparty for my show will be held at Frank's Kitchens. If you've never been to a First Friday at Frank's... well, you've been missing out.

Thanks to Tom Carr and the rest of the Frank's crew.

SO - if you live in the City of Brotherly Love, please make it out this week to an epic duo of First Friday events, both taking place in the culturally creative lower class mecca, the gorgeously ghetto-ass neighborhood of Kensington. Just north of Northern Liberties, just west of Fishtown. The only place that unestablished artists can find affordable rent, much less a studio to do their work in. Where we have lived (happily) for nearly 5 years now, and where I will be showing my work starting this Friday for the next two months.

Please RSVP to the Facebook event for my show by clicking here, and while you're at it RSVP to the afterparty hosted by Frank's Kitchens, located just a few blocks away.