I am sad because I am happy. Or I have been way too happy. Well, I think I just don't understand my emotional state yet. I want to cry, yet I am laughing every other second. My heart is broken, yet completely full. I'm reminding myself that it is good to feel all of these emotions, and to let myself just process them. But this is just silly. All I really am is sad. And it's all because of that damned folk festival.
Yes, I just got back on Sunday night from the Falcon Ridge Folk Festival. There, I see friends that I only get to see once a year, hear some music, play some music, and find a sort of peace that I don't find anywhere else. It's become less and less about the lineup, which was weak, according to many. This just meant that I spent much more time at the campsite with all of my wonderful friends at the George Fox Pavilion.
Our honorable mayor, Trapper John, orchestrates a grand little shanty-town for us, complete with said pavilion, Club Century, a full bar, and the Dharma Cafe. The food was unreal, as we had blueberry pancakes, veggie and meat chili, korean beef, indian dahl, s'mores, chicken kebabs (courtesy of DjP), spaghetti with portobello mushrooms, fresh guacamole, and much more. We eat a lot at that camp. The family that eats dinner together is closer, they always say. I think this is very true.
I wish that I could adequately describe the feeling that washes over me when I step out of the car and on to the grass of the parking lot at Long Hill Farm every year. It's the beginning of a huge release. I take a deep breath, and when I exhale, most of my tension leaves me. Through the next day or so, it leaves in little whispers, every time I see and embrace a good friend that I never get to see, or am moved to the point of tears by a song.
Falcon Ridge seems to be a landmark of where I am in my life. My second year, I was just exhibiting symptoms of being sick. My third year, I was terribly sick and didn't know it. My fourth year, I came the day after chemotherapy. My fifth year, I was in remission. My sixth year, this year, well... you know. This might be why I am always a little comtemplative, and always go away from the crowd for a little bit each day. I wanted to touch every pretty dress the vendors were selling, absorb all the sunshine and rain that I could. Every year since I first got sick, I've wanted to memorize everything at Falcon Ridge. I kind of go there in my mind when I need to find a place of peace. I'd like to think that when I was in the hospital being poisoned for three weeks, my mind was at the farm, wandering around, smelling the hay and feeling the sun shine.
to be continued... i must go to work...
