Now for the promised post on the Big Sur music festival Bren and I drove to last weekend.
Big Sur is about 5 hours north of Los Angeles, one of the most beautiful, surreal drives I have ever done. Bren and I did this drive for our honeymoon too, so that only adds to the serenity I feel when I'm there. Even Bren mellows out -- he gets very quiet and a peaceful, prayerful look washes over his face (or at least I prefer to think he's feeling like that, rather than pissed about driving!!)
We were told, quite enigmatically, to drive to a "pullout on the right after the Shell Station" -- it was all very secret brotherhood-y!! It reminded me of that episode of 90210, where Brandon and Brenda try to get to a rave by presenting an egg at a liquor store. Do you guys remember that one?!!!! hahahahaa
Anyway, we parked at the pull out, loaded our stuff into the back of a van, met a handful of other people and then drove up a nearby hill. Modern patio-wrapped cabins dotted the landscape on our way up, with spectacular views of the fog rolling in and kissing the tree-carpeted hillsides.
Finally, we got to the location, a cool collective of modern wooden cabins clearly DESIGNED, you know what I mean? Hippie-types abounded, some of whom were friendly, some of whom were annoyingly not. We found a small piece under the trees and pitched our tent. It's the first time Bren and I had camped together! Bren took this wicked creepy photo of me in the tent!!
There was a nice whimsical touch outside our tent though... someone had run an extension cord from one of the homes, and plugged in a happy lamp right outside our tent.
After some dinner, we headed into the "barn", a big, clean beautiful space with a wide sloping wooden ceiling that looked like the bottom of an Indonesian gamelan. First, the hostess of the evening (and Bren's friend) Alana staged a frightening yet alluring dance piece: she played a wild spirit creature who is both spurned and loved by her frilly, tightly-laced circle of women.
Bren's friend Jolene sang a pair of wonderful, soul-y rocky tunes...
And it wouldn't be a gathering of Burning Man folks, without some fire dancing. (There were some tribal bellydance poseurs too, but I didn't think much of them. Yes you can call me a snob. Tribal bellydancing can be beautiful, but you cannot get up there and do it if you haven't mastered it yet or else you look like a complete tosser).
Bren took all those awesome pics! Thanks ba!
By far though, the most touching and exquisite performance was from a gal named Marie Sioux -- an unassuming girl with a guitar who knocked me over with her voice and her lyrics. She is on Grassroots Records, run by a super-cool guy named Mark who I befriended because he was addicted to the chocolate-covered espresso beans that I was passing around! Go to the website and listen to her stuff. She's lovely and I predict will soon have quite a following.
well this post is long enough. there's actually more to come! standby!
oh and Bren is getting a tattoo today! aieeee! Here is the last time we'll see a clean forearm on my beloved BMM.