Summers in Maryland: Part I (abridged)
a love letter to a community in liminal space: Vibe Camp
I
I’ll be honest, I had no idea what to expect when coming out here for summer camp. I’d been living in Austin for almost a decade now. So, I’d like to preface with that, and provide a little background about where I am coming from. Mentally, where I am right now because I’ve been a little bit on the fringes of society as of late, punk shows, that sort of thing.
So where do I begin? Let’s start with some context, I had only been up to the north-east a handful of times in the past; However, most of that time was spent either in middle of nowhere on the “Pemigewasset Loop,” or inside a box which just happened to be in Brooklyn, New York.
After the “Covid-19 Pandemic,” I had spent most of my time locked inside of a variety of boxes just ticking away at time. I had lost most of the my structure, most of my life crumbled away, and undergrad had finished with me in lockdown, and I was online once again.
Naturally, during this point in my life, like a lot of people I lost my job, I went on unemployment for a few months, and caught covid. Thank god for John Hopkins. At that point, I decided to ditch most of my social media, I chose to become addicted to video games again, but also think really hard about what was really going on. I was doing the best, well the best I could at the time because I got really existential about it all. (like Charlie says) Anyways, that all really came to halt when the funding started getting cut, and things became real again.
I, as they say, got the point where I was needing to be “essential” and a part of the work force and economy again. I found a new job to ensure my labor was secured on the glorious free market, so I could sell my time to continue to fund my existence. I applied to a variety of jobs before deciding to work at store, like a bodega. Mind you I could do anything at this point, I don’t really have debt, or anything, just kind of floating in liminal space.
entropy occurs
Time passes. I am being held up a gun point, kept hostage, interrogated before being beaten, robbed, disabled briefly by having a gun placed on my head. I only remember yelling, “please sir,” so many freaking times. It was kind of funny to me that after all that. They could not find the false door that held the lockbox, which held all the cash inside. (This wasn’t the first time they had been robbed) Always dropping the real envelope behind a wooden wall with a hole at the top of the desk, and then the safe at the end of the day, the some same thing for six months. So much time went by it felt like forever, like it would never end.
With my face still pressed against the ground; they were trying to scramble grab what they could, and grab anything of value. My mind wandered and just asked: to make it quick, and thanks to god for giving me a shot. We had made something to the number of $500 dollars that day, sad as the president would say. But, instead they took off with the dummy priced items, they fled the scene quickly, and I kept my life for another day. They put those “highly priced” objects in front to make sure they were stolen first, so it will be written off on the insurance, so they say.
Meanwhile, after all the commotion and rummaging about they took what we had, and held our phones, broke some and kept others, so we couldn’t call for the help. If we tried maybe it would have been worse? They split my friend’s head open, and crashed out my bosses’ Toyota Camry in a ditch somewhere outside of town. The police came to look around at it all told us we shouldn’t have defunded the police, filed their report, so they could say they came, and left. It was necessary that in court somewhere someday it could be proven at one point that these events were purported to have occurred.
After that, I showed up to work for a few days, but ultimately decided to never come back. A few months later, friend asks for help, they say why not try to make a difference for people that might need something different. So I go and try by sitting in room with kids to make sure they don’t lose it. (actually much harder than you expect given the collective trauma that we all simultaneously just experienced not so long before) It does pay off in the end, but you need an iron will and incredible resolve to survive. These kids compared to where I just came from were a breeze, but you have to be so gentle because they can still change they’re the future.
The main mission now was don’t miss work, or your pay resets. So much is time spent trying to do something, spent trying to show people a new way of being here. (I’m not trying to wrestle with the best though) I am just trying to find out how to keep going in between all of this. The crazy guy tells me I don’t know how to talk to them, but he doesn’t know I listen to all the tea. I quit. I start somewhere else. Year one all over again.
More time passes, so many more things happen. Everything felt like it wouldn’t stop happening, all the time, all at once, every day, for three years. The band breaks up. The boys go their separate ways, my friends get married. My friends move away, and I am still here. It is beautiful to know love once. But this time, these quests were an entirely different animal; different in a way that haunts you and your memories forever. Something like playing Resident Evil, or camping alone in the woods at night, for the first time.
“ain’t no strings on me”
We can go back further later, but for now, let’s continue. I could go on and on about how I find myself struggling to just live day by day, by these rules that I’ve made up in my head, on how to live a good life and never give up. Or, rather what ways to operate in a world I’ve been involuntarily placed. I try to make it past the River Styx in dreams, through the Field of Reeds, across the Pearly Gates, understanding my shadow, the Wheel, try hard to keep ringing the Bells, see Shangri-La.
To not eat the lotus. To wake up.
When my friends move away I find myself online again. More and more hours sitting in front of a screen, and thinking about how things have been. Now there is more shit in endless cycle of news; the wars, the shootings, the government, all of these object level things that kept me consuming content for hours upon hours, once again. The issue now is that, now my mental health has gotten worse. They have changed the rules, the game, and spaces. There is no digital bill of rights, and I am not here to debate semantics. That factory is finished.
I get a cat. (Пушинка) I find my own studio. I drive an hour long commute across town just so I can live alone. I start working for graduate students helping them facilitate their research, and just working. Trying my best to get outside more often, and just working, sourcing good information in the age of disinformation, and just working. Drinking beer, and working, smoking, going to the bar, and working. Getting to go out to listen to music, and watching live wrestling, and working, and talking to strangers, and forgetting for a moment what I am doing.
Everything kept going faster and faster until it felt like this, right now.
Everything felt like this is just how it is going to be from now on, and how its going to be forever. I kept to my yoga routine, eating healthy, thinking about other people instead of thinking inward. I focused so much time and energy on things that brought so little comfort for so long. I actually had forgotten what it felt like to live in solitude, what loneliness does to people, and how nutty I got. Then it all suddenly stops dead in its tracks and I am shaken to my core. I have never felt this way before, even when I was close to dying I didn’t actually die, I just got a little messed up from the experience, flash-backs, dreams, but this time.
I get a phone call at night from my dad, asking to me to drive to San Antonio to take him to the hospital. I told him, “yea, I can in the morning,” but tomorrow never comes.
My sister died. I’ll miss you forever.
This is when I spiral further the furthest I have ever gone, or rather crash-out. I find myself lonelier but brought around to seeing people I hadn’t seen in years and, frankly, was with fine never seeing again. Reminded of all, all the horrible things that happened to her, and how she just ended up taking her life is the worst possible ending to something, so impossibly sad. Everyone leaves the funeral with a bigger hole than before. It eats away at something I thought I had already lost. I can’t stop crying for weeks. I start to totally Evaporate.
I take my mom to Colorado for one of the most beautiful weddings that I have been to in my twenties, which I was lucky enough to be a part of. I write a speech for it because I’ve known him for twenty years. My mom and I, We get stranded in the Denver at airport after that night. I had no idea what I was doing when summoning those cars to come at night, on a schedule it was hassle. I was operating on limited information apparently that the airport closes midway through the night and opens back up promptly at 5am. So what did we do? we slept on some chairs and left the next morning.
I learned a lot that year about real friendship, and how it does get very gushy and sentimental. “How it is all going,” I ask now that we are all here together, and at the same time in so many different places all at once. I finish the year, and I get a new tattoo. I break Leviticus. Time slides by. I fixate on Lego. I watch the entirety of Seinfeld in two months. (Did you hear it is not popular anymore? understandable) I try to heal do what therapy taught me to do when trying to heal. My truck dies along with my friend. It gets impounded, I try to cope, pay the fees to get it out. I start making bets, this time without twitter as readily available. The debt number goes up.
A new year, more things move around, more things change, some things are totally different, but how I feel doesn’t change. I find myself crying randomly more about everything going on, not just here, but everywhere. Azov. I watch the fiberoptic drones, first person videos, peace bombs, hyperbole from heads of state encroaching further and furthering into everyone and everything. Fewer friends, Better Friends? Finding peace. Trying to put reasons to things that are unreasonable. Most of that year was spent just burning a lot of time grasping at ways that I could reconnect to something inside myself despite everything feeling like it has been underwater for so long.
I get accepted to help a program they liked my thesis, and they pick me to help do research aggregating data for projects to help “redefine” the profession. It keeps my mind busy, like my dad says, it gives certain people reasons to justify our existence, and funding, I say that. More of my strings are cut. My number goes down; I am closer to being free. I am forced to think about other things and that helps.
And now we are here right before summer, I say goodbye to a lot of things and people. I visit Colorado again, go to the wrong airport, almost miss my flight, top Pikes Peak, promptly freeze my ass off, wander around when it gets hotter up in smoke, so they say. But, this time where do I fit into any of this now? Married life seems fun though. My mind wanders. Things feel better and I am “doing things” again. I hope they stay like this for a while. I summon a vehicle and this time, a hundred and fifty four dollars later, it actually works. Flying back home. My contract is ending, and things are shifting, totally apart. I visit home, there and back again, my mom tells me this time, I need to go make my own path. April is over.
Back in Austin, Texas trying to finish work. I try to help everyone meet their dead lines and hit quotas. I feel extremely hopeless sometimes. It feels extremely hopeless sometimes too, if not punishable by impunity. I had a weird time at work, nothing seemed to fit together anymore, like the bottom was about to fall out, and I can’t talk about what happened there these years, it is too evil.
For a little bit I am lost in the moment, my mother is at least she is trying to fix her life again, it does feel hopeless at times. Stuck in all of this trying so hard to just stay in the same ‘pot, or having to face one bad day that takes your savings. I am almost thirty, most of my serious relationships have failed, mostly because of me. My grandparents are dying. My dad is getting sicker, my aunt is taking our house.
My mom still lives in the same trailer I graduated high school from ten years ago. I’ve had to cut the floor out multiple times because it wont stop rotting from the inside. My other sisters don’t talk to me anymore. I visit my family, I ask my grandma:
“Conocos”
…
“te amo mucho.”
She tells me to take some plants, we hug, I work on my bonsai.
“Mucho gusto.”
I find some purpose again in my house plants. I start growing what I can on my balcony again. Reading again. thinking about writing again. Time decompresses again. I work on the computers, fix one, build a new one, and refurbish another. Binge more videogames to cope.
I get a text message.
“Come to Vibe Camp”
and I think,
“what?”
then immediately,
“No.”
Shut down everyone. Shut down everything. My life just felt like so much of my time was just going through the motions on autopilot, without ever really living, or ever being present anymore.
I overload people, until they pop.
I changed my mind a week or two before, I can’t remember.
I felt so angry.
I found housing for my cat for two weeks, and planned to leave everything. Nothing mattered! Nothing matters! Things that I know that are not hard to do felt impossible. if your brain works like mine Regardless, we persist. I guess sometimes entropy occurs. When we expect things to go the way we want we usually encounter what the Marine’s call, “Murphy’s law” this along side a litany of colorful phrases.
So I jump! Geronimo!
So my friend asks me again to come try something new! Life has its many ways of pulling us back into living it, and it doesn’t matter what part of the internet we find ourselves crossing in or out of. We all get stage calls.
I ended up beta testing an MMO for over a hundred hours before just packing as many thing as I could into a carry on suitcase and backpack. Leaving my cat with the sitter, and frantically tossing out as many food items as I could out so I wouldn’t come home to any surprises. (oddly enough that still didn’t work)
I found myself reaching a little further out into the world once again, and more than anything trying to reconnect to my friend and find that playfulness at Vibe Camp.
II
I summoned a car, it was quick this time, and here it’s only twenty bucks, that’s a steal. At least they don’t have to deal with medallions. I don’t usually use do this, but it works really well, and that says something about the efficiency of technology. The city just got a new app that made it “easier” to pay to ride the bus, but someone just got stabbed last week, so you know how it goes. I can’t complain too much as someone might be paying attention.
My luggage landed with a hard *thud* and I made sure that nothing touched the bumper. you know? you know. Inside the car the air was cold and an aroma of I don’t know what filled the car not overwhelming but present.
We had a quick ride, I like when they don’t talk to me much, but also I don’t totally like sitting in awkward silence very much either. It is an art, driving. The lady seems nice we exchange some words. I notice She had put signs up saying,
“Do not mess her car up, and make sure to tip if its clean.”
Pretty professional if you ask me. I used to have people try and fight me whenever I did it, but when I stepped out of the car they quickly realized I was to not to be trifled with.
We pulled into the airport relatively quickly, a normal day if any down south, fairly tranquil, slow even. Quickly, pulling all my luggage out as fast as I could I tried to hop onto the curb in one piece and swing everything with me all in one fell swoop to swiftly walk in. Shuffling up the concrete floors of the terminal, I walked up to the security gate. Shoes, belts, hats, coats you need them all off before, or they get mad at you for the right reasons. Sometimes people try to bring guns through this place still thinking it’s the golden age or something along those lines. Can’t blame them, given how everything is going right now, but we can all still dream a little dream of a different present.
Phone, keys, wallet all bagged quickly stuffed in my pack. I tried not to screw up any of the requirements because am not a fan of getting held up. I lifted my hands up, positioned and moved in the machine, scanned, walk through collect your items and, just like that it’s over. Walking with shoes on like slippers, my phone in mouth, wallet in hand all while guiding the luggage. This world is not reasonable that’s all that can be said. Practicing bobbing left to avoid crowding tourists and then to the right to find food. I wandered around the airport for a bit, by nervously pacing around the restaurants, and shops because I usually liked getting there two to three hours early, it helps calm my nerves. I also appreciate a solid “Airport Beer” when south bound and down, or a “Blood Mary” if I am north bound, and yearning. I sat around, awkwardly, listening to songs and trying very hard to ground myself.
I find a juice stand, fresh pressed blue lemonade. I get some crispy, darkened and still hot fries.
I end up talking to my mom, and sometimes these conversation they don’t translate like sometimes a hit, sometimes a miss, right now speaking with her helped. I realize these moments are also limited, and I’ll have to just remember how to maneuver life all on my own without her eventually. Especially now, as they begin boarding,“gotta delta,” as they say, and I end my call. I wait for them to call the group number for the people boarding. Not long, the line moves quickly, which was nice for a change. The jet bridge creaked under my feet, now it all felt very real. Three hours on a plane, so I read Dune.
Flying into New York City once again. This next part goes by quickly. I found myself struggling to keep up in between the moments, trying hard to catch it all as it unfolded. I had to keep up here a new quest was presenting itself, to make sure everything went smoothly. (Or, at the very least, avoided total catastrophic failure and disaster.) I had a vague understand of what was to pass, but nevertheless it was time to find out.
JFK was chaos it felt good flying in, but everything in the terminal was under construction, and most of the transit has been re-routed and moved to a secondary location. The move was frantic and everything felt like it had no place being there. All the feet, eyes, and wheels. Trying to cut through the noise I play a song, NUEVAYoL- bad bunny. The energy hectic, the vibes unwinding, it felt like the world was filling with water, and it was just surging through the space all at once.
Liminal Spaces are strange connectors between moments like having conversations with a stranger on a roof top, or on the internet. So many different people’s lives layering over one another. Some people call them energy vortexes. This place is huge. Airports are liminal in nature, no vortexes needed. It is sometimes tempting to run into people not paying attention, but then I do the same, and we share this moment together, trying to find where to go, and eventually hopefully getting back home. Maybe wiser, maybe more experienced, but at the very least well traveled, loved. Summoning the next car encountered some issues at first. Going to the wrong place, I wait longer, when it does arrive I then go to the wrong place, we both eventually figure it out.
The Bronx–Whitestone Bridge gave a clear view of Manhattan in the distance, and the sunsetting in the horizon. We got there pretty quickly that day, nothing was really going on in the airport, so it felt like an easy ride mostly rain, light showers, light overcast. Under a few bridges the Metro pulled along the track as we road the car across streets, through tunnels, down streets, and around corners. Eventually, we make it deeper into Brooklyn. “Williamsburg” it feels new but it’s an older neighborhood with even older roots, and now it is getting a lot of new money pumped into it.
It feels surreal how beautiful life really is. The sun setting on the city skyline everything soaked in a burnt orange. I’m caught in between it all as night falls on everything, and the sun begins to set in the horizon. A heat-wave begins to wash over.
We all try to coordinate; everyone is somewhere else right now. I pull my bags up to the curb. I get a text, a new number, and I’m told to wait so someone can let me in.
I introduce myself briefly. Brevity. We walk up the marble stairs of the hallway. This place everything felt like it was moved a hundred years into the future, and still standing. The ornate metal and glass now lost to time though.
We walk through the front door of the unit, and for a brief moment I am taken back years. Quickly, I am greeted, so quickly, so many new faces. Quickly, I am not sure what to think, or expect, and basically operating off my autonomic mind. Quickly now, the crew assembles this the first time seeing mostly everyone. We are now going to a bar, just down the street for… a moment.
“Maracujá” it says in metal letters on a wall painted black. Passion fruit. We walk through its wood lain doors peaking through the clear glass planes. It’s late now but everyone is buzzing with energy. The group begins to make their way around, following an invisible flow, the moment swiftly passing as we make a bee-line to the bar. Everything has a red hue from the lights here. We start to drink and talk as time passes, everyone smiles, shakes hands, and laughs. Then we all start bottoming drinks. As the night continues I am introduced to the crew, the goal, and the story.
“THE WORLD IS IN THE PALM OF YOUR HANDS”
We drowned in more chocolate colored beer, and silver liquor. My faculties slowing more, and more, from flight fatigue, fatigue from night as we pushed on, still just tired from everything. We crawled from one pub, to a bar, then a lounge, and the alcohol helped with ride. It felt lucid most of this felt like a dream, like I shouldn’t be here, and that I am stranger in this place, even where I am supposed to fit in.
We began rambling back to the toward the studio everyone’s feet feeling the loose excitement of the air, things were happening, and we were about to capture the moment,
“Vibe Camp.”
It was late by then and the party was breaking up, people nodding off, speaking slurred, almost time to go home. We ended up taking a detour, and wandered into another space instead, empty buildings in the meat packing district, a sign that says, “Peace Bombs” written inside what looks like Fat Man inked on a white sheet plastered on the brick wall. No Response. We summon a ride home.
III
The next morning, I found myself waking up next to a couple of strangers on a couch, they were with us the night before, I am bad with names. One had been staying there, but they were not coming to camp. One was coming to camp, another one had not arrived yet, one had arrived that was coming to camp as well… it seemed we were still missing people.
Everything was very cordial but even then the mood quickly switched!
Back to business! We had to ensure that the crew could even make it out to the country side of Maryland. We haven’t even left Manhattan yet. We only had one car at the moment, and we had a lot of equipment to move… and soon to be a lot of people too.
Move quickly now, more people, everyone is getting ready, we were supposed to arrive earlier during the day, but but we didn’t.
Coordinating a rendezvous from separate locations has proven to be a logistically arduous task. Especially when the boroughs are split amongst the bridges, various train lines and subway routes. Amongst other problems that come from traversing around the city, like parking.
3 hours came and went. It is, in fact, a lot harder to source an SUV than anticipated
This entire ordeal seem to be from our perspective being: the companies’ inability to source a sizable vehicle within the city, as the company seems to rely on the same subset of cars for their rentals.
Curious? maybe. Bottleneck? maybe. We break into parties and one group ends up in La Guardia for a moment to get a car, while everyone else prepares for the departure. After some strange encounters our driver, various discussions about crypto tokens, and paying $400,000 alimony in Doge, and the a sixty-five dollar ride up, ouch. It didn’t seem to hurt so bad in comparison. Our driver sounded like the parrot from Aladdin, I swear to god.
With the stress levels increasing exponentially we are now cutting into daylight hours. After a couple of card declines, and a few fraud phone calls with my bank, they aren’t used to me not being poor it seems.
“Wallah”
We have a second car, the Wagoneer. I take a moment to collect myself, the car is massive, features a huge display, and so many things to make cruising a sport, truly a landship. Now, I find myself driving through the boroughs back to Brooklyn. Under the same bridges and intersections, the sky line lit up, and the whole city within view, brightest day. It’s moments like these that you know your life is changing, you can hope to keep up, so most importantly, don’t blink.
The city had a magical vibe in many ways. It is pulling you to different places to witness how much life is within, and exposing you to many different people, ensouled, or not. At this point the day was already passing the prime meridian, and we were still trying to organize enough to ensure all of the participants were ready to go.
no getting out of dodge without these cowpokes.
Everything packed inside the trunk like Tetris. Each piece fitting together in an almost artistic fashion, and we got everything in, cameras, cards, clothes, cabin materials and just enough space, so we could stop for more stuff later. We had a car now after all.
Most of the daylight was lost to traveling, and getting out of Manhattan, in the middle of traffic. It was my first time driving in New York City, and wow! It is just like it is in the movies. Taxi Driver. We are about to have fun. The cities’ a concrete jungle, as they say. I end up doing some wild maneuvers to cut lanes and not budge, before getting into the Holland Tunnel. Lots to think about when you’re here. The food is pretty good, and getting around feels like an adventure.
We begin crossing under the Hudson River. The tunnel is laid with white tile. Rows and rows of tiny ceramic plates only broken apart by tunnels and doors, endlessly lining up, blending together into a mosaic of teeth, some chipped, some broken.
Eventually, we emerge to see “New Jersey” and the arms of the cranes hanging high, huge structures like a skeleton hugging the coast, it was massive the shipping yards. The container ships resting in the bay seemed unreal, I’d never seen anything like it before.
The light filled the air and everything felt so huge. I am trying to hold down my excitement this is as far out of the city I have ever been. When I was last here they’d trace you, check where’d you go, and make sure you were staying put. Masks required, national guard was called in too made it all feel more legit, very real. We passed through everything, so quickly then I saw it, for the first time in my life. Absolute Dream she was.
“it’s crazy, it’s all copper,”
I’ll never forget what they did to The New Colossus. But right in the bay, the statue of liberty, bright as day.
The crew was a caravan now, making our way down south toward the swamp, as they say. We had to pull off somewhere between Delaware and Philadelphia to continue staging and prepping. Also food because I hadn’t eaten all day. So we stopped at a strip mall, dealt with the jug handles, the round abouts until we all made it to same spot. We were about a three hour drive to the middle of nowhere, Maryland.
The camping co-op had so many over priced supplies, its crazy how much they’re pushing inflation these days. I bought a cape, it doubles as a blanket, it made the experience softer, more palatable. More supplies for everyone! The car was filled with camping supplies, fresh veggie burgers and fries. The drive was filled with talks about our modern society, life, our place in it, what’s going on across the Atlantic.
A lot of heavy thoughts about things to be sad about, and entirely out of our power to deal with, we can only hope cooler heads prevail, and we don’t end up blowing ourselves up over a couple of books. But, this isn’t The Satanic Verses, and I am not trying to get into that can of worms right now.
Daylight began burning into Nightfall. It seemed like we were never going to get there, another hour and half of driving, even after all that rushing around we are still The Midnight’s Children. By the time we made it out into the woods, it was already dark most of the campsites were cloaked in darkness, a mystery for now. There was an individual playing video games, or doing something I couldn’t really see, on a old television in a gazebo, but otherwise there weren’t very many souls around just yet.
Did you ever go to summer camp when you were younger? The whole time thoughts of Flaming Arrow crossed my mind, lost to time, flash backs to childhood I couldn’t stop replaying. (if you never got the chance to go to vibe camp maybe you still can go because they say they have it every summer in Maryland) I was taken back by it all, it hadn’t rained in Texas in five months, and here it was already soaking wet. They told us we could take the cars down to the cabins for a moment unload, and grab a bite to eat in the white house, we are some of the first people here.
The car rumbled against the dirt and shifted pavement. The ground was rocky and we shook back and forth down the hill toward the red cabin in the wagoneer. The door lit the ground with it’s label, we call that aftermarket luxury. No tents, not this time. Barely any service, most of my phone basically useless beyond a camera, and messaging abysmally. Don’t even think about it because it probably won’t work outside of the hill tops. We met the hostess, got some snacks, settled in.
The cabins were solid wood. Four little rooms, with two big spaces in the center consisting of a parlor and the dorm style shower. The structures themselves, Lincoln log. And, it honestly felt kind of cute given that I mostly anticipated sleeping on the floor or spring style mattress from the early 2000’s but this was pleasantly surprising, exciting even.
We forgot to buy sheets.
Mostly everyone was about settled in, and we were trying to find our own little spots within this massive space. It also felt so wildly strange to be back at camp, especially as an adult, normally my vacations consist of staring at my computer for eight, or more hours… and then a different set of walls for ten more. For some reason this broke that loop again.
We took our time. My friend began setting out all the equipment, and I went to one of the other backroom sections. I wanted to have a more evenly spaced sleeping situation with everyone, considering we were going to be here a few days. I don’t like feeling cramped in an enormous room. It makes me feel like the walls have ears and can talk.
Everything was laid out in neat order, and I made sure to find a spot for all my items. I wanted to put each thing in a dedicated place, laying each one out into a specific location, so I would remember if they were moved and lost. The cabin inside was a bone white color. (people in the city love to call it the “landlord special,” which seemingly every property owner loves to lather everywhere to ensure it still feels fresh) But what do know!~ I had to withdraw from interior design when I was in college. I am sure there’s a method to the madness, that’s what I get for trying to make bubble chairs.
I had to check the shower, so many bugs, but the sound of rushing water, hot water, washes that all away in an instant. The greatest thing on this earth… well maybe right next to sliced bread.
I get cleaned up while we waited for everybody. More people appeared to be staying in the cabin, and I was so surprised.
I drove the car back up the hillside and parked it in line with the people staying, and tried do my part to help keep it organized.
We walked to this big white house, everyone was passing through there for a moment to collect their faculties before bed, raiding the fridge for whatever Baja Blasts, left over pickles, and oranges we could find.
The energy and excitement was as rich in the air. Like, the fireflies lighting the fields. There’s something special about this. A special you feel. Like when you look up and you see Orion and the milky way. we are all caught here Somewhere between Altair and Vega.
Challenge yourself, challenge your expectations of self, challenge what people think you are, challenge your own expectations for how things should be and be open to what could be! Support your personal growth, a lot of these lessons just come from going through it and crashing out. The work is never done though and reward comes from the practice and motion. It felt like rolling a boulder up a hill, but the first task was completed.
We had an early morning to catch up with shots we missed, and everyone was going to be showing up to camp soon.
“Always remember that you can just do things”
(end session: Part I)
