I arrived home from Artfest on Sunday, April 1st and intended to post all about it the next day. Monday found me in a total, exhausted fog - much more so than I had anticipated and so my post was bumped to Tuesday. Between trying to get rested up (still trying) and having company come for this week, here it is ten days later and I'm finally getting around to it.
It's probably just as well I didn't report right away. I was holding a handful of sand where each grain was a memory I didn't want to let slip through my fingers. I would have tried to tell you about all of them (and I'm trying to outgrow my reputation and someone who talks too much.) What's left of the sand after sliding back into normal life is mostly just that expanding sense of thankfulness that I feel for all that Artfest and it's people have been for me over the years. It has been the fertile soil, the garden itself, and a bountious harvest all at the same time. Even now, there are seeds awakening that will mature into more rich and soulfull, art-centered gatherings. Mark my words.
My two classes were awesome - the students were amazing. Not only did they create brilliant and rich work, they were also light hearted and playful. Judy helped me on the second day - a day with 32 students - and the amazing energy was strong there as well. So much openess. So much willingness to get dirty and experiment. You students...man...in this very moment I want to thank you for your energy which is just such an insufficient expression of how I feel towards those who join me so enthusiastically. You teach me so much about how fun art making is supposed to be. So, thank you.
And thank you to my housemates. My darling, kind, encouraging, funny, playful, soulfull, housemates. I love you all.
So today, in my retelling of my Artfest 2012 experience, I will share pictures. I have more than I usually remember to take this time around. For me the Artfest experience is as much about getting there and back (8-10 hour drive each way depending on traffic) as it is being there. On the way up, my mind is full of anticipation for all that awaits. On the drive home, the experience settles in my soul as it finds it's way in to some sacred fold where it can remain safe there when normal life becomes my all again. That normal life greets me at the door without so much as a sneeze-worth of time allotted for my recovery unless I insist on it. I'm there now - in that space of wanting to keep resting up and wanting to step fully back in to my hours here at home. The tether to life itself keeps me from being gone too long. I'm back to pony wrangling as usual. Every once in a while I have to spray them off with a hose full of strong, cold water to get their attention so's I can get a word in edgewise. You fellow brood mares know how it is.