folklifefolklifefolklifefolklife
May. 27th, 2004 07:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ironymaidenFolklife is this weekend. C has been eagerly anticipating its return for almost a year. me too. this time last year, C had been laid off since February. we weren't at our lowest point, but near it, he was depressed and i was feeling burdened with responsibility and frustrated with trying to divert him and self from worries about failing to pay the bills and then being on the left coast with the family on the right coast borderline gleeful about our failures. i wanted to escape by buying SIFF tickets and C wanted us to BE CAREFUL. i was loving being here and screaming because i couldn't do anything because there was no money and we had done every free thing we could find to do and we couldn't seem to meet people outside of work and even if we did i didn't want to spend another second in the house.
he probably remembers more clearly than i, but i know that we came across the festival kind of by accident, since it was not covered at all by either of the free newspapers, and we never saw more than the part in the window of the machine from the other two. maybe a sign by Seattle Center, since we had come to know Festal as a source of free happiness.
Folklife was days of free happiness. more free happiness than we could take in, including getting those full size yogurts and cups of pomegranate juice again and again. we danced and listened to music and watched real live morris dancers (and i thought that was some kind of Terry Pratchett joke thing. grown men with hankies and bells and pom poms) and played drums and lay on our backs in the grass and looked up at the space needle and relaxed. it fed my need for sensation and my xenophilia at the same time. and we felt blessed. and wretched when the button people came by, for Folklife runs on donations, and we had very little to give, and we felt that we were taking a lot.
by the end of the summer, we were both employed again, and all was rosy. we bought a full pass to Bumbershoot, but it was all commercialized and the food wasn't as good and really neither was the music. and it wasn't free. this year all is well. maybe we should be saving up to buy a condo, but our bid is still just hanging out there, so whatever. my heart isn't set on it. we'll be giving the Bumbershoot ticket money to Folklife. (even if i have to see stupid fucking anti-monorail propaganda) i look forward to scrubbing my soul clean with music and dance workshops and singalongs.
and the funnel cake. even if the "Pennsylvania Dutch" are from Lynnwood.
he probably remembers more clearly than i, but i know that we came across the festival kind of by accident, since it was not covered at all by either of the free newspapers, and we never saw more than the part in the window of the machine from the other two. maybe a sign by Seattle Center, since we had come to know Festal as a source of free happiness.
Folklife was days of free happiness. more free happiness than we could take in, including getting those full size yogurts and cups of pomegranate juice again and again. we danced and listened to music and watched real live morris dancers (and i thought that was some kind of Terry Pratchett joke thing. grown men with hankies and bells and pom poms) and played drums and lay on our backs in the grass and looked up at the space needle and relaxed. it fed my need for sensation and my xenophilia at the same time. and we felt blessed. and wretched when the button people came by, for Folklife runs on donations, and we had very little to give, and we felt that we were taking a lot.
by the end of the summer, we were both employed again, and all was rosy. we bought a full pass to Bumbershoot, but it was all commercialized and the food wasn't as good and really neither was the music. and it wasn't free. this year all is well. maybe we should be saving up to buy a condo, but our bid is still just hanging out there, so whatever. my heart isn't set on it. we'll be giving the Bumbershoot ticket money to Folklife. (even if i have to see stupid fucking anti-monorail propaganda) i look forward to scrubbing my soul clean with music and dance workshops and singalongs.
and the funnel cake. even if the "Pennsylvania Dutch" are from Lynnwood.
