Are You Carny?

Emay and I started a small beach fire and settled into our camp chairs, craning our necks to enjoy the rare view of coastal starlight. Several hundred yards up the beach, a bonfire blazed. Thick, black clouds periodically rose from the distant fire, the smell of burnt plastic wafting down the beach, occasionally reaching us. We muttered about rednecks and wrinkled our noses.

After awhile, I stood, stretched, and stepped out of the firelight to pull off my long-sleeved shirt, exposing my chest to the cool night air, before pulling on the leather vest and adjusting my leather chaps.

"Okay, Emay, here I go. You know how to work the camera?"

"Yep. I do. You signal me when you want me to hit record."



Usually I savor the post-fireplay rush produced by flame against flesh, heat dancing on lips, adrenaline pumping. But this time I was startled when a dog's glowing collar and rattling tags announced the otherwise-stealthy appearance of Drunken Local One. He swayed as he entered the circle of light, clutching a tallboy.

"Hello?" Emay called out nervously.

"Hey there, ladies," he said, slightly slurry. Then addressing me, "You're crazy!"

I sighed. Though attracting attention was inevitable with fireplay, I really wasn't in the mood to entertain a drunken stranger. "Yeah. That's what they tell me." I walked away, rustled around in my firebox, wishing he would go away so I could take off the leather vest and pull on the soft wool shirt without showing my breasts to some random drunk guy. After a few minutes of rambling on about my obvious insanity, he finally took the hint from our silence and non-engagement.

"Alright. Didn't mean to disturb you. Just drawn to the fire."

"Have a good night," I chirped, happy as he finally sauntered off.

Emay was anxious. "Wasn't that weird? Just to sneak up on us like that? I think that's weird, Moss."

"Yeah, it was," I acknowledged. In an effort to calm her nervousness, I added, "But maybe he thought we could see him walking up. Maybe he didn't know it was creepy. Maybe he was too drunk to think about it."

After sitting for a few minutes, watching the video on the tiny camera screen, and waiting for Drunken Local to move further down the beach, I spun poi, dancing barefoot in the sand. I dipped and re-dipped. Recorded, reviewed, erased, and re-recorded, missing the best performances and then futilely trying to recreate the best moments . . .



As I finished what I thought would be my last round for awhile, Drunken Locals Two, Three, Four, and Five approached. Drunken Locals' two dogs walked right into the fuel station, knocking lids off cans, spilling fuel. Again Emay called out to them before anyone acknowledged their presence. "Hello?" Her voice had the distinct twinge of irritation. Don't people know it's rude to approach a fire without signaling arrival?

"I was just finishing," I said to them, dropping my smoking poi on the firebox.

"Aww, but we wanted to come see up close! We been watching you for awhile down the beach."

"Okay, okay, I'll light up one more time," I conceded, figuring that making it performance-esque would perhaps keep them from feeling invited to stay and hang out at our campfire with us. I stooped to shoo away the dogs, upright the fuel cans, dip my wicks, and confer with Emay, who seemed agitated.

"This is freaking me out," she whispered. "There are four drunk guys here and two of us. I don't feel safe."

"It'll be okay," I whispered back. "Energetic boundaries. We're safe. They won't hurt us - I can just feel it. We're okay."

Standing, I addressed the Drunk Locals. "Here's the deal. I have open fuel over here, so keep your dogs away from me and the fuel, okay? Also, don't walk over here with lit cigarettes. Open fuel. Get it? And don't walk up behind me when I'm lit up. I can't hear you or see you when the toys are on fire. Okay?"

The Drunken Chorus:

Dogs! C'mere!
Wow, lots of rules.
Oh, yeah, yeah, we get it.
I don't smoke cigarettes.
Dogs! Come back here!

During the performance and afterward, the Drunken Chorus continued:

Wow!
That's amazing...
What kind of gas do you burn?
Probably propane. Must be propane.
How do you not burn yourself?
Man, you got balls, girl.

And then one question came from Drunken Local Three, who asked me in a serious tone:

Are you carny?

I laughed. "Am I what? Carny? No. I wouldn't say I'm carny." Images of thick-knuckled men with cigarettes dangling between their lips while they operated a merry-go-round flashed before my eyes. Emay later told me that she thought he'd asked if I was horny, fueling her nervousness at the scenario.

"Where'd you learn how to do that if you ain't carny?" he challenged me. "Where'd you learn to do that?"

"Well, I lived with fire spinners for awhile, and I learned from them."

He thought about that for a moment.

"Oh. So you ARE carny."

Sunny Seattle

My well-loved pink sunglasses recently broke, so I was thrilled to find another pair upon entering Bumbershoot in Seattle Saturday morning. R took the following little mpg of me in those rose colored glasses that make the world look extra-beeeeautiful.



Other highlights from my weekend in sunny Seattle, in addition to hanging out with SLC friends who flew in for the festival:
- log cabin house where I stayed and slept under a fairy tree
- meeting Shanti's folks!
- laughing in an Irish pub with a couple of makeup'd clowns from Vau de Vire, fresh from BRC
- Rude Mechs doing Get Your War On (flash link)
- shaking my ass to the Aggrolites
- Ingrid and Heidi blessing the crowd with their loveliness (unfortunately the mpg I tried to take didn't turn out)
- getting turned on to Rodrigo y Gabriela
- DeVotchKa as the perfect end to a perfect festival day
- Cyclecide, the Heavy Pedal Cyclecide Bike Rodeo - see video below

* * *

After driving home Sunday afternoon, I finally hauled myself and my firetoys down to the bi-monthly firejam under the Marquam Bridge on Sunday nights. I was dead tired, hadn't lit up for over a month, but happy to hear the swoosh and feel the heat and play with burning fuel. After all, I am an Aries Fire Dragon.

Then today was my first potluck gathering in my new space and a very nice way to warm my house a month after setting down my first box, wiping my brow, and wondering WTF I'd done. What I'd done was follow my instinct/heart, and the rest is falling into place just as it should. As usual.

Farewell (Faring Well)

The choppy and disoriented tone of the last few posts may persist as I settle into the first Big Move of my life. Abrupt, jerky movements have manifested as nasty scrapes and bruises all over the lower half of my body from stumbles and lurches.

Remember to breathe, Moss.

The See-Ya-Later Party was beyond words. The love I felt, the bright eyes and tight heart-hugs, the laughter, the touching things people wrote in my self-proclaimed "SLC YearsBook." And tonight I just saw some incredibly beautiful and heartfelt writing by Chicory about moi and feeling our friendship in my core.

***

Now I'm sitting amongst boxes, filled with the knowledge that stuff, in general, is just superfluous anyway. Although toothbrushes are nice.

Staff Love

I know there have been a LOT of fire pictures posted to this blog lately. But I've already confessed that it's an addiction/obsession. And this blog is all about self-indulgence anyway, right? I was so pleased Marky got these shots of me at my graduation party. I've been so poi-oriented lately that my staff was feeling quite neglected. So here's proof that I still love my staff. (Although poi definitely kicks ass ...)

Element XI 2007: The Emerald City

B and his crew spent six weekends and many hours building the Emerald City tower. Complete with a chill space in the belly of the structure and a ramp to access the stage on top (where RandyCandy, aka The Wizard, performed the first E11 wedding), the big burn structure was impressive indeed. Everyone kept calling it "the effigy" but I always thought an effigy was a dummy representing a person ...













Glinda (aka the lovely CoCo), welcomed us to the Emerald City. I was lucky enough to camp mere feet from the good witch, which undoubtedly cast blessed spells of goodness on my entire experience.














I was also lucky to have artistically inclined friends nearby when I needed help getting ready for the fireshow before the big burn. I was the throat chakra (see the cool choker I made?!) and if you can imagine a blue wig added to the mix, you've got the image of my full costume).


The Temple Burn

I've already posted pictures of building the temple; here's a couple great shots Chris C got of the temple burn morning. Yes, I didn't wash my face after the fireshow. I was a blue-faced grrl alllllll night long. And well into the next day, actually. If my smile seems a little off-kilter, it's probably because I smiled for the sake of the camera, but was undergoing an incredible transformation as a cathartic release rattled my skeleton and shook the bugs loose. Release!

The Pictures I Was Awaiting

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My roadtrip with J to the desert last month was amazing. I just got the photos of that adventure and want to post a few here.

Backyard Burns

I'm obsessed. I can't get enough. I light up my firetoys at any and every conceivable opportunity. Like Friday night at J's party and Saturday night in my own backyard. Sunday night after leaving practice for the Element 11 fireshow, I stopped by Chicory's place and played some more in their driveway. Having already spun my new heavy poi for two hours in practice, I was a little off my game, but whatever. My fire addiction knows few bounds, it seems.

K took the photo above and posted more to her blog here.

***

Time Spiralizer

The three years it took me to finish my juris doctor flew by. Flew. Where did they go? It feels like yesterday that I was bemoaning my stress-induced cold sore on my first day of law school orientation week. And now I'm out, facing a bar exam in July, heavily indebted, and more disillusioned about The System than ever before. Nevertheless, these years have brought about a host of changes, internally and externally for me. I'm learning to open my throat chakra, to tell myself Truth so that I can be genuinely honest with others. I left the marriage/partnership/family that took me on my journey through my twenties. I learned to hold my tongue. I learned to listen, even when I had a LOT to say in response to what I was hearing. I learned to change my mind. I started to smile and laugh more than ever (this was despite law school, not because of it). I learned how to play with fire. I remembered that I am fun and that I deserve to be happy.

After my last final, I headed to the desert for five days. Moving to the Northwest in ten short weeks, I knew my opportunities for redrock mystery and wonder were limited, and I thoroughly enjoyed the hot days and chilly nights and of course spinning fire under a rising full moon.

Life is truly a grand and glorious blessing.

Oh, bummer! The photoCD from my latest trip has a huge heat bubble and won't read on my computer! I will have to get J in Alaska to send me another disk with the images so I can post some of my favorites from that trip here. In the mean time, here are a few shots of my fireplay at the graduation party at my house ...




This one is the lovely Gypsie in the foreground with me in back. (Thanks, Jeff!)

NightBeachFire

After driving twelve hours to Portland during the first weekend of spring break, I picked up my friend Melinda and we continued on another two hours to the coast. I spun fire all night long as the rain misted around us, soaking my wicks, and I burned up an entire gallon of white gas. Though my technique is rusty and I'm grossly out of practice, spinning fire through the night while the surf raged and surged behind me and the rain fell softly and the wind made the flames dance -- this was exactly what I needed.

fire fire fire

Click here for more from that day by another photographer.