Wild Goose 2013

OK, ready to write something about Wild Goose 2013. All the other posts about the festival I have read sound like this: "I went thinking it was going to be a horrible waste of my time, blah blah music blah blah authors blah blah, but then I had the transcendent moment and now I can see colors not normally visible by humans, travel in time, and transmute water into wine and I cannot wait to go back again." I don't feel that way. Here's what happened:

• I travelled with my whole family, an activity which I fear may become rare in the future, and so cherished every second, even when we were grumpy at each other.
• I met people who are doing scarily brave and beautiful things which make me feel shallow and useless in comparison.
• I hung out at campfires and pubs and under tents with friends that are full of awesome, that I get to see very rarely. Saw their children, drank coffee, hid from the rain, made s'mores and complained about things for comedic effect until the wee hours of the morning.
• I heard some music that I wanted to last for hours. I now want to move to North Carolina, just so I can someday play one note of music with the Collection
• I drank a cocktail for the first time in perhaps a decade, and I now need to drink more otherwise I'll have to admit in public that my favorite cocktail is a "Sweaty Hipster" (thanks Troy, sorry Mark, I was too chicken to try the bacon Manhattan).
• I created and executed a daring piece of performance art which flopped as designed, and then soared in an unexpected place.
• I pissed off and disappointed people by offering with my words to be more generous than I was willing to be with my body.
• I grabbed some random stuff from my spice drawer for a pork roast which, when grilled under the eye of grillmaster Mike Stavlund, was described as "the best thing i ever put in my mouth". ( ingredients: coffee salt pepper sage cloves cinnamon )
• I built a really cool sign for the Open Mic venue out of stuff you find at the hardware store that isn't normally used to makes signs.
• I saw a couple of people at the Open Mic light up as they realized that they, as humans, already had everything they needed to be people worth listening to.
• I ate a from a take out container of ribs, which friends brought me, and felt more blessed than I can ever remember.
• I went to Eric's tent and got a hand made coffee mug. He spoke disparagingly about his mugs, and about the act of giving them away, yet this was one of the coolest things for me at the festival. I felt like he had made one especially for me, and I think everyone who got one felt the same way.
• I wrote poetry.
• I trusted Troy to somehow make hot sauce, grilling, poetry, grief and musing on the creative process, all live together in one place, and it worked, which meant I read some poems into a complicated space created by friends, and it was gooood.
• I saw people talk about their books, not the ones they wrote to be famous, but the ones they wrote because silence was not an option.
• … and my usually favorite moment, the "my friends and anyone else I can find, sitting around reading poetry to each other", was again wonderful. Randy smuggled in some Bell's Oberon, which is, I am pretty sure, what they drank on Mt. Olympus, and we all amazed each other, as expected.
• I figured out, with the help of a friend, something in a curious space somwhere between self publishing and a book deal, which will be the perfect way to publish some of my poetry, and I am prety excited to get that going.
• I marched in a parade carrying a Giant Puppet Head, which should have been impossible except for the enthusiasm and energy of a band of men who may actually have been angels in disguise, they appeared suddenly to help make it happen, and then vanished once the deed was done.

When I read about what everyone else did at Wild Goose, I feel like I somehow missed something, because I didn't have the life changing mountaintop moment that I would remember forever like they did. Maybe I did, and don't see it, or maybe it was just one moment after another of goodness, which was plenty good enough.

Comments

[Mike Morrell]

Move to North Carolina, Michael! Let's make that happen. : )

[brett fish anderson]

sounds like a complete vibe and sounds like you were a huge part of making it that way [especially with all the rain]
i enjoy your writing Toy, you capture the heart of the message
would love to read some of your poetics - do you have a link or something?
have a day
love brett fish

Games!!!

[Steve K.]

"just one moment after another of goodness, which was plenty good enough." Amen, that was my experience, as well. Transcendence schmanscendence.

Oh, and, MOVE TO NORTH CAROLINA!!! YEAH!!!

[Doreen A Mannion]

thank you. your post made me laugh and made me cry, and for me said more about what WG should be than any photos or films or posters of well-known authors or singers or preachers or teachers ever could.

[Randy Blanton]

Thanks for your Herculean effort of carrying GOOFUS in the parade. I was honored to help, but certainly am no angel. Peace!

[Jon Eric Smith]

You are a blessing Michael . And I think you could get a job writing wine advertisements if you were so inclined .

[Michael Toy]

Brett, http://sudopoet.net/

[Michael Toy]

Randy, I'm sticking with my theory about the angels, that is what it felt like.

[andrew jones]

Sounds awesome, Michael, and also sounds like most days in our travels and life which we spend out of our truck, at campgrounds and on the way with hippies and travelers.

festivals rock. i am happy to see them pop up in all the countries and give us all a taste of the old camp meetings and other historical moments (feast of tents/tabernacles)

i really must get to wild goose one day

[pamela chaddock]

Michael, you always say it so good...

[Andrea Kortenhoven]

Just so you know: Life changing mountain top experiences are less mountain toppish and life changing than anyone dares to admit. They fade with time and eventually become footnotes if they make the final draft at all. What really matters is this present moment. Sounds like to me it is a moment of contentment. Hope to join in some day.