Friday, February 23, 2018

Drawing to a close

this one's a pointless ramble.

The past 14 years I've had Shelter Valley running in my blood.
Even that first year, though I couldn't be there (I had a wedding to sing at) it was all I could think about.

It has been the weirdest of adventures.
From being thrown a job with no details on how to do it- and pulling it off in a magnificent way, to being told "you're kind of young for this other position, you'll likely not take it seriously and will move or something, I think you should volunteer in some other way". 
I always did my best.
Except when I didn't... I mean, I'm human. I let deadlines slip like any other person.

The last 4 years have been exhausting.

2014, I bought a ticket for the festival I loved so much. I took a break from the work of building a festival. I watched from the sidelines and stepped in to moderate where I could.

2015 had me sick with stress, over the moon with excitement, second guessing everything I did, slightly star struck with the people I was meeting and interacting with, sweating with stress, head in the toilet with stress. More proud than I'd ever been before in something I had done. And heartbroken over the way it all happened. I remember opening the gate for the public to come in on festival day: music was playing, people were dancing, there were tears of joy from volunteers and ticket holders. I had to run behind a tent, I couldn't stop gagging.

2016, a year of growth and excitement.

2017 more heartbreak and stress.

2 more months and this festival chapter closes at the AGM and a community concert.

I hope the joy outweighs the stress when we look back.
I think it does.

What does community look like?
How does it shape you?
How do you shape it?

Thursday, February 15, 2018

when I wrote

I'm blaming the day that I got rid of my flip phone.
On the fact that I don't take time to write anymore.Not just here, I even stopped journaling mid summer. It' just easier to stare at my smart phone and never record what's going on . Never think things through and process them.
Excuses excuses.

To say nothing of being homeless for the last year and a half.
Five beds.

Five different beds since I sold my house to take on this weirdo adventure known as life 2.0.
You can read about that here on the Ceeb. I signed something saying I wouldn't post my own story... being as they paid me for it.   (edit to add, holy crap- that article has been shared 1086 times????)

The February thaw has started and now I worry we're never finishing the house and OMG I just need to be settled somewhere and have something consistent, and need laundry to not be an issue, and I MISS MY DOGS.
Thank you hormones for this fresh burst of pity and tears.

Take a bow.