Wednesday, August 17, 2011
I started this blog nearly two years ago now. It was originally a project for a viral marketing class. I wanted to create a website where people who wanted to travel off the beaten path could find the secrets of hidden wonder everywhere they went. I've suddenly found myself in the midst of a year long traveling adventure. Over this year I have learned how to truly walk upon the road less traveled. I have found myself in the most ridiculous situations. In and out of the jungles and forest of North and South America. Meeting the street bums of Haight Ashbury and living it up in the posh lands of New York City. I started this website before I knew what it was to be a traveler. To go with the wind. Still asking Google to dictate my plans.
Travel isn't about seeing those places on a map that scream tourist attraction. Or asking a tour guide to teach you all they know about the history. Its about meeting a local in a coffee shop who offers you a ride in his RV to a full moon party he knows about. Or asking a bus driver to let you out before the stop because the view from the window is too beautiful to ignore. We travel to follow our intuition. To find out where life takes us when we surrender to the flow. I hope these stories and life trinkets inspire those of you who think choosing to be free isn't an option. I started this year with nothing. A lost wallet and a lost cell phone, forced into the dance of life by unknown forces. Anything is possible. Adventure is everywhere. The spice of life lightens the sense of everyday. Sunshine sprinkling on a hidden cloud. Lost in the ethers of the Boondocks. I come to you from the forest, from the mountain top from the city. These stories are memoirs of what can happen when you let go and let the magical unfolding of existence create an origami masterpiece.
Enjoy the unknown, discover the unimaginable, and blast into the future without fear. Discover yourself on a lost leaf or in the eyes of a companion. Reach in your heart and extend your passion. Take in the unfolding and bask in the pleasure of the moment.
photo by Jessica Rose Lehrman: Can buy her zine on Etsy
Saturday, August 13, 2011
This is a response to the Gaia My Playa project and website. Check it out if you're still looking for a ticket
Burning Man is a catapult, a dream, a whisper, a scream, An essence that rises from sands of a lake bed. A whirling sensation that tickles your toes in the middle of winter. Its the thought that after all this we're still gonna make it, humanity. A place where your best friends flourish their souls and greet unknown smiles with familiarity. The dawn of a new age. Where you're more likely to watch the sunrise than the sunset. Its not a city, a festival, or a place its a dream where the dreamers live. Where Gods and Goddesses collide and dance into the eternal light of sun and moon, yin and yang, masculine and feminine. Its a place that grasps the fullness of existence. Yo-yoing through a lively hood of mechanics. Winding up thoughts ideas and expressions and shoots you off into the vastness of humanity to spread light and love. Burning Man is a teacher, a place where mortals no longer exist yet we experience the highest intensity of our mortal selves, only the creatures of the universe transcending fractalited bodies on Aquarius cacophonies of expansion. Where astrologers tell stories to travelers and travelers uplift the weary with new found strength.
I waited for the Playa for four years, finally 2010 the Metropolis awaited. Its been nearly a year since the Playa stripped away my everything. Life and belongings accidentally packed away on an RV headed for NYC, my body and spirit headed the other direction to San Fransisco. So the adventure began. I've been gypsy vagabonding ever since, experience earth, culture, people, worlds, growing expanding with every step my fishy flow takes me. Now I'm ready for a full circle, to come back to the Playa, to give back what it is it has given to me. To be there as an inspiring force for all those other first timers, to pass on traditions, to share art, to expand the ever expanding family of burners, and lovers. To teach. To heal. To instigate. To regenerate. To create. with those who I know matter the most. And those I do not yet know matter.
You said you wanted to give this ticket to the person with the most honest response. Well I cannot honestly tell you that this ticket should be mine. This ticket belongs to the world. It belongs to every being that believes in the capacity of our universe and the power of the heart. It belongs to the man sitting next to me in the coffee shop, it belongs to the woman across the world who will never hear the words "Burning Man". Burning Man is for all those who hope for a better world, and I cannot ask you to give me this ticket. I cannot ask you to deprive another human of the emotion of pure ecstasy and wonder that one feels when cascading across the Playa in a never ending motion through a dust storm floating in the wind of wonderment. Or what it feels to fall in love on the Playa sand with your twin flame beneath a glowing yellow full moon. Of the freedom of expression in a dance when every particle of your being is released and turned to one with the cosmos. But what I can say is that I am meant to be at Burning Man this year. To come not as only as a child of innocence and naivete but as a wise soul ready to teach and share knowledge that I have gained since my first Playa experience. Not until I am there will I know my true calling to this years Rites of Passage, but I know deep in my heart that I must complete the year cycle, to return home to thank the place that has blessed me with a year I couldn't have imagined before my feet touched the dusty sands of the Black Rock City. To learn, share, grow, catapult, and join again with humanity to share with those who couldn't experience and grow the Burner Spirit. I can only hope that you will help me in my journey.
Love to all, and blessings on our ever-changing path, with a kaleidoscopic visions. Never stop the dream, always share the spirit, and turn adventure into wisdom, into love.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Thursday, July 14, 2011
In an enchanted forest we lost our minds, questioned existence, and swayed in the wind to sounds of the tribe. Sound Tribe Sector Nine has been making music since 1999. In 2007
STS9 started the first Re.Generation festival in Horse Shoe, North Carolina. Now, four years later, the show has re.emerged, gathering the tribes on the West Coast for four days of music and STS9. This weekend they let loose as bassist David Murphy rejoined the crew after battling cancer. Reunited they played their souls fullest for the next generation.
When the tribes gather in the forest creation, synchronicity, wonderment, and falling leaves crumble together in an ecstatic dance. Electrifying Horning’s Hideout like the vibrancy of the peacock feathers nestled in the grasses, we bumped to the bass. Bouncing together along the hidden hills, we welcomed in the summer sun.
While we frolicked in the green of Northwest summer forests, settling into the trees of our four-day home, our ears were taken over by sounds of electro future storms. Octopus Nebula, with jumpsuit and space goggles pulled the wide-eyed festy goers out of the forest and into the bowl. Futuristic electro sounds, coupled with a look of fantastic retro space, shades, we enter into Re.Generation with a jolt.
Glitch Mob opened the weekend with epic intensity. Technology meets nature, when dubsters meet hippies, we all join in the non-stop dance extravaganza. Glitch Mob played with a live flare they have lacked in past performances. Raging on stage with drums and silk aerials to a crowd just becoming alive with the sound and vibrations of what would become an epic 4 days.
Big Gigantic started out the first full day of music. Calling on the audience for a sun dance, Friday became the day of bounce. Big Gigantic's fusion of Bassnectar’s womps and the floating electrodes of STS9, the music begins pumping people up for the night ahead.
Lynx followed in the fairy like wonderment of the Sawmill Stage. Shrouded in trees, the one-woman sound of Lynx, vibrated in the green nook. Igniting our fiery passion with her beat box knocks she sky rockets the crowd into another dimension when she lets out her voice. During her raw performance of Tricksters and Fools she fully engaged the crowd, unlike some new artists who are hiding behind their DJ booth.
Friday was the first set of three STS9 performance throughout the weekend. With many more to come, and Bassnectar being the main attraction of the evening, this set was low key. They didn’t hit the crowd like their music would, come Saturday.
We couldn’t stop thinking about him before he came on, we couldn’t stop feeling him while he was playing, and we couldn’t stop talking about him after he finished, Bassnectar stole the show at Re.Generation. We asked for it and he happily obliged, maybe we didn’t know what we were in for. He hit bass that tore my brain and scrambled my body, with visuals that did the same. Little did I know that face melting music existed before this “Bass in your Face” set. A wild crowd set topsy turvy by a long haired wonder. He shattered out bass heads then gently set us down with a slow tempo farewell, lightening us off to Tycho’s amazing set.
Whatever it was that Bassnectar had exploded in the crowd Tycho gave it all back. For the generation that got re.tardation at Bassnectar, Tycho gently tossed us that grounding magic to bring us back to earth. Like dandelions in the summer evening of Oregon bliss, the crowd swayed to beautiful visuals and sounds that whispered to our souls.
The creation of this line up fortified the musically obsessed and drug fried community of the magical monsters temporarily housed in the enchantment. Like a snowglobe sprinkled with glow sticks, the forest was electrified. Seeing the entire line up of amazing musicians, the crowd meanders back and forth between the two stages. Each sound stacked perfectly upon the past performance as if a magician knew bodies and minds perception of a post Bassnectar, Tycho, and the necessary downtime after the body womping of Friday. Saturday was exactly the chilled out flowing contact dance vibe we had all needed.
Malah, Inspired Flight, Elliot Lipp and Lotus all flowed with mellow, sweetness, and down tempo low beats. The crowd Swaying in sea foam green, waiting for the sun to come out and play. Enjoying the rays as they hit through the trees and glistened on the tails of festy creatures. Glitching together the stories of the night before, the day felt like soaring through clouds between stages. Melting into each other as we regain our minds from the debauchery before.
For three days STS9 brought their utmost to the stage, but Saturday they shared the utmost of their musical talents with the audience. Showcasing their fantastic ability to combine many styles, music fanatics of various backgrounds joined together in an eclectic array. From their jam band roots to their womping influences they gathered a varied crowd on the dance floor. For stomping boots and bare foot daisies that danced into the night.
Beats Antique followed, where the circus creatures come out to play. Their circus performers and on stage shenanigans always make for an interesting performance. Tucked into the woods the more tribal sounds of their drums shone through as the playful audience got strange.
Its Sunday and the dub is back. After the Saturday chill break, we get a combination of some differing types of Music, including that bass. Crawling through the forested hilltop Sunday gives way to calmness. Shenanigans fade as the high finally lifts and reality of the beautiful weekend sets in. Napping on hillsides over looking Break Science we fade into bliss and dissect the days.
A molasses crowd melts in slow motion to the tectonic beats of Eskmo at the Sawmill Stage. STS9 gives their final performance, and the last of the weekend, as people give the last of what their body has left to join together and celebrate the magic.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Like a fern stuck inside a dying tree, waiting to spill out and green the forest
Or a fish with too many streams to choose which, bumbeling along bubbles and sea monsters that know where they are going
These funny little lines and silly little stories
Like mucus creatures sliming out of our mouths
At sunset it all made sense, sunrise rose brings truths to dark romances
Your true glory isnt in what you can touch, but how you feel when you touch it, don´t bother caressing forms you can not see
You won´t hear yourself clearly with the distortions of echoes on a blank canvas sound obsorbed by the blanketed fire
Senses injustified islands caught in a whirlpool of swirling hurls my mind feeling like a swirling whirly topsy turvy zipper carnival ride still trying to digest my corndog
We trample the land with unknowing eyes
Ignorant beasts biting at the dragging coat tails of those less fortunate
Not caring to comprehend the future of our enterprise
Overtaken by a rainbow of colors the prism captured becomes one light bright and searching for direction
Expect the unexpected for expectations get you no where
Ninos tucked away rolling through greener grasses
Clasping hands drug into the fairytale
Adventure never ends
Twinkling Cusco fountains and tumbeling Quillabamban waterfalls
Dont forget the simplicity inside a coffee mug
You are the creater of the dream the creature of this moment
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Surrounded by shaman who don.t know their own wisdoms
Unlocking truths with keys made of river water and crystals
Life is spinning twirling in vanishing memories coming and going in pixie dust
Finding magical men in the forest with wild berry juice on their faces
Secrets lie in life and love and giving presents of abundance, that abundantly give
Tiring stories never end dancing in the twilight full moon circles
Showered with silver shinning bliss on the bare shoulders kissed
Swaying in trees in the silence of morning dew bliss caught in the cross roads questions the questions and perfection in the unknown
Guitars surrounded by accrobats circusing pirates devouring Dulce de Leche at midnight ceremonies
Delighting in the existence of being and nothing less...nothing less than humans and their beings
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Made of straw and stone
A barren wasteland brought to life by a people
Drifting by in guilty comfort my eyes fearful and tearful of lives unlived
Habitants hidden in their huts
Scorched by sun and life the weary tuck away
Mad Maxin. through dessert waves
Desserted sandy mountains ebb and flow
The beauty of forgotten land rising to the horizon
Engulf the highways, the earth.s heart
Opening, unfolding the world so close, dosed with magnificience
Untucked treasures make love to the soul and desires
Intervention sparkles at the silly notion of eternity
A saharan-peruvian princess masked from the sun
Staring out windows that dazzle with creation
The heavenly Goddess creature exposes her grandeur
Harsh heat, but loving laughter we cascade across the blue horizon
We are the dreamers of the dream
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Vines crossing in a jungle of spiritual knowledge
Jungle fruits and donkey calls
Chocolate goat milk devine
Mesmerized by Hawks in flight
I fall into the Earth
Tumbeling into never ending green
Engulfed by Ecuadorian Mountainsides
And disappearing wouldn´t matter because its all too beautiful
We forget about the world only a twinkling valley bellow
Echoes of reggeatone remind us that life and ufo.s exist
Going into battle we machette the hillside morning dew
Tenderling loving the garden in afternoon rain
Laughter floats in the wet winds, careening over hidden waterfalls
Hiding in lost boy lofts staring at the stars, listening to the secrets the trees tell the grass
Twinkling dewy wonders unlock stories of universes on brail patterned leaves
The smallest gallaxy spiraling fractals in the imagination
Goddess spirits collide, rejuvinating wonders, unlock fairy tale magic from the heart
The garden our playground the jungle our fortress
Learning, Loving, Living
A community on the hill
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Hours passed as trees flew by the wind carssed faces glowing with sun kissed radiance
Like beatnicked pondering posies we twined down mother.s path
Fists clenched into jaw shut eye lids
Teeth jittering round bounding turns over sloping hillsides
Bottomless tomorrows and sunrise todays
Pavement turning through cloud tops diving into misty forested underground
Hidden from reality of hills and forested countryside
Coaxed out by gravity and slow motion vehicles
Freefalling into the green and enveloped by the cascade
Vrooming by villagers basking in the load of a days work, while we ride by both in question of the other
Vertigo mountains melting in motion
Crystal castles in the morning light of dawn kissed hills
Spanish villas of open counry side sliding past eysight in colorful emotion
No sense unturned, rain drenched heads to soppy floppy toesicles, melted by coffee stands and empanadas made by lucious locals
Dropletts wash away fantasy
The soggy sweetness deepens on two floating bodies hoping tightly for dissapearing clouds
Awkward tensions seep with rain into muscels as laughter disapates the cold clenched hands
Lost in lyrical motion travelers part on a Valentine of synicism
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Fleeting into the greenery with the mist
Appearing on the other side in a mystic wonderland Garden Party
Emerald green walkways leading to River paths
Simplistic suprises winding on wandering whimsicle whispers of patterned daising
Winding up machete jungles of hidden showers
Bathing in shivering shimmering tumbles
Giggling golden sunshine into quintessential moments
Exploring temples of dreaming Krishnas
Luciditiy wanes in the lonely nights
Hugging heart roses of familiarity with warmth and light
Twinkling showering love into sexy nightmares
Words of confusion, charades of misunderstanding
Declaring defiance against the vastness of existence
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Sunday, February 6, 2011
conch shell mornings and chanting robed fairies whistling through the green and blue structures
encapsulating the sun warming peaceful blessed lunches
sacred temples and bodisatvahs
giving life for the reaping and harvesting of love souls lost
in the abiss of trains and planes and places to be
mango dripped hands attract french men with sweets and pastries
pretty pink paterns alight the pastel streets
crowded with the colors of a country
accompanied by strangers with stories of even stranger describing dangers in the distance
coffee over conversation making noises in the darkness
passing police with friendly ambiance wave goodye to foreign cries
language barries breaking friendship forms
cooking sizzling bubbles of concoctions over chanting hare krishnas
toothless intentions sing short and sweet, laughter in the air of scents in unknown senses
honey bananas drip away the day in secret gardens of rooftops glitering over senseless seas