Well, maybe not THAT much more – suffice it to say I had to get up at 5.30am to get out of Catonsville by 6am to get to Rowan’s by 7amto get equipment loaded by 7.30am to load in to the New Deal by 8am. Suffice it to say that I was crazy hyper all day but it was mostly an adrenaline high and a contact high from friends… suffice it to say that the day was awesome. Suffice it to say that we drove to Ohio the next morning and Sunday night I slept like a fucking rock.
My friend Sara slowly makes her presence known in the hair of the New Dealians. This is the hind-view of Jeff, our glowing, joyous, slowly beaten down to exhausted, sound-guy. He’s so very pretty! No?
More hair. Yeah – I thought it would be a little absurd for me to have MY hair like that too – but… well, yeah – good point… it’s about the only time it’s stopped me. Greta Ehrig did a set for the kids in the early morning hours of the New Deal Cafe Festival of Song. Her beautiful, gentle demeanour matched her beatiful, gentle voice and gave lie to the frenetic energy of the butterflies bobbing like insectile lunatics on her scalp.
Minus the itching.
But that’s a tale for another time.
Meredith Nnoka at the New Deal Cafe Festival of Song.
Ali Michelle gets some lyric help from her mom at Saturday’s Festival of Song. They are a beautiful pair of women and Ali continues to amaze me with her presence and voice.
Last night, Rowan, Christy, Sara and I went swing dancing. I will allow the space of the rest of this page for you to recover from this shock.
I know, I know, that wasn’t nearly enough space. So… swing dancing. Slow Slow Fast. Left, right, rock-step. Spin. I’m getting it! I’m GETTING it!! Wait.. what? Oh God… timing… goes to Hell… look into eyes, switch grip, start again on the one… I have a severe amount of trouble counting to 6 over a 4/4 rhythm. It truly drives me nuts.
In any case, I guess my horizons are slowly being forcibly expanded, and that’s healthy. We practiced in Rowan’s apartment for a while, the Squirrel Nut Zippers assisting our efforts. Sara kept insisting that she didn’t dance that well, but there’s an intensity to her eyes and hips that suggests otherwise. Rowan, of course, is a master, and Christy- well… you can’t really tell because I’m quickly seeing it’s all in how your lead. Well… IF you’re a good follower – Rowan tried hard with me, and I’m kind of a natural girl… but… I just… kept getting lost… in his liquid brown eyes… sigh…
Ashraf Dawod and half of ilyAIMY and a third of Might Could. One of the favourites of the festival, I admire his voice and the rhythms he sets up – after I thanked him for coming he responded with: “The day was absolutly wanderful, those of my friends who were able to come enjoyed it to the most! =D. I should be the one to thank you, for thinking so highly of my minimal skills. And the fact that one of musicians that I admire greatly asked me to be part of such a talent filled event, is nothing short of an honor to me. So THANK-YOU, for allowing me to be part of such a wonderful thing.”
Erica and Joanna being all sisters n stuff. I don’t know why this is going into the Journal, I just like this photograph alot. It’s my Journal and that’s reason enough. It was a hot day, too hot to move. You can see there that by then I’d abandoned my flaming boots.
Leaving the safe confines of Rowan’s apartment, we went over to K2 Dance Studio in Beltsville. After lots of “don’t worry, there will be lots of other newbies there” kind of encouragment, we find ourselves peering through the windows at people moving with a fluidity and grace I can’t but envy.
The whole thing reminded me of my experiences with karaoke. Ear-burning embarassment, something that I WISH I was good at coming very slowly… very unnaturally… Agonizingly, almost. For moments I could relax into it, and I’m not sure if I lost it more than I lost myself in it – but I did have a great time.
Kyle Justin (one of the ten finalists to open for Bon Jovi) came down from Philadelphia to play the New Deal Cafe Festival of Song. It was a day for losing lyrics and Sara helps him, laptop in hand, with a Ray Charles tune.
Yeah, I did more than just abandon my flaming boots. Heather said I looked ready to go clamming. For as much teasing as I got, I think it looks kind of… stylin.
Sharif found a way to keep us all cool.
an Zimmerman and half of ilyAIMY rocking out. His was one of the most emotional sets of the day – of course, by then I was so suffering from the sun I could’ve cried over a tuna commercial.
Tom Bianchi probably was probably the most shining star of the night. His sense of humour and crowd-working skills were in their perfect element outside at the New Deal, charming people standing in line for the theatre, all manner of passer-bys – it was incredible to watch him work. Truly flattering to have someone of his talent come all the way down from Boston for this.
There were moments of perfection – short segments of timing where the count locked and my arms felt strong and I was guiding and there was eye contact and mischief and the spin has a sharp start and stop to the momentum and you come CLOSE and then pull away and you’re not even breathing – and then the moment’s lost as your knees knock together and apparently you’re not supposed to be THAT close to your parnter…
Eh. it’s worth it. Every second. And when it comes down to it, SHE’S the one who stepped on MY foot.
And I say… “Er?” Swing dancing is steps and hips and rhythm. I got it all. It’s the combination that I find so… damned… tricky.
