Ren fair 2019
personal journal 03-26-2019
I don't go out much. Bars, parties, restaurants, the mall... they all give me agita. That said, there are some few things i will suck up the xphobia for, and among these, the Tampa Renaissance Festival.
Thanks to my brother, The Witch Paul, who awaits this seasonal event with fanboy enthusiasm and open pockets, i was able to attend, not once, but twice this cycle!
If you have not experienced this awesomeness, and you should, what awaits you is an almost virtual immersion into a time past; of European Royals, peasants, and tradesmen; of maidens dancing, and oracles telling; of knights meeting steel, and hawkers calls for attention and coin. You may also see Han Solo, blaster at the ready, or Neo, lookin' smooth in black leather, or a guy wearing full armor made of Yuengling beer cases. I personally got a free hug from Panda Gal (you wish you were me).
Since my brudda pretty much lives at this place when they're in town and he's not working, he took me on a tour of all his cool friends that labor with the enterprise of concession, trade, and entertainment within this medieval bubble. He introduced me to a moustached juggler of great humor and kind aspect, the lemonade girl who will someday soon lay waste to men's hearts, Icabod the insane engineering acrobat climber of stacked and whirling stuff, Icabod's stage and life partner Tiegen, who has surely laid waste to several, if not hundreds of men's hearts (actually, ahole Paul did NOT introduce me to Tiegen, who greeted him with a two minute hug... hmmm...), and Floutist Jim, shaper of wood, who regaled us with tones and tales of making things that sing (also walking sticks, but they make way less music).
My two very favorite endeavors at the Ren Faire are to be close to any music (and there's lots of music) and to talk to anyone magical (there are even more magical people at these things than music... though it could be argued that people of such classification are themselves' music, to which i would nod emphatically).
I met a woman of wonder and intellect in welders goggles, who so simply and eloquently explained 'steampunk' to me that i'm still in awe.
"Steampunk, in it's simplest terms," She said with great poise, "explores what would have happened if electricity never replaced steam in the Victorian era." mind.blown.
Met Santa.. er.. Sews, i guess, who, with his wife, makes renaissance clothing from scratch and chases alms like a merchant prince with an unyielding gambling habit.
Met Dart Girl, fledgling Goddess, who layed hands on a passing dog which subsequently and unabashedly refused to leave. i think the owner actually had to drag the pooch away like a sack of potatoes. "I hear you dog. out loud." I think Paul may have had to drag me away, too.
Met Mallet Girl, of seasoned barker smack and golden eyes that held every answer, who's left arm was fully adorned with a magnificent line creation of her own design... and rendering.
"You did all that yourself?" I asked, incredulous, mimicking the act in virtual motion.
"Yup." Say's she, smiling. "My friend held the mirror while i did the ink."
"You are a force of nature." i stammered, mouth agape.
"I feel like that sometimes." She smiled so bright i'm still seeing a green blotch in my periphery.
...and many others, each with their own power, story, music, quiet nobility, struggle, and grace... and with each magical soul, a fist bump.
a very good day, indeed.
|
|
