All Things Go

This past weekend I had the privilege of experiencing a familiar part of our country in quite a new way; I found myself across the river from Washington DC in Maryland. What had originally looked like it would be a sunny, music-filled weekend soon proved to be shrouded in fog and mist. To some, this may have come as an unfortunate surprise, but I for one tend to take things in stride, so while the beauty of a sunny day was missed the beauty that the rain provided was unforgettable.

There is something so distinct about the landscape of the northeastern United States; not only are the cities older but the land surrounding them seems to feel older. The humid air mingling with the luscious greenery reminds me of my childhood.

Walking through the mist and moss I was transported back to running through my grandparents backyard; exploring the acres of Pennsylvania wilderness that surrounded their home; running along the hydrangea bushes, feeling the dewdrops collect along my arm and drip down my fingers. I think back to the sensation of the ferns brushing my calves as I lept at the luminescence emitting from the rear end of lightning bugs; the ticklish feeling of their little legs and wings one side grasp them in my hands; the loving expression happiness in my heart when I looked at the jar that I had collected; the excitement that overwhelmed me when I opened the jar and let them fly at the end of my evening of collecting.

When we first entered the festival all I could think about was how much I missed being back in Pennsylvania, but my thoughts were quickly diverted when heard the notes of a song that I loved. So my friends and I ran to find our favorite band, Hippocampus.

Looking at the theme of my writings, one can see that I clearly connect emotion to noise/sound, as well as the environment around me. My best memories of church come from my childhood and all stem from singing while being surrounded by people that I love. Being at All Things Go seemed to tick almost all the same boxes that those memories do. Therefore, being at the festival felt almost like worship.

Taking this class has reminded me to pause even in moments of great joy to look at the environment around me oh, and I'm so lucky that I did on this day. In the midst of one of my favorite songs I decided to take a chance and kill my eyes away from the performers on stage to look at the people surrounding me. swiveling my body away from the band I was met with a view that simply took my breath away. The crowd of people behind me seemed to seamlessly blend into the trees, the people becoming a part of the landscape.

Crowds and forests are a lot alike if you think about it; when you look out over a forest or a crowd you are first struck by the vastness and homogeneity of it all, either a sea of heads or a sea of green moving and undulating; as you begin to look closer you quickly dispel the belief that each of the plants or people are the same, each one has something unique about it. Some stand tall with a long trunk holding up thick limbs. Some find their place on the ground, spreading out and onto those next to them making it hard to tell where one individual ends and the next begins. Some drift side to side with the beat and the wind. Some cluster close while others find their joy in space.

Looking up the hill behind me, the crowd around me, and the trees above us I felt so incredibly lucky to be right where I was.