This time last week I was knee deep in The Village Festival's frivolity and fantastic-ness....
The Village Festival is a travelling arts and cultural festival that is kid and dog friendly and sets up camp in Edinburgh Gardens every year (also goes to Falls Festival and other regional events.)
I did a 45 minute show (Banana Jolie- Gone Bananas) and was MC and Stage Manager for Friday night, then on Saturday I hosted So You Think You Can Interpretive Dance and was MC and stage manager for another 4 hrs. That lead to lots of stage time to fill, play, and riff on all sorts of things.
My final spot (10pm, Saturday) of killing time was haphazardly executed by taking the metaphorical knife that is improvised witticisms, banter and physical comedy, and slashing it- our cherished "I don't have time" "I need more time" "who even grows thyme" into tiny comical pieces for 20 minutes - and lead to me speaking about how things can get relatively intense in tents.
For all intents and purposes; my intention is to release any tension if tents, being intense. or in tents is not your thing. I would rather you forgive me, or forgave me (because it's past tense.)
Tents provide little fabric homes, venues and shelters to many people, all easily compacted down and squished into a bag that it never fits in again after it's brand new unless you are good at yelling, arguing or folding.
If anyone has ever slept in a tent when it's cold/ you have no mattress/ no mate/ thought that the bush stays as warm as the city; you will know the type of cold you feel; it's pretty intense, that cold in tents.
It's the type of cold that makes you start making lists of all the things you wished you did before you died. The type of cold that makes you curl up in a ball at the bottom of your sleeping bag and jog on your side. It's cold, it's intense in tents.
And you said to yourself "I mean, I didn't intentionally not pack enough warm blankets or clothes, I wish I packed more" (or wished, because it's past tense.)
And then, as dawn comes and starts to waft a bit of warmth into the air, you hear the birds chirp and you sigh thinking the nature is all worth it as you fall asleep.
5 hours later you gasp for air, it's sweltering and all the water is too warm, too far away for you anyway. You are trapped in your sleeping bag, which is sticking to you like a second skin and your matted hair blurs your vision. You don't know what is worse, the heat, the thirst, or the need to pee. You are in a nylon nightmate.
It's hot, it's intense, in your tent. You go for the zip to try let some air in and reach your head out gasping for air like an unqualified Baywatch lifeguard rescuing an awkwardly attractive dad.
Feeling tense, your tent heats up intensely, you neighbours, with good intentions going about their morning card game try to help you but you have to run to the composting toilet, still sweating and wearing a hilarious combination of clothing you donned to keep yourself warm. You are running to the composting toilet, sweating, dying, you run, you run; or you ran (because it's past tents.)
Is your jaw tense? Is that story intense? Are you reading this intently in tents?
**Side note, to me I am writing this in my kiwi accent that is in my head. So I recommend reading over it again with a kiwi accent in your head. Or any accent that you find the pronunciation of the word "tent" interesting.
That is one simple story of a candid canvas adventure. Summer is supposedly around the corner, and you might find yourself in a tent at some point. I my intention was to vent about being tense, intense, in tents. I hope you are feeling a bit more prepared for when you are in tents- maybe not the "Kathaman-do you like my fancy tent?" style camping trip, it might be at a festival, a convention, a wedding, and those events in tents can get intense. What is the difference between a tent and a marquee? I'm not sure, maybe like $3000 and a whole lot less pun making. Or maked- because it's past tense.
Jj
The Village Festival is a travelling arts and cultural festival that is kid and dog friendly and sets up camp in Edinburgh Gardens every year (also goes to Falls Festival and other regional events.)
I did a 45 minute show (Banana Jolie- Gone Bananas) and was MC and Stage Manager for Friday night, then on Saturday I hosted So You Think You Can Interpretive Dance and was MC and stage manager for another 4 hrs. That lead to lots of stage time to fill, play, and riff on all sorts of things.
My final spot (10pm, Saturday) of killing time was haphazardly executed by taking the metaphorical knife that is improvised witticisms, banter and physical comedy, and slashing it- our cherished "I don't have time" "I need more time" "who even grows thyme" into tiny comical pieces for 20 minutes - and lead to me speaking about how things can get relatively intense in tents.
For all intents and purposes; my intention is to release any tension if tents, being intense. or in tents is not your thing. I would rather you forgive me, or forgave me (because it's past tense.)
Tents provide little fabric homes, venues and shelters to many people, all easily compacted down and squished into a bag that it never fits in again after it's brand new unless you are good at yelling, arguing or folding.
If anyone has ever slept in a tent when it's cold/ you have no mattress/ no mate/ thought that the bush stays as warm as the city; you will know the type of cold you feel; it's pretty intense, that cold in tents.
It's the type of cold that makes you start making lists of all the things you wished you did before you died. The type of cold that makes you curl up in a ball at the bottom of your sleeping bag and jog on your side. It's cold, it's intense in tents.
And you said to yourself "I mean, I didn't intentionally not pack enough warm blankets or clothes, I wish I packed more" (or wished, because it's past tense.)
And then, as dawn comes and starts to waft a bit of warmth into the air, you hear the birds chirp and you sigh thinking the nature is all worth it as you fall asleep.
5 hours later you gasp for air, it's sweltering and all the water is too warm, too far away for you anyway. You are trapped in your sleeping bag, which is sticking to you like a second skin and your matted hair blurs your vision. You don't know what is worse, the heat, the thirst, or the need to pee. You are in a nylon nightmate.
It's hot, it's intense, in your tent. You go for the zip to try let some air in and reach your head out gasping for air like an unqualified Baywatch lifeguard rescuing an awkwardly attractive dad.
Feeling tense, your tent heats up intensely, you neighbours, with good intentions going about their morning card game try to help you but you have to run to the composting toilet, still sweating and wearing a hilarious combination of clothing you donned to keep yourself warm. You are running to the composting toilet, sweating, dying, you run, you run; or you ran (because it's past tents.)
Is your jaw tense? Is that story intense? Are you reading this intently in tents?
**Side note, to me I am writing this in my kiwi accent that is in my head. So I recommend reading over it again with a kiwi accent in your head. Or any accent that you find the pronunciation of the word "tent" interesting.
That is one simple story of a candid canvas adventure. Summer is supposedly around the corner, and you might find yourself in a tent at some point. I my intention was to vent about being tense, intense, in tents. I hope you are feeling a bit more prepared for when you are in tents- maybe not the "Kathaman-do you like my fancy tent?" style camping trip, it might be at a festival, a convention, a wedding, and those events in tents can get intense. What is the difference between a tent and a marquee? I'm not sure, maybe like $3000 and a whole lot less pun making. Or maked- because it's past tense.
Jj
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