As promised, here is my recap of my Vancouver Folk Music Festival experience, version 2011.

This year I was on the postering committee instead of security, which I was on the three years previous. Both have their perks, but I think I prefer the postering committee, because all hours are put in beforehand, so I had every opportunity to spend my time soaking up the music. The unfortunate part was that (after a night spent in my car because I didn’t feel like driving home to Squamish only to drive back like 8 hours later – knowing myself well enough to anticipate I just wouldn’t bother going into Vancouver for 10am the next day to watch Dustin Bentall and Kendall Carson) music wasn’t the only thing I soaked up. My clothes, hair, and most uncomfortably, my socks and shoes also soaked up a lot of the rain that came down (cue the song from Winnie the Pooh) that Saturday.

I high tailed it pretty quickly once I reached my saturation point, but went back for more on Sunday. Thankfully, while it was still soggy, it was managable come Sunday.

I parked near the Naam, and hopped on a bus down to the festival. I didn’t realise it at the time, but my friend Alissa was on the bus and sent me a text message that she was spying on me. Oblivious to this, I got off the bus and started walking to the gate, and Alissa came up behind me and let me in on the same bus synchronicity.

Alissa later led me to Beats Antique, which is where she left me, and where I found something profound. I closed my eyes and gave myself over to the music – and found myself on some otherworldly plane.

I don’t much know how to describe it, other than to say there was a lot of white light, and a lightness of being that overtook me. I had no perception of anyone around me – I felt spacially both strangely free (meaning I couldn’t sense anyone being near me), and simultaneously buoyed or supported by what I can only describe as a universal energy. I felt one with life, like I finally internalized that which I’ve come to know, in that we are all connected and made of the same matter and energy.

I’m happy to report that I’ve been able to replicate this same feeling a few times since over the summer at other music festivals, though none were quite as intense as this initial experience, nor as lengthy.

And that is where I shall leave this for now, in the interest of actually publishing something to this blog more than once in a blue moon (I’ve been without an internet connection at home for some 2 weeks now, and won’t have it until Wednesday, thanks to Telus’ eternally aggrivating practices and incompetences), since I’ve been working on this post since early September. In Part 2 we shall explore the world of C.R. Avery, and the inspired lines resulting from his performance.