I Heard You Were a Wild One

Photos by me.

Recently, I've been learning to let go of expectations. Sometimes I throw fears and plans out the window. I'm learning to be adventurous and outgoing around new people.

Photos via LifeKamerAction.

Have you learned to let go?

Maybe you're searching for ways to change for the better right now. Maybe you could use a little adventure. Well, today I'm sharing a few stories about some recent escapades I enjoyed at North Coast Music Fest 2012... feel free to imagine your way into the scenes :)

Cigarette smoke hangs in the air – the swirl of some other smells enter in – fried food, beer, grass, sweat, the sourness of it. My feet move at their own pace: step, step, these steps are easy. Navigating a path through the crowd. The path makes itself.

Or maybe it’s the hula hoop at my shoulder that clears the way: people smiling looking over, wondering what that plastic toy is doing sitting under my arm. “Hoop it! Hula hoop!” He shouts it with a big grin, and I beam back. “Alright, I’ll hoop for ya,” I say, kicking off the sneakers, setting down my bag.

And when the little circle clears and there’s enough room to find the center, I let the hoop dance its way around me. Concentric circles, spiraling upward. Joy energy radiates. I have to share this, I think, feeling the flow of the song.

Suddenly, there is nothing else: only the music throbbing in the distance, my own body moving to the beat, and this little circle of new friends made out of strangers.

 

“What’s up?!”

Simple as that. Two words, a quick handshake, and we seem to know each other.

His friends are laughing, chugging their beers. Everybody’s high at this place (on life, on whatever).

“You want some body paint?”

I nod my head before I can even think about it. Of course, of course, I’m thinking, excited for the full experience of the fest. I imagine my body in vibrant colors. I want to be the canvas.

Everything here sparkles – glitter, the costumes, the lights on the stages.

He covers his hands in electric pink, adding a layer of paint over the yellow and orange already masking his hands. “Come here,” he says, reaching over.

The fingers squeeze my shoulders. Lustrous handprints. He traces little designs, cracking up at the sight of it.

Art is alive.

Yellow is next, at the forearms. I’m glowing. We are the art.

At this place, we are the art. 

He’s been painting graffiti for fifteen years. I try to imagine that life: running fast enough to dodge train cars, the sound of the paint cans rattling in the backpack, the thrill of being so high up you would die if you fell. That feeling of looking up at a finished wall, the swirl of colors like a relief.

My heart beats in my chest. The sound of it, like longing.

“Here, let me introduce you to the guys,” he says, his voice smoky and low.

Across the park, Big Boi lays down the poetry and I dance to the song without trying.

Every time I get on this microphone I like to spit…

He introduces them to me one by one, the names sounding like a song of their own. Paul and Caesar and Hernando. Jayson and Dreadyt. 

Hearing the names makes me think of all the people I've seen today. Tezzy, Jessie, Bonita, Alan, George, Mikey C, Noelle...

These people, new friends, artists. These guys lay down art in a way that’s effortless. 

Inking hit up after hit, this penmanship is so legit…

They seem to know life.

Drinking beer barefoot, wearing the bandanas around their necks, handing out the promo stickers. These are guys who have something to share.

I smile, my eyes fixed on the panels of graffiti: a shark, a woman’s face, a phrase in careful lettering (“Don’t do drugs; don’t be a fish”), a girl whose arms and chest are decorated in wild flames. She is a moving canvas; she is dancing in the middle of the tent; she radiates.

The camera guy follows her slow, graceful movements, capturing who she is.

My nose crinkles at the way the air is clouded with paint. I’m in love with the way the fans walk by and can’t help but stop to take pictures in front of this. They want a part of it.

Our hearts beat in our chests, same. My heart, same as these guys, longing for adventure.

Photo by  Max Herman of TimeOut Chicago.

Video via North Coast Music Festival.

Life changes in a moment's notice... and it matters how we choose to adapt. Go ahead and let go. Breathe. Experience the moment fully.

What are you waiting for?

The world is yours.