Goddess Gala

Saturday we have a goddess gathering. The staff trailer/hang-out space, also known as the Stinkhouse, is transformed into an oasis of white sheets with rose petals sprinkled on top, candles, streamers, and men in loin-cloths giving massage. I'm lying about the loin-cloths, unfortunately. That idea was nixed by the "People and Culture" Department, since apparently we're supposed to respect people's boundaries while we're here. We even had to go to a whole meeting about it, more about that later. 

Anyway, we all pretended that the boys were in loin-cloths, and the massages were very sensual, and at some point someone brought in a vat of chocolate covered strawberries, and my masseuse Miguel fed one to me as he caressed my back and so things were all very good as far as that was concerned. 

"This is the most action I've gotten all summer," I told Miguel, just to egg him on. 

Then my new BFF Christine and I had a spectacular dance-off, and I only got myself entangled in a power cord once, and when it was time to watch a movie we made boisterous bunny and blade of grass shadow puppets in front of the screen until the goddess in charge yelled at us to can it, and after another fifteen minutes or so we got bored from the lack of attention upon us so we decided to rampage around campus. It was, we presumed, prime time for us to strike since the vast majority of women staff members were currently in the trailer, and the men must therefore be starving for company. 

Which is why ten minutes later found us literally jumping out of the shadowy bushes at two of our male friends as they drove by on a cart, yelling "Boys! Boys!" 

It was our rallying cry as we headed up the hill to the staff dining hall, where there were more boys indeed, and the nightly shenanigans and dance offs and singing and guitar playing could commence in their usual fashion. Our wiles were so strong we even lured a boy halfway down the hill with us before he remembered that his tent was actually in the other direction. So all in all it was a successful night, even if we weren't exactly good little goddesses. There are all sorts of ways to be a goddess, I am finding out. 

And my love, he has stolen away...

On Thursday I did the flying trapeze. Wooo! I started off with the greatest of ease- stepped right off the platform, swung my knees over the bar, let go, extended forward, grabbed the bar again, and did a somersault before letting go onto the netting, just like that! My mind didn't have a thing to do with it; my body took over and just followed commands. 

"What else are you amazing at that you have no idea about?" the man leading the session asked me as I slid down the fireman pole. 

But then, things went downhill. I sat amongst the group of staff members who were also in the class, and grew increasingly annoyed with the petty conversation, subtle competitiveness, flirting, etc., etc., etc., going on around me, while at the same time trying to plan how I was going to do "even better" next time around. 

And guess what happened!

My second try, I still did everything that was required, but a little more slowly, a little less well. That frustrated me, especially when I saw everyone else getting increasingly competent. And then, on my final try (when someone below decided to videorecord me) I was unable to do any of the moves at all. Typical! So there are a million lessons in there, but it is what it is and I was thrilled to have a chance to do it and recommend the flying trapeze to every daring young man or lady. Huzzah!

Full Moon Magic

Tuesday. Full moon ceremony. Poetry, dancing, and drumming. Ecstatic, a group of us form an impromptu secret society and head up to a cabin in the woods for more magic. A bottle of wine is procured, crayons and colored pencils and a guitar materialize, an altarpiece is laid out in the center of the room....

The ratios, for once, are out of balance in that there are more guys than girls and that may or may not have to do with the fact that I was instrumental in orchestrating the society ; )

We draw, we play, we sing, we tell stories...
Vagabond groups come and go, in and out of the woods...
I draw everyone's essences, I discover that mine is secretly being drawn by an enigmatic character in the corner... 

At around 3am we make our descent down a moonlit path, encountering friendly skunks, trying in vain to forget the recently related ghost stories...

The next day no one has slept much but we are all buzzing with glee, reminiscing on vivid memories and dreams. The secret society will meet again.