Wanderings

Some pictures just arose from the infamous Spiegeltent, a dance venue at Bard College where we Omegans would let ourselves loose every Friday and Saturday night. Within ten minutes of arriving we would be barefoot, disheveled, and dripping with sweat, stomping on the floor to keep the beat with Michael Jackson hits while enacting every obscure dance move known to man. 

The other Spiegel patrons were initially in awe/fear of us, and had a tendency to vacate the floor and stand in a semi-circle, jaws gaping, while we twirled in a blur of feathers, glitter, and dreadlocks around the center. But eventually many of them came around, especially the ones who had partaken liberally of the sangria, and by midnight it would be a warm, sweaty, squishy, chaotic mess. 

I say "squishy" in special reference to the one man who seemed to both eat and drink amply, and would just sort of stand in the middle of the wooden floor in a contented way and let himself be jostled by the passerby and dancers. When an exuberantly flailed arm or protruded backside connected with something soft and padded, you always knew just who was behind you; I would usually look over my shoulder, give a civil smile, and move to a new location. 

                

      

I had a tendency to go to Spiegel on nights when I had to work starting in the wee hours of the next morning, and the juxtapositional videos and stories of those experiences are entertainment for the future. For now, I leave you with these photos, and hope that you, dear reader, may someday find your own little slice of Spiegel in the world.