Monday, July 26, 2010

wearing onions on our belts and yelling at clouds: monologuing about the Calgary Folk Fest 2010

Having returned home completely knackered, and having since scrubbed the caked sunblock, the embedded dust and any vestiges of patchouli stink off my body, I am gradually and ever so reluctantly returning to the real world. The world where one does not normally write up contracts for musicians, the world where a festival chair is not a proper piece of furniture, the world where nobody is feeding me two incredible meals a day and all I have to do is hold out my plate. Lord I miss those salads.

All I have left is a mitt-full of CDs and some rapidly fading memories of a sweet weekend on the island. So please indulge me while I blather a bit over the next couple of days about the last few days at the Calgary Folk Festival. Since I couldn't convince you to drop everything and join me on Prince's Island Park, I am just going to have to get you into a corner instead and tell you all about it. I need to preserve my memories in this digital amber and you are the closest victim.

Beware, there is no 800 word limit around here.

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