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Sunrise over Oregon Eclipse Festival

October 5, 2017By Focal NomadBLOG, COVERAGE, SUNRISE SERIES

Photos taken and words written in August 2017. Oregon Eclipse Festival, OR.

The music whistled above the soft bass as I watched the flies bounce above the lake perfectly in synch. The ducks had just taken their morning bath are now diving back in. I’m looking around me and all I can think about is how I wish I had risked my camera to the dust a lot sooner.

“Don’t loose your sense of wonder,” a voice said to me, here, a few nights ago.

Deep breath, try,
Writing something, by
Breath, lie about
Your job, your relationship
Status, your income…
I found myself
Puffing myself out like
A duck this weekend.
Who was I trying to
Impress, anyways?

There’s a lot of work to be done. If there’s anything this place has taught me: the craftsmanship, the music, the acting, the dedication to performance, to parenting, to yours and mines LSD trips… It took all of us to create this experience. It dawned on me here at dawn, that all I ever wanted is in the friends I tackle to the ground when I see them. The synchronicities and full circles shared from strangers turned friends. Festival magic is us.

I want to wake up to myself, get to my practice am grateful that I wasn’t distracted. It gets cold at night – but then the sun comes I’m grateful for my choices to stay awake. To say no to beautiful bodies that could risk my seeing a sunrise. The beautiful choice to spend all night in a tea lounge – learning about the subtleties of the varied leaves and the ritual of its steeping. Making “just-friends” with every addition to come to our table even when the candles were blown out. The choice to go back to a spot that I said I would and expand. The choice to be okay with the unknown ahead.

The choice to say fuck you to management and my job so they never kidnap me full time. The choice to be here, to not burn, to not know why I had to, and then the sky going dark and just knowing I had to – and why hasn’t my camera been out longer? What have I been resisting all this time?

She calls to me – Art
And I am hers, I choose these
Sunrises over any impassioned love
For this Earth is my home.
It’s only for that I should
take some time out of my
mornings to honor her majesty,
Her forgiveness
And her magic.

Sunrise from my Roof

July 8, 2017By Focal NomadBLOG, Posts, SUNRISE SERIES

Photos taken and words written in April 2017. Los Angeles, CA.

Is this really where it starts? Readiness is a choice. If we are our actions, I have to surrender to having lost control. If I am my actions, I am scared and looking for reasons not to recover. I am looking for every reason not to write, right now. We all want to believe that there is nothing wrong with us, and on a base, conceptual level that’s true. When faced with the things in our lives we wish were different, there’s really nowhere else to look but at ourselves. This morning, this is what I am faced with – standing on the edge of my roof looking for the sun that’s hiding behind the LA smog. I can be eco-conscious but I can’t single-handedly make the entire city’s smog go away. So I surrender. It’s amazing what will reveal itself, what will become clear, when you simply slow down, stop running, and let your eyes adjust.

In doing so, I have found the first half of my life to be covered with haze. I was made to believe that my childhood was fine. My brain only remembers the big gifts, my father and I making silly faces and my mother driving me everywhere. I had to stay busy. I had to stay on stage. I had to be going from dance classes, to singing classes to rehearsal and I remember, when a show would end I would feel this incredible ache. I would feel what I now realize to be grief. There I would be, a kid or a teenager, having to look at myself during the in-betweenness as I auditioned furiously to get myself back outside of myself. There was comfort in hopping out of my body and into anothers’. There was what felt like love when I would get on stage and I would hear that applause – and with that, they noticed me. I was accepted and special.

It’s amazing how a pattern started in childhood can continue and be transferred into our relationships in adulthood. Eyes focused, I now see how relationship after relationship has bonded around this pattern of seeking dramatic distractions outside myself to escape the question of myself. A lot has changed in the less-hazy last half of my life and at the same time, not much has. I left acting all together; I discovered myself to be a leader in booking punk shows, I co-founded a non-profit and moved behind the camera pursuing my passions of photography, writing and documentary filmmaking more aggressively. My needs now involved having friends, love, a successful career and to give meaning to my life. Leaving acting was a conscious decision to leave a behind a legacy and take control of my life and not allow my fate to be sealed by directors who were constantly thrusting me into victim roles.

Although the form of my relationships have morphed and changed, the patterns remained the same. Love became my stage – the theatrics of unhealthy attachments became my new distraction that prevented me from ever really attaining the needs in my life that had finally crystallized. An endless slew of unhealthy partners were planted on my path and I ran away from feeling emotions for anyone that was actually available to me. Who was I? I gave more of myself than I was ready to my first love who set the precedent of betrayal and abuse that after I became accustomed to in varying forms. The people changed, even the types of relationships changed. The pain inside vicious cycles of avoidance persisted. I was getting attention masked as love. I was getting false promises masked as truth. I was getting a lesson masked as what I thought could be forever. I got smarter seeing the red flags yelling at me to STOP but I kept running. I violated myself. I broke my own heart.

Sometimes it takes learning the same lesson over and over again before the sound of its teachings can’t be unheard no matter how far we run. Today I get my stuff back from the last lesson I’ll ever have to deal with, because readiness is a choice. It starts by saying goodbye, it starts by ending one thing to realize a new beginning. It starts by stopping. All I can do is surrender. All I can do is admit that I am powerless and remember that I am not alone.

Love Comes in the Derpiest Dogs

July 1, 2017By Focal NomadBLOG, COVERAGE

Since our friendship began last fall, my friend Tyler has been raging about Corgi Beach Day. “They’re just so derpy!” Tyler would say of the awkwardly adorable pups. Makes sense this made him so excited, since Tyler’s niche in photography is capturing derp faces at cosplay conventions. I’ll admit I’m more of a cat-person, but the idea of a bunch of stubby-legged, fox-like seemingly smiling dogs, like, hundreds of them, prancing along a Californian shore, was kind of an irresistible notion for me.

If you’ve been paying any attention to the content of my blog, you’d gather that I was going through a bit of a rough patch – an understatement. So Corgi Beach Day at Huntington Beach couldn’t have come at a better time.

We drove down at 8am, which to me was an incredible feat for a Saturday morning. How many people could there possibly be at this hour? Turns out, quite a few; over 1,000 Corgis alone attended, not to mention their owners and friends. We whipped out our cameras and set to capture these pooches as they engaged in water play, posing in doggy photo booths, and meeting their famous TV counterparts. Not to mention, the contests: costume contests (both tiki-themed and anything goes), a bacon-flavored-bubble eating contest, a limbo contest and a talent show.

The owners of these dogs were so dedicated to their attire and training that it almost seemed cultish. But – the kind of cult where, if I were to have a dog, I’d definitely want to join. Furthermore, these dogs just seemed fucking HAPPY. I envied them: sitting there in their cool goggle-shades, every human fawning on them like royalty, many of them with way more instagram followers than me, and just rolling with it.

Trying to understand happiness these days and where it comes from, I set out to understand these pups by asking the folks who would know best, their owners, what they thought their best friends were thinking in the Corgi Beach Day experience, and here’s what they said:

Winston the White Corgi (4 yrs)

“He’s probably thinking that everybody’s here to see him play fetch. Oh he loves an audience. He does – oh yeah. So even when we walk around on the street, like any other day, he just kinds of looks up at people thinking, oh they’re gonna come talk to me. He’s used to all the attention and he’s usually a good sport. He’s a big ham. We call him our little diva, he just loves an audience, so anytime anyone comes over he needs to find a ball to show off his fetching skills. So he probably thinks all of these people are here to throw his ball. I think he also thinks he’s probably the best one. He has a healthy amount of confidence. Winston was born in Ariozona, we found him through a breeder, it just so happened they had one male available, so that’s how we got him. But we didn’t get him knowing he was going to be white. He turned white. We thought he was going to be the red and white color that a lot of the corgis are and then over time he grew lighter and lighter and then people just started calling him ‘white corgi’ and it just stuck.”

Tina from New York City
IG: @winstonthewhitecorgi FB: Winston the White Corgi

Goji the Corgi (3 months)

“He’s just excited for the attention. He’s loving it. He’s loving it. He’s having the best time of his life. Then he’s gonna sleep really well in a couple of hours. This is his second time [to the beach]. He loves to play with dogs. That’s his thing he loves it. He’s got freckles and one blue eye.”
Ani from Hermosa Beach
IG: @gojithecorgi

Zooey the Corgi (4 yrs)

Savanna: He got her from the Hudson River Mall. She’s ecstatic right now I think. She loves all the attention. Everybody just comments on her, wants to see her. She carries a toy in her mouth all seconds of the day, she has to have her toys all the time. Her little piggy toy [is her favorite.]

Chuckie: She’s been going to the Corgi Beach day for three years now. She didn’t go to the parade. [Sherry] made the costume and then [Savanna] made the shirts.

Sherry: She’s spoiled-rotten and has over 115 stuffed animals.

Chuckie: She sleeps on the bed with us, and we built stairs for her to go up and then she just learned how to go up the stairs backwards and we put it up on her instagram.

Savanna, Chuckie and Sherry from Redlands
IG: @zooeythecorgi

Cona and River

“They are friends. We had Cona first and her other friend passed away. And actually we didn’t know if she would be able to get along with somebody because she’s very much an alpha female but they’ve assimilated very well. He has a very passive personality and so he defers to her. So she’s really accepted him and that was more than we could ask for. This is their first [Corgi Beach Day.] They’re thinking please do not leave us here. I think [they’re a little shy.] They’re like, this is fine, as long as we can keep you in eye contact at all times. We get a lot of attention. She’ll roll over, and he, because I think he’s still getting used to people, he’s a little bit more resistant. Her [signature move] is to roll over for a belly rub and his is when I go out and try to water the plants, he flies through the air and he tries to bite the water. I think that he was interested in [the ocean.]”
Lisa and Gary from Boulder City, NV

Waffles (3 yrs) and Biscuit (5 yrs)

“We flew them here and this is their first Corgi Beach Day and we are very excited to be here. They came from Virginia, we got Biscuit with an AKC breeder, and Biscuits sister is Waffles’ mother and the niece. So they’re sort of related. They come here to California quite frequently, that’s where we’re originally from, so they come here, but less than ten times at the beach, so this is just a different world to them I think and they’re just overwhelmed. I think they’re loving the attention, like I’ve never seen them smile so hard and so long. They do pose with a couple of other Corgi’s out in Virginia out in the DC area all the time. We do have a Corgi meetup for Washington DC called the March of Corgis. So we do that, they’re one of the five Corgis I found in that group there. Waffles is the drama queen she likes to start trouble with everybody. She likes to really show her dominance. She’s Miss sassy. She likes the attention to be for her. Biscuit is very, very passive, she’s just more, ‘I’m here,’ you know. Biscuit can do a ‘sit-pretty’ and she can also roll over. We learned that when she was a puppy by herself. It took maybe a week or so. Waffles loves food more than anything. You show her food she’ll do anything for you, pretty much. [Her favorite thing to do is] beg. My husband and I are both foodies and I’m a chef. So naturally, it was just the names and we love brunch, so… These [goggles] are Doggles; you can find them on Amazon. They’re UV-protective so it protects their eyes. Especially being out here in the sun.”
Mahm from Washington D.C.
IG: @biscuitandwafflesthecorgis

To see the entire album of insanely adorable photos from Corgi Beach Day go here!

Sunrise at Bridgewater

May 17, 2017By Focal NomadBLOG, SUNRISE SERIES

Photos taken and words written in April 2017. Killington, VT.

Attempting to write this on the train before I pass out.

Wish I didn’t feel the need to pass out at all. The colors of the sky right now are golden – or maybe that’s just window tint. My route is running along the Long Trail River coming from Rutland, Vermont and then a straight shot to Penn Station. Not having a Monday morning ride back to catch my flight turned out to be a blessing. The views down are breath-taking. I wish I could have stayed longer, but I know I’ll be back.

There’s a lot I’ve missed because I’ve been too exhausted from pain to stay awake for the good, or the medium, or the mundane. The mundane is worth keeping our eyes open for too. Though in those moments, when it’s not so high or so low, I just want to sleep. The energy it takes to hold all of these emotions, to face all of this darkness is more than I really have right now. Any downtime, to prevent from ruminating on the darkness, I check out. I check out to survive. I go to sleep at 8 or 9pm so I don’t hurt myself anymore. Something about waking up at dawn gives me a better sense of hope. The day is still coming. There’s still a chance to turn things around and make it a great day.

I’m raw. I’m like a snake poking its head out of its new skin and everything hurts right now. The sun is too hot, the water is too cold, the air is too brisk and my eyes are pink. Pink from opening them for the first time and seeing things as the really are. In their purest state, I see who I am. In this moment, I’m trying to keep my promise to myself to write at sunrise. I shot just before the sun crested over the mountains, but just after it crested over the horizon. My timing was off, but beauty was still created. Finding the magic in the moments that aren’t quite indigo and aren’t yet golden. The reflection of the rays on the cabin. The fire that was down to smoke and soft embers. The teepee that once held ashes from other exes letters.

Before I left the cabin, I sat and observed the candle that was still lit from the night before. Its flame was still burning strong. It burned though 60 bodies were moving around it. It burned inside a wooden cabin and the flame remained contained. This fire could have consumed the entire structure it flickered in, but it stayed controlled on its wick. Despite the times it could have been carelessly knocked over by eyes that couldn’t see their own legs, despite the blankets and pillows rustled nearby, despite the flowing robes waving around it, it remained on its wick. This little light had the power to destroy everything around it. It had ample opportunity, but it just shined.

This little light just shined.

There’s comfort in knowing, that not everything that can destroy you, will. I don’t need to be consumed by my thoughts or my emotions. I was blow-torched with lies and betrayal. The burns are fresh. They’re so fresh they feel sticky and wet. New skin is growing and some has all ready grown. My light was consumed by his destruction. But its not out, it’s just a tiny amber. I just need some air, some deep breaths, to bring it to a full flame again. Starting by writing, by meditation. By doing things that I don’t actually want to do but know will help heal me faster than just sleeping through everything waiting for new skin to grow.

I don’t actually like waking up for sunrise and shooting in 40 degree weather. None of this feels good or is fun. But it’s work. It’s working with the faith that one day because of all of this work, I won’t need to suffer anymore. I won’t need to be torchered anymore. One day I will look at this time of deep reflection, of waking up early, of reading the books and talking to my mentors and friends and making this growth a priority, of being alone for a while so I can get to know myself and learn to deal with the inner turmoil that I had been running away from and feel nothing but gratitude.
Hope is on my wick. The more I breathe, and choose to keep breathing, the brighter it will become.

Palm Sunday

April 9, 2017By Focal NomadBLOG, Posts

Last night, around 9pm I told someone I was leaving my devices at home and going out for a few hours. I liked the way it sounded. I wanted to do that. But the truth is, I was so emotionally drained that all I could do was text a few people, wait for them to text me back, force myself to not log on to Facebook, and when it became clear that my friend wasn’t going to come over for tea after all, fall quickly asleep in my clothes and on top of a mattress pad.

Truth is I haven’t put sheets on my bed in the near-week since I’ve been back. Nothing is unpacked. I forced myself to edit a set of photos and I forced myself to get to some gatherings of people who seemed like they could relate.
This morning I did the same. It was easy to get up on time because I fell asleep so early. Getting myself there was harder. If I go to this thing, it means I admit to defeat. I admit that I have been defeated by myself. I go and I sheepishly raise my hand to share last nights failures, but I am never called on. Well – actually I was called on, but someone else hijacked my turn because they didn’t know the process yet. But I was there at 8:30am in a meditation center surrounded by other Angelenos choosing to not sleep off booze from the night before and instead choosing to get honest with themselves and how they’ve been living their realities.

This space is heavy. It’s uncomfortable and maddening. But is it more maddening than what brought me there? Maybe it’s just the withdrawal. It’s hard to identify with other people when I hate labels, and I’m always on the lookout for others projecting their issues onto mine. So how do I discern the difference between empathy and projecting? The only way to know is dive deeper to gain clarity of who I am myself. To ask questions I’m afraid of answering because I can’t help but think, for fuck’s sake haven’t I done enough? When do I get to just be happy? I’m happy when I’m alone – but there’s no risk involved there. I’m happy when I’m reassured and loved and have consistency. I haven’t had that in a while and the result is this post. So who’s the culprit anyways? The fault lies in both parties and all I can do is my part to heal from it and heal myself to not make the same unhealthy choices.

Part of me wonders if maybe I’m just searching for ANY answer and ANY concrete path because I’m sick of living in the unknown in a place in the country where I never really felt like I fit in, around people who I’ve constantly had to adjust my communication styles for. With friends who seem to be more absent lately… Maybe this post is me reaching out. It is. It is.

After the meeting I went to church. I never have Sunday mornings off anymore and there was a time when going to the Hollywood United Methodist Church (HUMC) was a place for deep reflection and healing for me. Even though I don’t really believe in God or Jesus in the way that most Christians do. What I do believe that this church preaches, is that God is love, and that that love is given to everyone on earth. Their commitment is shown in the marriage equality banner that was flagged on their exterior walls for years and how in every sermon, radical involvement in making our world a better place through action and not just talking about it, is encouraged.

I completely forgot that today was Palm Sunday. I used to love singing “Hosanna” waving palms around in church and in the two productions of Jesus Christ Superstar that I did growing up. This was not that kind of service. Reverend Cathy reminded us that while it’s natural to just want to skip to the Easter part of the story, there can’t be rebirth, with out death first. This seemed oddly fitting for today, and the Tower tarot card which has been looming in my readings for weeks now came to mind. The image of the Tower is typically lightning striking down a tall structure. The foundations are falling apart and change is coming whether or not you want it to. The card tends to look pretty scary – always at night – and no one likes getting it in a reading. The tower for me has almost always coincided with a breakup.

What I hate about this is, when will I ever get to just find peace? It’s gotten to the point that whenever I feel love, I’m waiting for the moment when it’s going to fall apart. I’ve done Vipassana, sound healing, reiki, therapy, I’ve read countless self-help books and I’ve gotten to know myself quite well and am aware of my patterns even when they’re happening now. So I wonder, when is all the work I’ve done going to be enough where things can be stable to the point that no one can knock me off of my mountain? How is it that even with everything that I’ve done, I am still so affected by this kind of loss?

After the lesson, there was a live performance of the story of how Jesus was crucified. I wasn’t expecting this. The lights were dim, the music was morbid, and every second I wanted to run out of the church. I had memories of performing in that musical at the age of 12 and 14 of being backstage while our actor playing Jesus was being crucified on the cross and dissonant tones were being sung by the adult ensemble spectators. The younger ensemble were watching the crew literally holding up the platform that was the roof above our heads that was also the ground upon which the cross was on top of. Literally, the stage was collapsing above our heads and since “the show must go on” we all stayed there, risking our young lives, as the backstage crew used all of their force to hold up the ceiling.

We ended up fine and at that age I held that mantra that the show must go on, on a pedestal. To the point where I continued in performances with sprained ankles, bronchitis, skipping school to perform daytime school performances and even once, got hit in the head with a magic lamp and to this day, I still have the scar just above my right eye lid to prove the tale. It’s interesting to me now how this mirrors my personal life. I was a slow test taker and even as bullies were throwing wads of paper and spit balls at my head and pencil, I continued to take the test. Even when things were rough at home and I tried to run away, I came back anyways and told my parents I loved them. Even when a girl at school told me she didn’t see me as a friend, I told her that I would consider her one anyways. I became a master at charging through pain, not ignoring it, but accepting it and moving ahead anyways. Part of me wonders if because of this, pain has become normalized in my every day life. I’ve been complimented on how strong I am, the playa name that was given to me was “Charge,” which I fully identify with, and that I’m a warrior. Have I rested too much on this? Truthfully I’m tired of having to charge through anything and can’t help but wonder, why do things always have to be so hard?

After the performance I felt extremely heavy and was looking forward to seeing who had text me during the service, even though I all ready knew it wasn’t who I was hoping it would be. We all left in silence, and went out to the brand new backyard that was installed. HUMC is a gorgeous church with a lot of Hollywood history. You’ve seen its gym in Back to the Future, its exterior and interior in Sister Act, and there are frequent tours of the space. The new yard in the back was possible because an old building behind it had been torn down. It was fitting for this Palm Sunday’s lesson. The yard had a small path, there were kid-sized picnic tables surrounding the grassy area, there were flower gardens lining the picnic area and everything was set up for an unexpected Easter egg hunt.

From a dimly-lit, moody sermon, suddenly we were met with eggs and East bunny footprints scattered about, over-the-top cheerful Chipmunks Easter music and kids running around with their Easter gift baskets blowing bubbles and eating muffins. I felt whip-lashed. I had just experienced an entire morning of intense self-reflection and had gone straight into a child’s play-time where seemingly happy adults watched after them and joined each other in fellowship. Even though I had been coming to this church on and off for six years, I felt like a fish out of water. I knew I should stay and attempt to talk to someone, to not give into my melancholy completely but had no idea where to start. The cheerfulness caused me to feel nauseated and I looked at these happy parents and families and a rare feeling of jadedness came over me. Why couldn’t I just be “normal” like these people? Then I remembered what a girl said at my meeting that morning about how comparing herself to others caused her a lot of pain and I stopped myself in those thoughts.
I then realized how much I missed the innocence of my childhood. As adults, we are in a room having a serious experience witnessing Christ’s death, and as children, they are sheltered away from this realness, and instead given candy, and crayons and coloring books.
“Lighten up, Amanda. Have a goddamn off-brand Oreo and get yourself some coffee. You’re safe here. Everything is fine.”
So I did just that and looked around the yard for women my age, maybe a little alternative looking, and awkwardly made eye contact with a woman a few times before finally introducing myself.
We talked for a bit, and I took her photo with the Easter bunny and volunteered to take others’ photos. She plays the harp and that to me was very cool. It was nice to talk to someone and have her introduce me to a few other church members and I was invited to a Taco Tuesday talk on spirituality and I felt grateful to be included. At the same time, I felt completely disconnected. I knew I was just looking for community and friendship from wherever I could find it. At the same time, I’ve been disappointed that the burner community I’ve been so proud to be apart of, has been completely MIA in my outreach to them. I decided to take a selfie with the Easter bunny, and sent it to my ex as a joke against my better judgement to reach out at all and went home knowing I was going to write about this without being 100% sure as to where it would go.

So this is where I’m at. It appears that there is a lot more work to be done. Frankly, I’m scared shitless and exhausted. There is also a lot of work to be done in my career. I’m production coordinating a pilot in less than a week and the to-do list is mounting taller and taller by the hour. I’m catching up on photo editing and documentary obligations. And yet… I still haven’t even unpacked or made my bed. I accomplish tasks like a robot and as soon as they’re done, wrestle with my self-doubt and confusion about my life’s current life path. Maybe I need another summer in NYC. Maybe that won’t make a difference and I need to just stay and face my fears. Maybe I just need new friends who can be present and I need to fall for partners who’s issues don’t exacerbate my issues.

I don’t have any concrete answers right now. And since I hate the unknown, maybe that’s the first lesson. Being okay with not having any answers, to anything.

Your Comprehensive Desert Hearts Packing List!

March 30, 2017By Focal NomadBLOG, COVERAGE

It was around 2am at Symbiosis, I was not sober and it was time to make a pee break. As usual for a festival by this time, the portos had run out of toilet paper. That didn’t matter to me, because I was a prepared festie! I always carry on my trusty utility belt a small packet of tissues and hand sanitizer for this very reason. I came out and someone spotted my tissues and asked for one. So I gave it to them, then next thing I knew everyone was coming up to me one-by-one to take from my tissue packet, and as I handed out my very last one I shouted “FESTIVAL 101 GUYS! Always carry tissues and hand sanitizer!” So with Desert Hearts coming up, I felt it necessary to give you guys my comprehensive packing list can really apply to any festival for seasons to come.

Tent Times

First thing you want to think about when heading to a campout festival is where you’re going to decompress and change costumes! And maybe sleep. Maybe.
For this you’ll need the following:

Tent: Honestly any 4-person tent will do if it’s just you. That’s enough space to house all of your stuff and sleep. If you’re going with a partner you’ll just have to cuddle extra close. A wool blanket is great to cover the bottom of the tent to keep heat in, and any extra blankets on top of both sleeping bags always help when you want to bring one outside.
Tarp: You’ll need one for the ground and an extra for on top in case it rains. Having an additional shade structure over the top of your tent is definitely a plus especially if the festival doesn’t have much tree coverage. This will help you sleep in longer when the rays from the sun poke through.
Sleep Aids: Ear plugs, face mask and melatonin. I like to get the emergency packets that have melatonin in them – get your electrolytes and a healthy sleep inducer.
Bed: Two, preferably, one for the bottom layer and one for the top. At least one pillow, an air mattress, foam topper, or I use a self-inflating camping pad; not as cozy as an air mattress, but way easier to set up and no need to worry about it deflating.
Lighting/Decor: Solar-powered lights to decorate your tent with, so you can find your way in the dark back to your tent. Lantern for the inside so you can see what you’re changing into when it gets cold and dark. Decorations for your tent such as fake flowers or a tapestry to make finding your tent for yourself and your friends easier.
Toiletries: You’ll want to bring what you would have at home with you such as toothbrush/toothpaste, lotion, face wash, makeup remover and sunscreen. To lighten the load and streamline your bathing, I suggest dry shampoo, Dr. Bronners (will be the only soap you need if you make this investment), baby wipes (ESSENTIAL – it’s very likely you won’t be able to shower more than once during the weekend) and a microfiber towel (dries super quick).

On Your Belt, Utility Belt that Is

A belt is the most common thing that first-time festies don’t really think about – like what would we need to carry around with us all the time? Well, it’s more of a thing where, having some of these essential items on you at all times will make your experience much, much easier and therefore more enjoyable. Let’s go over different belt options first:

Army/Navy: Probably the cheapest option, and what’s nice is they are customizable! Not exactly the most fashionable, but what you want is durability and usability. You’ll end up getting a canvas belt as your base and then you’ll have any number of pockets to choose from. Small ones perfect for your iPhone, larger ones perfect for moleskin, and even one that fits a 2L canteen! I have a silver cup that actually fits around the canteen so I don’t need an extra cup for when I find myself offered a drink.
Etsy: There are countless utility belts available on etsy. Canvas, leather, teal, earth tones… I like the belts with snaps as opposed to zippers because they’re less likely to break on you. Also canvas isn’t as affected by the sun as leather is so it’s less likely to burn you when it gets hot out.
Podbelt: For those with a little more cash to burn, I highly recommend the Podbelt. It’s fully felxible for your needs and each item is durable and will last you for years of festing to come. Designed specifically with the most dedicated of burners in mind this belt offers retractable lighter holders, canteen holders and varying sizes of pouches – and all on sexy black leather material.
For the little pockets: Butt container – that’s right MOOP (matter out of place) means cigarette butts too! An empty mint container or even an old pill bottle works great for this. Chapstick – preferably one with SPF 20 or higher and eye drops!
For the Portos: As suggested by the beginning of this article, a little packet of tissues and hand sanitizer! Your ass will thank you.
Phone: Although you may not have cell reception, having your phone on you is great for the other things you can do with it, like capturing memories and writing down quick notes and exchanging contact info. If you’re not the photo taking type, I recommend a small moleskin and pen. I actually prefer this because then I have a little diary of everyone I’ve met from that event by the end of it.
Little Gifts: The purpose of gifting at a festival is really to bring about the spirit of contribution. If we all bring more than what we need for ourselves, there will always be a bounty. What’s really nice about this is that after you meet someone you get to seal that connection with a token of esteem that they can take home with them, in addition to the wonderful memory. This can really be anything, so long as it isn’t very “moopy.” I like to give away an essential oil blend I made a big batch of, or flourite. My first burn I put a drop of lavender essential oil on epsom salts and wrapped it up into a bunch of little pouches which I gave to people to soak their feet with at the end of the week. I’ve received countless theme camp necklaces, friendship bracelets, kandi, crystals, granola bars and probably my favorite gift was from this girl Erin whom I met Tuesday night of my first burn. I couldn’t find my pack of American Spirits for the life of me and she decided that her gift would be to bring extra everything, in case someone forgot something. So, she had an extra full pack of cigs to give me!
Cup on a Carabiner: Why? Desert Hearts has a few camps from Burning Man that pop up at the back of the dance floor with open bars serving up booze, tea and other things. But you’ve gotta bring your own cup to partake so as to reduce moop. Most transformational festivals have an environment like this where there might be a bag of wine being passed around, or someone invites you into their camp for some champagne… So be prepared and bring your own cup, and it’s easier if it’s just hanging off your belt!
Water Container: Something to carry at least 2L of water in! You’ll go through it fast and water is the will prevent a visit to the medic tent. It’s easy to forget to hydrate so make sure it’s accessible on a 2L canteen on your belt or get a hydration pack. To amp up the hydration add Emergency to your water. This will add electrolytes and prevent you from getting sick in an environment where it’s really easy to spread germs.
Other Essentials: Sunglasses, headlamp, bandana!

Camping Extras

Camping Stove: I used this one at the burn and I LOVED IT. It uses denatured alcohol which is much cleaner than alternative fuels.
Kitchenware: Reusable plate, fork, knife
Washing: Kitchen towels and a washing basin
Waste Management: Trash/recycling bags, bucket for grey water: because pack it in, pack it out, bitches!
Cash Money: ATMs are harder to find and the fees are HEFTY. Think about how much you’ll need for 3 days of food, gifts and other things for extra-curricular activities.

Recommended Eats/Drinks

Basically anything that is vacuum-packed or dried is your best friend because the less you have to worry about getting ice everyday, the more fun you’re bound to have. There are plenty of delicious food vendors at Desert Hearts, but if you want to save some money and snack in between, or even perhaps after some vendors are closed. So here’s what I recommend:

Vacuum-packed meals, jerky, rice cakes, seaweed snacks
Hard-boiled eggs (these lasted me 4 days at Burning Man and I only had to buy ice once), cuties, cliff bars, hummus & carrots
Bread, PB&J: basically, if you’re a filmmaker, think of anything that you like to see at the crafty table
Oreos, gummy bears, dried fruit
Instant iced coffee. Hack: Get those instant iced coffee packets from starbucks, put it in your water bottle in the morning, shake it up and boom! Decent coffee.
Coconut water, red gatorade. A gentleman helping me at B&H Photo and Video could tell I was hungover when trying to get something fixed, and insisted that I needed to drink 2 red gatorades. I had to make sure it was the red one. I did this and it has been my hangover cure ever since. Why red? No idea.
Boxed wine: take the bag out, smack it and pass it! Champagne, because essentially festivals are all celebrations. Whiskey – for those brisk nights.

On Your BOD

Warm-ass jacket, leggings, long johns. Layers, motherfucker: it’s going to be 36 degrees farenheit at night for this Desert Hearts
Gloves, spirit hood: fuzzy AND fashionable! Hack: remember your favorite childhood jewelry store Claire’s? THEY HAVE MOCK SPIRITHOODS FOR LESS THAN $20, as well as fluffies, flower head pieces, and cute caribeener wallets. Basically Claire’s is just grew up with us.
Tights, leg warmers, garter belts, thigh highs, harem pants, wings, onesies, funky hats, nothing – whatever the fuck you want
LEDs!!! It’s dark out at night and you want people to see you, right? EL Wire is the way to go.
Jewelry, makeup, glitter, sequins
Keep in mind the porta potties when deciding on your costume selection.

For Fun/Contribution

Flow toys, tarot cards, crystals, camera gear, gifts
A good attitude
Most important, come prepared to contribute, discuss boundaries, meeting places, be responsible for yourself and care about each other!

That about sums it up! Anything to add? Comment below!

Festival season is coming…

March 24, 2017By Focal NomadBLOG

This post reminded me why I love festivals so much. I was starting to feel out of touch with the experience. I’ve been so focused on paying bills, my health, getting my career on track and my relationship that I completely lost track of my spirit. And in loosing track of my spirit, the rest is following.I’ve been noticing some pretty scary patterns come up in my life that only I am responsible for.

When I’m focused on my art, and given lots of opportunity to create art, those patterns disappear. When I have a lot of free time and am going through something really emotional, I get really focused on meditation and learning. When I feel like I’ve fucked things up so bad, I leave where I’m at to attempt a new beginning. Hoping the past stays in the city I just left.The hard truth is, I’m the common denominator. If I’m only trying to save myself when I realize what my patterns are costing me, they will never go away. If I keep leaving my problems in another city, things might seem new for a while, but it will creep back in again once challenged with what I was challenged with before. If I’m only creating the art that is given to me, I will never show the world what’s truly in my soul and thereby withholding gifts from it that it very well may need.Resistance has taken over my life.

My ego is latching onto what it needs to believe so I don’t crumble from the weight of the responsibility I’ll have to take on from recognizing my own problems. We cannot rest our laurels on “triggers.” We all have them. If we constantly use the trigger excuse, we never have to take responsibility for our own growth.So there’s the first step. I acknowledge that I have a very, very long way to go in my growth. I accept my self-sabotage, and want to stop. The only way to stop is to put in the work, every day, even when things are good, because this is a lifetime of bad habits that I have to overcome. I see this in myself, and hope I can be forgiven, and use this knowledge to forgive others.

Desert Hearts will be my first festival of the season and it couldn’t be more perfect, as the lessons this community have taught me, are all centered and grounded in love. My new new year is spring, when festival season starts. As every event I go to shows me myself at my greatest capacity for love, my greatest capacity for wisdom and compassion and my greatest aptitude for just letting everything go and exploring as though I were a kid again. I can witness myself there at my best, and then remember that my perception of life is a choice. Life can be a festival if I want it to. It might be scary to be that vulnerable and that authentic and that trusting all of the time – but in the end, we are here to evolve. Evolution takes a lifetime, not just a few weekends a year.