...pretty much the score for every Mahler symphony ever written.
It was that damn intense.
Things outside the faire had as much to do with things as within. My mom was dealing with stress over my brother's growing depression whilst riding/driving down to Jax for my uncle's birthday, then gets a call that another uncle had a heart attack, yada yada. Then there's work, where I find that my workload keeps increasing on a particular project as it reaches its end rather than winding down the way most of these projects do, leading to more pressure (and more excuses for the other work commitments I keep having to postpone, things I wanted done a month ago...). Add to all that the lack of sleep and excessive driving during hell week, and thus my post about a lack of sanity last week.
So the festival started.
Nothing in particular went dramatically wrong, but there were lots of little corrective actions needed that kept me on my toes, trying to find my new rhythm in things. Saturday was entirely a matter of logistics.
( saturday's bullets... )Interesting changes
- Patrick Orwell's flutes are gone.
- this unused space under the Bee Folk is now the "Bee Hind" selling more of the wax candles and honey candy and sticks to those passing by the globe.
Sunday. Knowing the intensity will continue, I take everything slower than usual. However, saturday's logistical study paid off and I had few incidents of needing to double-back on things.
( sunday's shorter bullets )next week, 2:30 by the info booth, 4:30 boardwalk (dragon if it rains).
later this week, i'll post my full thoughts on "the news" and what it really means even as it wasn't really true.