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Take a Little Piece of My Heart Now, Baby

11/21/2015

4 Comments

 
Pictureon our mantle: keepsakes from MichFest
As we pulled away from the Night Stage Parking Lot in August for the very last time, no other sound track would do. From a portable sound system in the back of a pick-up truck, the Carps crew was dismantling the stage to Janis wailing our shared primal pain, "Coooome on, coooome on, coooome on, coooome on, and TAKE IT! Take another little piece of my heart now, baby!"

For nearly every summer of the last 20, I've been among the thousands of women from newborns to 90 who've journeyed from all over the world to the woods of northern Michigan to build a city that celebrates female power. The Michigan Womyn's Music Festival - I've written about it before.

This year, the 40th, was the last. Knowing that this beloved grandmother, sister, teacher, home was coming to the end of her life cycle, we mourned as fiercely as we celebrated. Three days before the gates opened for the Festival week, I co-led several hundred members of the worker community in a Living Funeral. We spoke our collective eulogy, sharing with each other what we loved about the place, the experience, the community. We made our bucket lists: what we wanted to make sure to do, see, say such that when it was over we would have no regrets. And we talked about how we would go on, what we would take from MichFest into our lives and the wider world.

Picture
The day before our departure, Amber and I took a final walk around The Land, a walk of remembrance. We scooped up pea gravel from the sublime outdoor showers, one of many unofficial community centers. A scrap of yarn from the weaving around the Goddess statue at the back of the Night Stage Bowl. A safety pin and painted washer from behind what had been the Acoustic Stage. A feather from The Quiet Walk out by the swamp. The papery orb of an oak gall, acorns, curly maple bark. All the precious flotsam and jetsam found its place in an old jam jar.

We headed back up to the campsite that had been our annual summer home for all these years, my eyes still scanning the ground. There, on the crossroads to our path, I saw a scrap of red ribbon nearly covered by leaves. I picked it up to add to the jar. As if to confirm the future life that would be fed by this conscious ending, the ribbon bore a single word: Phoenix. 

As our final farewell ritual, after striking our camp the next day and loading our gear into position for our shuttle to the airport, we buried a time capsule. Into a mason jar we'd placed the polaroid photos of each of us from the who's who photo board in the Staff Services Tent where we'd worked. A finisher's ribbon from the 5K Lois Lane Run. A wrist ticket, the one piece of "clothing" every worker had in common, no matter how widely we varied in aesthetics otherwise. The crystal that commemorated the death of a community member in a fatal car accident, unpacked each year to hang in the window of our tent. A remnant of rope from the elaborate tarp Amber erected to keep us cozy in the epic rains. 

Amber dug a little grave on the spot we'd pitched our tent. We laid our jar inside, tucking it in with a few ferns. We returned the shovel we'd borrowed, took our final outdoor showers, and pulled away to Janis making the broken-hearted sound we all wished we could make.

Picture
thank you, Janis (click image for a taste)
4 Comments
Audrey patrivk
11/22/2015 07:16:30 pm

Holly,
That was so beautiful! I began coming to fest in year 13, the year of the shigella. I did not get sick.
I began working in 1994. I remember when Amber would drive to pick you up at the airport, we'd wave to you, the transportation crew at the GR. airport! What fun it all was, I will never forget it all.
Thanks for sharing fest with me for all those years!

Love, audrey

Reply
Holly
11/29/2015 02:42:27 pm

Audrey, Thanks for sharing this little piece of your story. Walking by you at the Artist Shuttle desk was one of my favorite routines. xoxo

Reply
Sally
11/23/2015 08:06:52 pm

"Happy. Grumpy."

Reply
Holly
11/29/2015 02:41:17 pm

Sally, exactly! Well quoted. :-)

Reply



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  • Holly Pruett Celebrant LLC – Creative Life Ceremonies from Cradle to Grave
  • Certified Life-Cycle Celebrant ® | Funeral & Wedding Officiant | Interfaith Minister
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