Off With Their Heads!


Or something like that.

I am going to the Steampunk Masquerade Ball with Serpent Mother on Saturday at NIMBY in Oakland hosted by Airpusher Collective.

I have no idea what I am wearing, perhaps a mask?

Bahaha.

But in the spirit of trying new things, going new places and having new experiences, I agreed to grab a ticket, $30, and go with a girl friend of mine who I don’t get to see a lot of and really want to reconnect with.

And she’s got a car.

So I won’t have to BART over.

Even though the event is offering shuttles from the BART, which is hella cool, I much prefer to not have to take the N-Judah to the BART en costume.

What costume that is going to be, fuck if I know, but I’ll pile my hair up on my head and stick some feathers and flowers in it and wear a mask and my playa boots and say fuck it that’s good enough.

I actually dug out my Burning Man bin and found what I had forgotten, that I lost my favorite goggles last year and need to replace them.

That I don’t have much by way of costume, either.

Really my wardrobe, in its current state is what I wear when I go to Burning Man, give or take a pair of striped socks.

I feel a tiny compulsion to purchase “steampunk” attire, but I don’t want to drop a load of money.

Really, though, I am just happy to have some weekend plans aside from doing the deal and making food for the work week.

Sometimes that feels like all I do, although, that feeling is not a fact and I know that the basics that I do cover allow me to go out and have the experiences that I crave.

This is going to be fun, I will see some folks, hopefully, that I don’t typically see until I am out on playa, and I will get to hang with my friend, catch up, dance, look at art, be fabulous, wear fishnets (please, I have many pairs and they haven’t been worn in months), dance some more, be around fire (fire! fire!) and the Flaming Lotus Girls work–Serpent Mother.

I love me some fire art.

I do.

I do.

There is just something about it that makes me happy.

I don’t recall why I did it, but when I was four years old and I lit a bunch of paper bags on fire in a dry lot behind the apartment building we lived in.  I got the bags, I got the matches, I rounded up the neighborhood kids, and I lit that shit up.

Of course my ass got lit up soon thereafter.

I didn’t know what a drought was, but the neighbor lady did and boy, oh boy, did she bend my mom’s ear.

My favorite smell?

Firewood burning.

More specifically, bonfire on the beach, but I will happily take the smell of any wood burning, well, except chemically treated plywood, I’m surprised I’m not dead from the shit I inhaled when I was a homeless kid building campfires from scavenged wood in Miami, that stuff is horrible.

I almost always have candles burning in my home.

I love the way matches smell when lit.

I used to be a smoker.

But you know, cough up a little blood and a lady changes her mind.

“I saw that!” He said, drawing back, “don’t you dare ask for one!”

He chastised me.

I didn’t even realize that I had leaned forward inhaling the dry smoke wafting from his Camel cigarette at Burning Man.

I was out with a friend taking photographs and he smokes.

I don’t, not for nearly ten years now, well, May will make ten years, but that night, I don’t know what it was, had he offered I might have.

Burning Man is one of the few places and times I have been tempted to smoke, but I never have and doubtful I will start this event either.

There is a romance to it though.

All things must burn.

Maybe it’s the ephemeral, maybe it’s the magic of fire.

I could watch wood burn in a barrel and be happy as a clam for hours.

My first time out as a playa nanny the dad handed over his fireman’s jacket, the real deal, and I happily wrapped myself up in it and got as close to the burn barrel as possible.

I should have been a fire fighter.

That was a dream I had once.

But I’m too old now, that’s for sure I cannot imagine what it would take at the age of 42 to get into the fire academy.

Rather I’ll relish the work of others and stand aside to fantasize.

Burn baby burn.

Anywho.

There’s a day yet to decide what to wear, not that I think it’s really all that important, but I do want to dress up a little, flex a little Burning Man muscle, have some fun.

“Make sure you have fun this weekend!” She admonished me as we walked out the gates tonight at Our Lady of Safeway.

“Do something nice for yourself,” she added, and hugged me.

I do like to take a suggestion, I’m good at following directions.

I will do something fun.

I promise.

I won’t worry about what to wear, rather I will just be glad that I splurged on the ticket and I will get to go and have a new experience.

The event is being held at NIMBY in Oakland, which is a huge DIY warehouse on Amelia Street.

It’s funny when I think about it, there are lots of DIY things and art that I find compelling and amazing and attractive, yet I have no compulsion to DIY anything.

But I am always amazed by people who are, I admire the carpenter, welder, sculptor, painter, fire magician type folks, hell even a seamstress amazes me.

I have no skills along those lines and I find that kind of talent and ability quite sexy.

Maybe one day.

But for now.

I shall be content to don a dress and mask and boots and join in support of some extraordinary artistic talent.

Thirty dollars beyond well spent.

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One Response to “Off With Their Heads!”

  1. Mac Says:

    Love steampunk..but it just makes me wanna make my own…go ‘harvesting” in a junk shop..then buy nautical parts…

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