Wow. What a great weekend it's been. Yesterday, I woke up fairly early and drank my coffee while secretly thanking the heavens for the beautiful weather and cool morning air. I slowly got ready, and with some help from the darling Sophie dog, who sits on my balcony like a bitchy Juliet, I put on my cowboy boots and a white summer dress to go pick up C for the music festival. C and I drove to Driftwood, Texas, about a half hour outside of Austin, enjoying the sun and unmistakable fall breeze whipping our smiling cheeks.
When we arrived in Driftwood (after I passed our destination first, naturally) we were greeted with big grins from festival volunteers in worn jeans and t-shirts with banjos on them. I knew instantly it would be a good day. Since the music hadn't officially started, C and I decided to get lunch across the street at a famous BBQ joint called the Salt Lick. Now, I know what you're thinking, what in the world would Kristen even eat there? But they actually have a 'veggie' plate that includes a thick potato salad that sticks to your gums, coleslaw, and a nice helping of baked beans with, you guessed it, bits of bacon. And, to top it all off, a piece of big fluffy German bread to coat your already bulging stomach with. C got some actual meat, which at least helped make us not look like such hippies, and then we sat at over-sized picnic tables positioned under the most lovely Pecan trees you've ever seen. Their knobby, dark wood twisted and turned above our heads as we kicked back beers and talked about school, men and everything in between (which isn't much, because those two things are pretty potent elements to good convo).
I can't say I think about weddings too much, even though it is a hot topic in my house, but I have to say that the Salt Lick in Driftwood would be perfect. There are dangling white lights, an old wooden stage, and I can just picture myself in a beautiful white dress and my cowboy boots, looking around at everyone I love in this world holding up mason jars filled with beer to toast with. So, after we ate more than was sufficient, we made it back to the music festival in time to catch a jam session. Now, picture a lot of banjos, guitars, fiddles and mandolins all playing together in a euphoric harmony, while the shade lingers around you and the sun only peaks in to bring all of the music to a very magical glow. And the people, some in overalls, but mostly over 40 with such happiness spread over them that you know they look forward to this event all year. People are hugging old friends, reminiscing about last year's festival, and holding their instruments as though they are beloved toddlers straddling their hips.
And, the music, I simply can't describe. I think that the juiciest things in life are not properly portrayed in any form of communication, and music is one of them. I don't know what it is about the banjo, and folk/bluegrass in general, but hearing those porch-tapping beats brings my mind to its most simplistic, beautiful state. All I want to think of are the wildness of flowers, the luminescence of a sunrise, and the joy that comes with friends and American dreaming. I would say that if my happiness were some kind of recipe, I would need more than a pinch of folk music in order to get the flavor just right. It affects me in a way I am scared to think about, because the happiness comes at me so quickly, so sharply, that it's almost scary. I wonder sometimes if I heard a lot of it as a kid, or perhaps I acquired the taste, like I did with beer, but whatever the reason it is indeed my most true and dearest genre, and it inevitably makes me think of open spaces and all my dearest ones back home.
The creativity and rhythms of all the bands were sensational, that I will say, and while sitting in a foldable chair and sipping a beer, somehow hours slipped by and C and I grew so relaxed we both were at risk of drifting into a lullaby.
My favorite band yesterday was the Lost Pines. They were just awkward enough to be funny when they talked, and just passionate enough to blend into one true force of music while they played. They were truly magical in their playing, and even my lazy foot was coerced into a constant movement to try and be a part of it. It was also special to see my banjo teacher, though, strumming and picking away on his instrument in a band I didn't even know he was part of.
And now, what do I get to do tonight? I get to experience the magic of the Avett Brothers, at the most popular music venue in Austin, with two of my dear friends, D and H. So, has this weekend rocked? Yes, indeed it has.
I think if I met October on the street, I would hug her, because so far she has been the reason my spirits are high and my life is glimmering :-)
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