I heard someone say once, "Oh no, not another learning experience!"
I appreciate that more than ever after
Firefly.
There were lots of lows, but the highs were amazing.
No one else was at camp yet, so I toted my stuff in about half a dozen loads, through a reasonably good road with a few flooded bogs. Set up my tent, and got my artwork equipment organized. Matt and Nancy showed up towards dusk, and we brought most of their stuff in before dark.
But overnight, wave after wave of pounding thunderstorms came sweeping over us, and both the roads and the trails got much boggier, with lots of areas of standing water. The two Jeffs showed up on Friday, amid more waves of rain -- the thunder was so dull and non reverberant that we thought it was blasting or something -- and the video theatre was deployed under tarps.
Saturday dawned quite clear and nice, and I took advantage of it by stringing clotheslines and hanging my wet stuff up to dry, and also layed the Leonid Lights out in the sun to dry. But I kind of smelled more rain coming, and pulled all my stuff into the tent after lunch.
This was when we all heard that a mondo low pressure system was heading in, predictions of solid heavy rain through Sunday and Monday, and rumors of being trapped on site for a week or more. None of us had food or water to camp that long, and the Firefly leaders were said to have urged anyone who could get out to go now.
We had an informal council, and the two Jeffs decided to button up their tents and leave them there, walking out with a backpack each, planning to come back to get their tents when conditions became better. Matt, his gal, and I decided to stay and tough it out. I think it was plain pigheadedness as much as anything: we'd worked hard and long to get all the equipment together and brought in and set up, and damned if we weren't going to enjoy it!
Saturday night was pleasantly rainfree for the early part, but late night there were more waves of heavy rain. By Sunday morning, the trails were no longer lakes, but rivers, flowing strongly. I squelched my way to Center Camp and talked with folks there, hearing that out of about 500 total people on site, maybe 150 had left on Saturday. The sky started out worrisomely heavy and dark, but gradually cleared, and Sunday afternoon and evening were delightful, with partial clouds. Monday morning was bright blue sky everywhere, and good hot sun that seemed to help dry the roads.
It was better than it had been Sunday morning, but it was still much worse than when I came up it. Checking the mud canyons on what I could see of the road, and convinced that I was probably going to get stuck, I made arrangements with Joe from Psylab to push me with his four wheel drive behemoth. I draped a towel over the rental car's back bumper, without much faith that it would prevent damage. But I got a good running start and plowed through it, slipping and skidding and bouncing in the ruts, without getting stuck once! Yay front wheel drive.
As disgusting and frustrating as the mud was, it had the same
quality of the harsh conditions on the playa, of bringing people
together to get through it. But I'm very very glad to have dry feet
and sleep in a dry bed again.
This artwork was Matt's idea from last year: a movie theater in
the woods, away from the thumpa-thumpa music, playing unusual and
surreal videos. He ended up putting an old video projector and amp
under a fly tarp, covering speakers in plastic, hanging a translucent
screen between two trees, and building a couple of benches out of
blank lumber. This first setup turned out to be better for widescreen
than regular 4:3, so Matt showed Yellow Submarine, which was his only
widescreen material. I remember growing up wanting to live in that
world -- what fun to see the movie again!
On Saturday Matt realigned the projector for the 4:3 programming
material, and the rest of us hung a big tarp over the viewing area --
figuring if were were expecting all this rain, we ought to give the
audience a chance to shelter and dry out. It worked pretty well. A
fair number of people came through on Saturday night to check it out,
and most sat for at least one or two videos. I was playing host in my
recliner camp chair, offering them beer -- Matt's homebrew, served
from my kegs, pressurized with dry ice nuggets!
It all ran off a generator that belongs to Autosub. I have a
heavy duty 100 foot extension cord, which dates back to my IDR days,
so we put it way back in the woods, downslope. The engine noise was
present, but not bad, and swamped by the sound of wind in the trees,
for instance. Next time, I'll make a point of being Doctor Acoustics
and string quilts between a couple trees to make a sound barrier.
The programming was drawn partly from my animation collection, a
couple movies (notably Koyaanisqatsi), and one gem from Canada's
National Film Board:
Le Chateau de sable (The Sand Castle), a 1977 Oscar winner by Co
Hoedeman. It's not often I learn of an animator who does the kind of
work I really like, that I've never even heard of before! It looks
like Co Hoedeman has a couple of video tapes still in publication,
might be time to grab a couple. My stuff was mostly Bill Plympton and
various "best of" collections. It was fun -- plenty of odd imagery to
go around.
The name "Very Strange Video" was a rather goofy idea of mine. I
threw it out because I have so many projects and things going on that
I need to name them in order to keep them straight. I recall saying
that someone really should come up with something better, but there
seemed to be no takers. I even suggested VeSuVius, as a sort of
volcano of video. Nope. So VSV it is and ever shall be, I guess.
There's no question that the low turnout was disappointing. We
were far enough away from the main camp that the horribly muddy trails
became a major barrier -- very few people made the squelchy trek.
Those that did seemed to like the effect a whole lot!
More to come ...
Very Strange Video
Last updated 5 July 2006