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Kimberly Perez

Regina Flores

English 9 and Period 3

09 November 2017

The Festival

When people hear the word festival, most would think of the stereotypical carnival, with

rides, games, and small booths. When I hear the word festival, I think of amazing art that took

weeks to make, clothes and accessories made from scratch, the people, my first experiences, and

most importantly, the music. The music that you could hear from miles away, and the strength of

the bass that will shake your soul, and fill every pore of your skin, and relish through every nerve

of your brain and body.

I forgot how old I was when I went to Youtopia, my first festival. My parents bought

tickets for all of us as a birthday gift, you got to sleepover for a certain amount of days, camping

out on the harsh weather but amazing landscape. Their gift was more of taking me to see the

festival, to experience it, as other festivals had their landscapes decorated in tall and bright

structures. I remember feeling excited, or at least acting that way. In reality I was confused, I was

unsure how the whole festival thing worked. I felt doubtful that I would really like it. My mom

tried to explain her best to me that the festival happened to be a very moving experience for her.

There were places you stopped and just, danced. Places where you stopped to admire small carts

that had fun designs on them, or maybe a huge art cart that was dressed as an octopus, shooting

flames out of its tentacles. She also said that in some of the more popular festivals, there was

nudity. My young self didnt understand that this was a place to open up, be yourself, and just be

who you are without being judged. It sounded so weird, just like it probably does right now.
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At the same festival, I saw a lot of nudity, with fabulous clothes and accessories covering

most parts, lots of art and camps that gave food or just set up a comfortable seating place for you

to dance or just sit around. I had turned my face away in hot embarrassment and privacy for

those who decided to walk naked. I was young and did not particularly want to know about

anatomy. These people that decide to walk around naked, wanted to express their freedom,

where else can you walk around naked without anyone to judge-- in public? Everyone

surrounding me never judged, they dont judge, the community of the festival always awed me.

They seemed to appreciate everyone who rocked what they had on or off. They didnt care if

you were young, old, a teenager, or whatever, they always wanted you to have fun.

I remember feeling shocked that no one cared for the half nude people that would walk

around. Most importantly I noticed that they walked as if they werent totally nude. Not only did

it amaze me, but it made me realize there were more ways to express yourself that didnt meet

the eyes, not at first. It was astounding to me, that they felt so open they had to express it through

freedom of clothes? It mattered to me that they could walk around, feeling proud of what they

had, feeling beautiful, handsome, gorgeous, just because it was how they expressed themselves.

Some encouraged it, some mentioned the accessories they wore, others complimented what they

had, others would just high five them. It was so interesting to see that they didnt feel the shyness

I would feel, or the insecurity I would get and have.

This only doubled when I came across the music, by this time, I was already used to the

barren land decorated in sharp and mesmerizing colors, and the music that basically shook the

ground and vibrated through your soul and body. I could literally feel as it coursed through me,

every change of tempo, and drop it would do. There is no genre I would name this type of music,

because it was-- is, one of a kind. I remember observing the other people as they danced with the
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beat, and stepped to the rhythm, sometimes bumping into others but they only smiled and

laughed about it. I was much older by this time, already used to the ways of the festival, but I

still didnt understand how the dancing worked. There were times when I would internally

snicker at the the way people danced, laugh at the way theyd all swoop to the music and

exaggerate on dance moves. Things normal people would do if they didnt see the way of the

festival.

Then, I started dancing. Moving my hips, waist, feet, every limb I had, just because the

music had gotten too much that I couldnt just sit around and sway. It was uncanny as I never

liked to dance. The emotion was unrecognizable, the feeling of just being lost into a song, or the

beat, or the rhythm, songs that lasted for minutes, others for hours. Most times, the songs didnt

stop, they just flowed into a different tune and that's what theyd go with. Of course people DJd

at these festivals. I went backstage on one very important person that everyone knew, but havent

met; This was in the most recent festival I have went to, Lightning In a Bottle, also called LIB. It

was another time pausing moment, just sitting back there while his music was poured from his

heart and sweat and into the set he had set up and through the speakers. I had a view of all the

people below, as I just sat there, eyes scanning my surroundings and watching the people below.

It never hit me more but in that moment when I saw how entranced everyone became. It

was like how I was feeling, where I could only dance but not think. I realized when Id laughed

all those times at how everyone dances, it was simply because I was insecure about my own

dancing skills, because I was too scared to even try to move my body. When I gazed at them

dancing and looked around, thats when I realized, no one cared. No one judged you, because

they were probably just as bad as you. Everyone was most likely just as bad as everyone else, the

way their hands and arms moved like tentacles, or the way they swooped like birds, heads
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bobbing like those head bobbing toys. Normally everyone would be watching out to see if

anyone would look at them, see if they noticed their horrible dancing skills, but there, no one

gave an absolute crap, they just danced, laughed, had fun, as if everyone was in their own little,

oblivious bubble. A bubble that protected them from the judgement of others, that repelled the

negative thoughts about themselves and made them more opened. In these festivals, people

expressed themselves in ways that are very much not welcomed into society, into the cruel world

thats beyond the festival.

Without a doubt, when I go back to a festival, when Im much older, I hope I have

already formed that bubble, and others as well. The festivals have all taught me how to be open

and be more available to music and although Im still a little shy to dance. The imprint of the

people dancing will forever be in my mind. In every song that plays, every hum that escapes the

lips of a passerby will forever cause my brain to imagine the barren landscape, cold nights, and

the drops of precipitation on a smiling face, as I think back to the lasting images of the festivals.