The "queer vibe" at High Sierra was much more visible to me this year. It's still frustratingly under the surface and not "connected" as yet, but I feel it's getting there. For what felt like the first time in six years, I was "checked out" by other guys, had a few conversations with guys I thought might be interested, and even had a sweet and intimate exchange during a late night show that lasted on into the early morning while we danced (with energy that came from some unknown corner of the universe as my own reserves were long since shot) at the DJ "stage" by the coffee bar in the food court.
The first experience of having more "queer presence" was in our own camp, as a good friend from Oregon and his housemate camped with us. That increased my comfort level in being more natural and comfortable as I "let my hair" down so to speak and I could just be myself even more. The next experience was running into two women I've seen at the festival for a few years and know from Oakland. On the last morning, I saw them again and we agreed it'd be great to have a big "queer camp," and have an autonomous space where we could be the majority!! I think this is a wonderful idea.
One of my festival highlights was not the music, but the "adoption" to our camp of two teenage boys who drove from upstate Washington to come to the festival for their first time. They set up their tent in the baking sun next to us, in an area more shaped and suited for a much larger camp of eight or so people, so we decided to invite them to camp behind us where we could provide them some shade. They had been behind us in line going into the festival and ended up on our shuttle. They asked us where to camp, and we told them we were going to Shady Grove. I assume when they spotted us setting up camp, they decided to attach to something or someone familiar. In the end, it worked out very well.
They were very cute and dear and very eager to hang out with us. We kind of played parents to them, which was probably necessary given their inexperience in all matters festival! I think we enriched their experience greatly, and vice versa. I was a bit nervous at having "minors" camped with us, given the egregiously awful police presence, and in fact when I talked to one of them in the parking lot in passing, a police officer wouldn't take his eyes off of me, just waiting to do something "wrong." Ugh. Anyway, why does this fit queer vibe? Because one of the boys was totally enamored with me, and didn't seem to mind that I was queer. In my own camp, I'm going to be 110% myself, and if that means putting on a skirt or cracking gay jokes or being a flaming sissy, I'm going to do that fully and completely. I'm not going to modify my behavior for anyone else's comfort, not even a "moldable" teenager. I think it's beneficial for someone at that age to see someone queer being themselves fully and having lots of fun with it. I'm not a flamer, but I can be at times, and my camp mates like to joke with me on that level. So I appreciated those boys being in our camp, being comfortable with us, and wanting to hang out with us because they thought we were just way cool! In fact, one of them brought some other boys they'd met back to our camp to show it to them, because they wanted to "show off" their weekend home!! It was very cute, but also made me uncomfortable at the possibility of having random people come into our camp (nevermind the underage-cop connection possibility… again, ugh… which by the way ended up being fine, and none of us were interested in "contributing to delinquency").
At some point during one of the shows I met eyes with an older long haired man whom I immediately knew was checking me out. I'm still not sure why I don't connect with these men - we just look from a distance, that's all. And again the next day, as I'm walking out from the Grandstand area with my camp mates to go to another set of music, a guy locks his eyes on me as I walk past. I register this a bit too late, as we're walking fast as not to miss the music, and I see that he's watching me walk away. Then he tells his friend something, and starts walking after us. Caught in the current of movement and the crowd, I don't stop to go back and greet him. Sigh. After a few moments he gives up.
What I don't understand either is that while ordinarily I engage people at this festival with an open and big heart, when the encounters like that one become real and apparent, something about me shuts down. And coming from the other side, my experience with follow-through is pretty poor in that guys don't engage me either, don't take the initiative. Are gay men just confused, scared, unable to take the risk of meeting someone new? There's always the fear of embarrassment, rejection, or perhaps worse in approaching someone who's sexual orientation is unknown. Anyway, I saw this guy later coming into the restroom by Big Meadow and spoke to him. Granted, it's a restroom, not the ideal venue for getting to know someone, but he didn't really engage me in even the most basic of conversations. Shy? Uncomfortable? Not interested? Not queer? Who knows. I very much doubt the latter, because about ten minutes later, I saw him walking with the older long haired man with whom I had made eye contact earlier! What are the chances? So, the story in my head is that they're both queer, or at least bi or interested or something, and they managed to at least get beyond whatever hang-ups of the variety I have in my own mind and connect. Sigh.
One of the sweetest connections of the festival was with a boy I met during ALO's main stage set (which, by the way, was energetic and hot hot fun). I arrived down front to meet up with my camp mates and deliver them pitchers of icy cocktails that I'd just blended up on my solar-powered blender. (Yes, we had a solar-powered cocktail hour in our camp.) I then misted the folks around us to cool down a bit from heat of the afternoon sun. As the mist cleared, this lovely boy was staring me down. Wow! I smiled big, and set down my bottle to continue dancing. In the next moment, I find that he's moved over through the crowd and standing next to me. He thanks me profusely for cooling him off. Then he hands me a piece of glass. I'm not much into smoking at festivals, as it spaces me out (the crowd alone can knock me way off center), but I don't wish to refuse a medicinal gift from a hot boy, so I give thanks to Shiva and enjoy myself (and his presence). He dances near me for the rest of the set, and we talk afterward. There are no obvious "signs," but the sign of him seeking me out in a crowd is incredibly heart-warming. We part ways, and he says he really hopes to see me later that night for more music! How sweet!
And sure enough, I see him at the end of Lotus, who closed out the Big Meadow stage. (By the way, Lotus is incredible, and their bass player is hunky hot.) I thought he was a guy that had been hanging out with the two boys camping with us, and so I followed him through the crowd because I thought that would lead me to them. Those boys were about to hit the road (at 11pm?), and I wanted to say a final goodbye, yet had not seen them. As it turns out, I was wrong, but in a great way, as we got to talk again. He didn't indicate that he wanted to wander and hang out, and eventually we parted ways. Even though our connection stayed on a friendly level (did I mention he's gorgeous?) and our encounters together were rather brief, I found them very rewarding. Even if he's not gay, there's still some aspect to him that's open to connecting with other guys in a comfortable and open way that I find so very refreshing coming from younger guys. My God, I was nowhere near that level at that age!
Back to the boy I connected with during the Flecktones late-night. I have seen him at the festival for a few years, but never had connected with him before. He's a "bliss kitten," a labeling that's perhaps a bit derogatory, but accurate. He looks like he's in a permanent state of Samadhi. He dances gracefully, albeit somewhat reservedly, as though he's connecting with every star in the cosmos, with a perma-grin. I see him migrating through the crowd touching and hugging and dancing with lots of folks, mostly those who are open to the cosmic dance. During one of the main stage sets, he comes by me and there's a moment of recognition. Now I think maybe we did connect and dance together last year. At any rate, he could very well have moved on by me in his non-personal bliss of the unity with all beings. But I took his hand and smiled, at which point he pulled me in for a big, long hug. And that hug turned into massage, into dancing, into smiling together, into giving worship to the Sun, which was baking all of us in heat and the warm light of musical ecstasy. Then it came time to be apart. I gather he's either socially awkward, or just doesn't talk much, perhaps his mother did too much acid in utero. Whatever the case, I can only go so far in a connection with someone; they have to meet me and engage me on equal footing. But I'm not going to push this particular boy off just because he's yet another young, hot, affectionate, and sweet boy who sends confusing signals, can't communicate well, and yet lingers in my energy field because there's some strong light here and they get that on some deep level and they like to dance with it. Great. But it's a lovely connection and I'm going to ride it as far as it goes.
So again he migrates through the crowd at the Flecktones show (which was incredibly hot and amazing, by the way), and eventually comes over to be with me and dance with me. And right there in the middle of the crowd, we hold each other and dance intimately, the radiation of love between us so strong and palatable. I see the part of me that can be uncomfortable with "PDA" and being visibly more than just affectionate with other guys starting to slip away, as the part that wishes for genuine connection becoming stronger. (As an aside, Northern California seems to be chock full of "snags," sensitive men in touch with their emotions who are comfortable being physically affectionate with other men, and the vast majority of whom aren't queer or gay, which frustrates me and other queer men endlessly.) Also, there's still the less genuine aspect of my personality that enjoys the visibility, which on some level is very self-centered, but on another is a selfless service to queer or questioning guys who haven't done that work, who don't have that comfort - for them to see me in this way and know that it's okay to be who they are in any given situation, even in public, right in the middle of a concert! Gods, I've been wanting this for such a long time. And I still want to share these concert experiences with a boyfriend, and preferably a lover or partner. But in this moment, this boy has sought me out and opened himself to intimacy, and I wish to share it with him without judgment - my own judgment or the judgment of anyone around us.
He connects with people as he leaves the music hall, awkwardly awaiting me yet not coming over to me, and he wanders out the door. My best friend comes in, rather spun, and wants to hang out and chat. Every fiber of my being is walking toward the door with that boy, so I make clear to my friend that we'll meet up later. All being well, we do. So "bliss boy" and I stroll arm in arm toward the food court, where the "afterparty" begins as the sky slowly but certainly takes on its blue hue of morning. And as I've said, the energy to continue going and dancing came from somewhere else. Which of course left me completely sapped the next day, but that's another day. Now I am dancing in the food court like a maniac, smiling and having a blast with friends both old and new. My friend arrives, we stroll around to have some "morning refreshments" (ordinarily known as wake and bake, but there's no sleep from which to wake) and come back to the party. My affectionate boy is still here - we've already had many sweet moments at this particular DJ set, including some contact improv style dance and lifting him up on my back, which I could feel sent him into a deep space inner journey of even more bliss. And at some point, I wanted him to come walk with us for the morning refreshment, but he didn't seem to want to - I had to make assumptions since he's a non-communicator (literally, about all I got when asked if he wanted to walk with us was "I don't care"). So, seeing as how he wanted to stay at the center of the semi-circle of dance energy around the DJ, I figured this was just as good a place as any to share love and touch and energy. So we were very visible, and he didn't seem uncomfortable at all. He also gave me a neck massage, as my neck was very tense, and I gave him a leg and foot rub down, as his legs were dead from dancing so much that day. Very, very sweet exchange. At one point I paused for laughter with my best friend as he passed by through the crowd and showed me his cell phone, which displayed "4:20" (damn, it's late/early!). The boy then tells me to return my hands to his legs and keep going! He's enjoying this as much as I am. On some level, he's meeting my energy and really engaging. So confusing, but let's keep drama out of this, and just embody bliss.
Back to queer energy and vibe at the festival, in this DJ party there were two guys that emerged (probably from the Disco Biscuits late night when it finished) and were stunningly beautiful. We made eye contact, but when I went to dance near the one of them whom most caught my attention, he moved elsewhere in the crowd. Then he went and danced with the bliss boy!! (He has a name, which I'm choosing not to use in writing.) I'm thinking okay, I have a connection with one of them, so I'll go over and we'll connect as a group and dance together. Maybe this will break the ice and we can be introduced. Nope, I go over and he dances back into the crowd. Later those two left together, and even though they didn't display any obvious signs of being a couple, energetically it was clear to me they were. So, is there anything I could have done to be more present and available, and open the possibility of connection? Again, guys have to "meet me halfway," show up, and engage me in return. Again, big sigh.
It's way past my bedtime! I try to leave many times but bliss boy becomes even harder to engage. So I dance with him some more, and tell him I'm going to bed. I ask him if he wants to leave with me, knowing full well that neither of us really want that (I just want to turn off my brain and lull my body to sleep for God's sake). He only answers, "no," with a smile. So I thank him for being available and open with me. I ask if we can share a kiss. He doesn't answer, but he also doesn't take his cheek away from mine. So I'm in the lead. I have to give myself credit as not only a great kisser but very sensitive to where the other guy is at. So I'm not going for the tonsils here, I want to be very gentle. I don't want to linger where he feels we're finished. The result could only be magic. And in its completeness, he hugged me very tightly. I slowly pulled out of the crowd, and he watched every move of my departure. Our final contact for the festival was me blowing him a kiss, which he caught in his heart and closed his eyes. Unbelievable. I feel like I'm writing a fictional story. What blows me away is that I am not.
I'm finding it hard to write a conclusion because I'm not sure what to conclude. I've said for years that High Sierra feels very "straight" to me. Not that straight couples are displaying their affections in an overt and public way - certainly they are, and should be, if couples are there together enjoying the music and festival vibe, they should enjoy each other's company fully. But where are the queer couples or groups? There was a gaggle of queer guys and gals there two years ago when Garrin Benfield played the festival, and his fans and close friends are such lovely folks. That was surely a fun year for me as a result. So I guess what I drew from this year's experience is that more queer folks are either coming to the festival, or more open to connecting with other queers there. Why is that important? Because our community shares something unique and wonderful that cannot be translated well into a largely "straight" atmosphere. So this idea of a queer camp is very appealing to me, not so that we can segregate ourselves, but integrate ourselves more fully into the festival and support each other and be supported to be who we are without shame or fear. And from that mutual support arises deeper connections with each other and with our broader group of friends who share that festival experience, and the development of new friendships that are waiting to be discovered. Those possibilities, especially the chance to connect with other queer folks, have been mostly latent for me at the festival in past years. This year blew the doors open, and it's my hope for future festivals that with the doors opened wide, a community of queers can comfortably and joyfully stroll through them to enjoy the diversity of people and experiences that await us all at High Sierra.