Spell It with RRRRRRRRRRRRRR

WHOA mad blog-withdrawal. I think it's just cuz I've been in music-land and new website-building land and also house-hunting and packing-moving land... unfortunately that shit takes time (where is my cabana team). I don't mind it so much though, all part of the general life upgrade.. you're supposed to work for things to enjoy them fully right? And who knew that kickboxing and the patriarchy go so well together? Not to be even more of a bitch cliche but uhhh... I love that shit. Also it's a fabulous opportunity to wear my vintage Puma wrestling boots. Ideal.

Moving means loud tune listening, and I've been back into the grunge / punk / riot grrl music action like whoa. And just in case you are one of those obnoxious people born in the early nineties (arrrgh, you never get my jokes or Hallowe'en costumes, I was THE BEE GIRL!!!), here is a reason why I keep using two r's when I spell "grrl". Nope, it's not cuz I'm retarded or because I saw some cool chick spell it like that on her blog... actually, oh shit. Wait a minute.

Ok so technically it wasn't a blog, it was a zine, but that was basically the early nineties' answer to the blog, only like, wayyyy harder to do so it was about a billion time cooler. Cuz you had to be fucking dedicated to get your shit together to type something out, find drawings for it and then get it together to steal (I mean borrow) someone's copycard and photocopy it and then staple it and stuff it or whatever and then mail it to say, oh I don't know, some random Canadian prairie capital where a pissed=off, overly-sexed mentally-frustrated teenager with purple hair and bad jewelry awaited EVERY SINGLE WORD. Cuz yah. Doing all that pretty much reeks of effort. Thank god all I have to do now is just type some shit, copy paste some pix / music and as you can see, I can barely find the time to do that. So I think we've established that chicks like Kathleen Hanna who put together the Bikini Kill zine were wayyy baddass.

I must tell you that IF YOU HAVE NOT READ THE RIOT GRRL MANIFESTO you are simply missing out on a key part of Crystal Precious.

Go ahead, read it. If you've read it, read it again. I'll wait for you.

...waiting....

Yay! Good job. Now imagine 'lil ol' me... always that the chick wanting to talk about music, obsess over music, listen to music, wanting to be in a band, go to every rave ever, dance to music, make music... and really not seeing too many other girls doing that. Especially in my high school. Like, none. Just dudes giving me weird looks and telling me I was fun to party with and that I should wear skirts more. Uhhh....

Don't forget we weren't all connected by a click of the mouse back then. If you lived in the middle of the Prairies, you had access to cable TV, select mags, music and that was it. Anything else you had to dig for. I think I was 16 or 17 before we had dial up, I didn't even have an e-mail address until I graduated from highschool. So reading this in print was the first time I'd ever heard anyone ever say anything like this, much less write it in a tangible form, and I knew as I was reading it it had been mailed out to thousands of other girls (I mean grrlz) just like me. It was kind of a big deal. It made things seem possible. It changed my life.

Of course I'm not the kind of person to follow someone else's mantra to the letter, and these days I'm thinking about this in the context of whole new category of underground performance art / community building. I also have much more complicated thoughts about capitalism and about how our general economic structure affects the way we relate to one another, and how women, especially women with high media profiles, fit into that. But aside from those mental amendments I don't think these manifesto words have ever left me. The truths and hopes and resolves they instilled in my little teenage heart are as clear to me as on the first day they settled there. I am forever grateful to them and to Ms Hanna for making me feel like I wasn't the only grrl on the planet. It made me excited to meet new grrlz and maybe team up with them and maybe... make some music.

Sooo first thing's first... I started skipping highschool a lot (best decision of my life, seriously) and found some theatre / music kids to hang out with, some of whom I'd met through the raves and inner city house parties. Hanging out with like-mindeds made me feel a little braver. Consequently I started my first band at 15 with Steve Ferminiuk on bass, David Gregoire & Mitch Delot on guitars, and a serious metal kid on drums. We were called... wait for it... Sodom & Gamorrah. Severe right? My dad thought we were super annoying. Lots of screaming and leather. It was perfect. Mostly originals, we had songs called "Cancer" and "Mrs. Alexander". We also did a few covers... "Long Snake Moan" from PJ Harvey's To Bring You My Love album, for example. Not gonna lie, I'm simultaneously relieved and saddened that no evidence remains of good ol' Sodom. This was obviously before Pro-Tools and Logic or even the common ownership of laptops. We played our debut show in the basement of a bingo hall near Grant Park Shopping centre (I wonder if that was where I got the idea to put on burlesque shows in halls. Might've been. We got away with murder there). After that it was Ozzy's in the basement of the Osbourne Hotel, the all ages metal bar under the Zoo. Someone there saw me do my thing and later at a party asked if I would try out for the band that would ultimately became Moses Mayes (it was called Supershagg then). I was 16. They liked me. Yeah both bands were pretty much all dudes, but still. It was Winnipeg and I had a band. And they let me do what I wanted, for the most part, I wrote all my own vox and lyrics. And so CP took her first wee steps.

Lately I'm finding I'm kind of scratching my head again. It's like, oh shit, Oprah quit... phewf, we still have Tina Fey. But its weird because I've spent a lot of time figuring out how to NOT be pissed off about sexism in my industry (and yes, many pills of ecstasy were consumed during this period.... works great, try it out). My conclusion is that I think some people are taking advantage of the irony card now. Like, there is so much un-PC satirical humour out there now that some assholes are relying on the assumption that people will just trust that they are joking when actually they aren't... they are just being really sexist. And the fact remains that mainstream media is still what SUPER impressionable 12, 13, 14 year-olds are seeing, regardless as to whether they will ultimately find solace in some alternative sub culture... or whether they will even want to. And while I have to laugh at blatant sexism when it's just absurdly offensive and therefore impressive in its uncensored glory, I don't want to be doing that as often as I am lately. Like, still not really laughing at the c-rap hip-pop music videos. They're not even trying to be ironic. Like really???? STILL?????? I wrote my rebuttle to that like 9 years ago. Big surprise that I'm kind of narrowing my eyes a bit and writing rhymes that feel like they belong in a Sodom and Gamorrah song.

Was this happening the whole time I was at the rave? How come the gays have like 9 channels now and we're still oiled up doing crotch moves in the Akon video 80 times a day?

I really love posting this Cazwell video because my good friend Isaac said something I think is probably really true about it... straight guys watch this very video and feel the same way that we feel every time we see a video-ho video. Try it. It's an indescribable feeling... not all bad, but definately unsettling. One difference though is that the dude in this vid has the distinct advantage of obviously being the one in charge here. In the flip version the females wouldn't be in charge and would be sitting on everyone's laps. Also I can't embed this vid from YouTube because its flagged as adult content. Think it'd be flagged if it was chicks? Fuck naww... you'd be watching it at 9:30 in the morning on MuchMusic while you eat your Wheaties and get ready for school. Just calmly pointing that out. NBD.

Again, it's CAZWELL'S ICE CREAM TRUCK. Just try it out. Now imagine having to see this sort of thing EVERY DAY OF YOUR LIFE EVER, often SEVERAL TIMES A DAY. See why it starts to fucking piss us off after awhile?

In other news, I totally need some ice cream now that is completely unrelated to this video. I swear.

big love and grrrrrrrrl growlz
xoxo
CP

PS: If you are in Vancouver this Friday and you are not on the giant steampunk pirate ship party cruising around the city as the sun sets, I seriously question your judgement. LIKE SERIOUSLY. This will be epic beyond all things conceivable. Boarding starts at 7pm, we set sail at 8pm. 750 Pacific Blvd. MAKE IT HAPPEN.

The Crystal Precious Bitch Grrl Guide to Voting

Whattup,


So whatever, apparently the Canadian government is putting ELECTIONS in the middle of my sooooper busy schedule. HELLOOOOOOO, this is supposed to be the most joyful time of year (aka the Burlesque Festival). G-strings are snapping, heels are clicking, Dress-Sew is cha-chinging and my giddy hand-clapping / air-humping speeds are increasing with staggering velocity. Obviously it's like SO distracting to have to see Stephen Harper's SUPER unsassy face like 80 times a day and hear about his evil plans to destroy everything that I hold near and dear (i.e. art, trees, gays & abortions, so you know, basicially shit I need to live). SO FUCKING INCONVENIENT.


I guess this means that even though I'm totally swamped with UBER-important duties like making undies shaped like pie, smuggling crystal-encrusted toilets over the border and talking to the press about bloodwrestling, at some point I'll need to put down the glue gun, go to an offensively colour-schemed gymnasium and put a check next to someone's fucking name so that the Harper government doesn't futher impede my ultimate life's work of being really, REALLY fucking fabulous. Sigh.


I figured that if you're anything like me (i.e. barely dressed and sort of drunk most of the time), you'll probably also find this idea somewhat unappealing. So I've come up with a step-by-step program designed to help alleviate any questions, efforts and general distaste around this whole "voting" business so that you can just get 'er done and get back at it. After all, exercising our democratic right doesn't have to suck THAT much. Right?


I give you:

The Crystal Precious Bitch Grrl Guide to Voting - By Crystal Precious


Step 1 - Ignore all election propaganda EXCEPT MINE.

Moooo hahahahahah. Ok really though, I know this is a ballsy-ass bitch thing to say, but uhhh... we have met right? I mean, you can read and research all that shit if you want to, but unless you like feeling overwhelmed, infuriated, bored and FRUSTRATED by all the biased-anyway shit on the internet and in the press, lemme tell you a secret: for THIS ELECTION, plain and simple, it's all about bringing Harper down. Dude is prety much living in the stone-age... he's the ultimate homophobic arts-raping capatilist war-mongering douche nozzle. He nose is so far up Bush's ass that you know he's about to start building pipes from the tar sands right into Washington's frickin' helicopter gas tanks. DO NOT TRUST THE BEEDY EYES. Case in point: anyone who needs to take pictures of himself with a kitten to prove he's not evil has "OVERCOMPENSATION" screaming from every pore. You just can't argue with me on that one.


Now beyond my dramatic psycho-hose-beast rant insults (soooo satisfying), this sums it up: just because I like wearing DRESSES from the 50's doesn't mean I feel like RE-defending our right to choose, working for equal pay or eating pussy if I feel like it, UMMMMMMMkayyyy??? I'm too busy. MMmmffffmurgle.



Step 2 - Figure Out Who To Vote For by going to http://www.projectdemocracy.ca/ and typing in your postal code.


It might seem sketchy to blindly follow the advise of this site, but it's pretty legit. If this were any other year I would encourage you to "educate yourself, make your own decisions, really get in touch with how you feel, blah blah blah", but honestly, because of the support the Conservative (Harper) govenment has with religious and brainwashed old-school voters, voting for the candidate you actually believe might actually not be helpful this time around. The need is to defeat the Conservatives / "Tories" in enough ridings to prevent Harper's evil minions from getting the most seats in parliament and therefore being able to dominate the vote on every bloody decision with smug little smiles from hell. Sometimes that means voting for some asshole you probably wouldn't have. Fine. If I can tolerate Sarah Michelle Gellar as Buffy for seven fucking seasons, I'm pretty sure I can vote for a Liberal if I have to. Luckily I live in a riding where an NDP win is pretty much guaranteed so I don't have to. But I would. PS: Faith = so hot.


Step 3 - Grab your ID


... if you can find the pants you were wearing on Tuesday when you last went out drinking, which I can't but whatever. You can also grab some mail with your address on it, or your health card and someone with ID who is willing to swear you live where you live. Either one works.


Despite what you may have heard, it's SO RIDICULOUSLY easy to register and vote. It's wayyyyyy easier than other annoying things, like, say, flagging down a server at Foundation, ordering a fancy coffee when you're stoned (SO HARD) or convincing the Fido assholes that it's NOT FUCKING WATER DAMAGE. You can register at exactly the same place and time of voting right before, or online.


Just click on the damn link:

http://www.elections.ca/content.aspx?section=vot&dir=faq&document=faqvoting&lang=e#a1


It tells you what you need as far as ID (tons of options, I'm sure you have one of them), where to go and when. It's very easy and clear. Even my mom could do it and she generally has a panic attack about anything related to computers or the internet. Sorry Mom. You're getting better. I love you.


Step 4 - Make a plan as to WHEN YOU ARE GOING to vote. Enlist partners in crime who will shame you to follow through.


This way you have someone to help you get your shit together on the day of in case you get really busy being hungover or (shudder) working. I find that it's helpful to promise yourself rewards and or / fun activities to do do afterwards with your voting friends, i.e. Tristan and I are going to vote together & then we are going to Ghetto Mall to look at new fun hooker shoes (yayyy!!!). TRY not to plan the time you are voting near the last minute, because inevitably you will get distracted by the delivery guy or the end of True Blood or the seductively growing comments list on your recent status update (that FB shit is evil, I swear these fuckers are trying to get us to miss our whole damn lives).


Step 5 - Vote damn you.

Once in the afore-mentioned ghastly school gymnasium, just keep your eyes on the prize. Ignore all the muggles who are muttering under their breath at you. They're just jealous of your outfits. They can't actually smell the whiskey on your breath or see the glitter from last night's show still smeared on your eyes, TRUST ME. And if anyone gets too close, just yell "YAY CANUCKS!" (apparently that's some hockey team... it will distract them and make them like you, at least long enough for you check the right box and shove your ballot in the slot thing).



Step 6 - Feel great about being PATRIOTIC and laugh maniacally when Stephen Harper FAILS to OPPRESS US

I recommend a deep, deep belly laugh beginning with MOOOOO HAHAHHAHAAHHAHhahahahaha. Honestly though, I mean, really. You can't chuck a glowstick without hitting a burlesque dancer or a raver in the face these days, right? IF WE ALL VOTE, there's no reason that fucker can't get put right back into MINORITY seating and stay away from our gahdamn right to be the suuuuuuuuper fabulous queer lovin' birth-controlled arts-loving stripping sasspots we are deep, deep down inside. SO DO IT. Or I will have sadface, and that's not attractive.


I love you all. See you at the polls.


kittens n' kix

xxoo

CP


This is how showgrrrlz feel about you Stephen.. so stop getting your face in the way of our high heels and LET. THE. KITTEN. GO.

RIP ElizabethTaylor - You showed us how Diva was done.

I always particularly admired Elizabeth Taylor. When I went through my initial classic movie obsession (circa 1999, to be heavily revisited again in 2004), I seriuosly nerded out on countless library books about all the golden era sirens... and her stories were generally far more interesting than anyone else's. Perhaps because girlfriend was always in charge. There was no helpless damsel in Elizabeth Taylor. No preyed upon starlet who couldn't wait to meet the approval of a dubiously intentioned studio head. No "au naturel" bullshit anti-glam girl-next-door marketing angle. She was a straight up megastar, and one who actually accepted and understood the extent of her potential and power. I think this is rare. I also think that this is what made her such a strong voice... one that was actually heard.

Of course the flipside of this is that it also made her a D-I-V-A. The tortured love affairs, the candid responses to controversial headlines, the insistance that the breakfast table be dressed to match her outfits everyday while shooting... but she knew her worth. Enter celebrity branding. She was the OG!!! Think about it. You basically aren't famous now unless you have a perfume. Even frickin'AKON has a bloody perfume. Not so dumb that Lizzy... cuz if there's one thing that keeps selling long after the hits fade away, it's a smell that people associate as "theirs". Hey, I bet it's what'll keep Britney in Doritos... cuz I'm not sure if the music thing is really working out for her lately.

But I digress. Liz was an innovator. I perhaps admire her most for her work in Suddenly, Last Summer, a controversial film that is close to my own heart both for its anti-homophobia subtext and its out-and-out protest against the use of nerve-damaging treatments for psychiatric conditions. At the time these topics were of the greatest taboo and I applaud her for her fearless portrayal that defied the censors.. her incinuations gave them no grounds to cut out even the most obvious of dual meanings from Tenessee Williams' brilliant script. I really can't tell you how much I enjoyed that picture. I watched it early one Winnipeg morning, after a long night, at the age of 16. I'll never forget it.

So yeah. Basically Ms. Taylor was a brilliant, passionate and talented performer as well as an innovative business woman who was uncompromising in her political stance, her own artistic vision and her loyalty to her friends. IN THE FRICKIN' 50s!!! An until today. Pretty much the dopest. Oh yeah, and she was a BABE and she enjoyed that shit instead of denying that her babedom had anything to do with the rest of her life. So in other words, Liz Taylor was my hero. Amd those who know me know I don't really plan on getting married.... but I'm pretty sure that if I was the marrying type, I'd probably do it 8 times. Helloooooo...... dresses and flowers and sparkly things? Yeah. Bring it. As she once said "Big girls need big diamonds".

The Toronto Star said today that Elizabeth Taylor was an "accidental feminist". Uhhh... Star peeps....I think you accidentally forgot to replace the word "accidental" with "LEGENDARY".

Huge love to you Ms. Taylor. May the next world be so lucky.

With great & deep respect,
xoxo
CP

Tighter

'Sup!

Long time no blog. Biggest reason? Lotsa shows. And straight-up, I'm a glowy-ass bitch because of 'em, not gonna lie. I can't really say that there's anything I'd rather be doing: fresh staging', a little traveling, striphopping, writing new lyrics, laughing with my homies and geeking out something heavy... especially online, as per usual. What can I say, I'll always be that (digital) zine obsessed grrl. :) Although I have to say I'm pretty sad about the recent deaths of some my faves. Tear. MISSBEHAVE is probably the one I miss the most... FAAACK always such a good read. Click here link to read what I feel is a great article about its demise. I totally feel like that. It's like, hey... I respect all women's choices... but stop getting knocked up and leaving awesome publications, you selfish bitches!! AT least leave the fucking website up. Like, really. I super miss Michelle Baldwin at BUST too. Although those Charlie Sheen cross-stich patterns are pretty cute. BTW, who's dick do I have to suck to get my hands on a hard-copy of that mag in Vancouver? I can't. Find it. Anywhere. Not even Satan's Library (ie Chapters) has it. SUPER weird. I better not find them all under Stephen Harper's fucking bed. Just sayin'.

But yeah, busy month. Headed up to Whistler to unleash some Sweet Soul wrath on the cuteness that was the crowd at the GLC... pretty sure I busted a stomach muscle when Tristan (Little Miss Risk) pulled an ENTIRE string of pearls out of her pussy, dropped them in a glass and poured champagne all over them. Chug, chug, chug. The snowboarder screams were deafening. TOTALLY busted someone trying to steal the glass afterwards too. Always attracting the crazies, that one. Totally nuts, and totally brilliant. She's one of the bestest friends I've ever had.

So when Tris recently busted out her blog chops again (check it HERE, it's amazing), I decided I better get back on the train. I always have lots to write about but at the same time I feel like shit is happening wayyyyyyyyy faster than I can type. Last month I was stoked to get to do 12 shows, including a stint in the arctic for Rendezvous Festival. I laid vox for my first track with Woodhead, practiced the 5 more I have ready for the studio and wrote new lyrics for three more (woohooo!!). And I also juried over 100 submissions for the 6th Annual Vancouver International Burlesque Festival and chaired a bunch of production meetings for it... which by the way is gonna be THE DOPEST EVER. Unfortch some of the changes we're making this year were a little more difficult to put into practice than I was expecting but you do what you have to I guess... I'm including a public statement about that I made last week at the end of this blog. As John Woods of The Wet Spots quoted from Woody Allen immediately following the statement's release: "Part of show business is business. Otherwise they would have called it show show."

But yeah. If you factor in the need to make time for dancing, goofing off, drinking extra tasty cocktails and watching sci-fi movies while gluing crystals to shit... less blog. I guess to be honest I just still always feel like I need to write these huge long FINISHED edited, photo-accented story blogs that take 3 sittings and 8 cups of tea to perfect. What's up with that? Total bullshit. Sometimes I gotta slap myself and remember that I can do whatever the hell I want. What if I did some longer, more complete stories like my usual steez AAAAND ALSO some shorter, more abstract shit more often? More links and videos, random thoughts... pix. Why the fuck not??? One of my bigger goals for this month is to get my full site back up and running so it can have lots of little nooks and crannies to cram with sass. The Sweet Soul Burlesque website is getting an overhaul as well. Gonna be stepping that shit up a notch. Sloughing off excess... tightening things up. Inside and out.

Speaking of tightening, that crazy Tristan bitch is also getting me back into waist training, that peer pressuring little hussy. As a part-time corset fetishist and admitted occasional sub I must say I do quite like the bound-ed-ness, and as far as body-mods go, corset sinching has always appealed to me because it shapes the body without a huge focus on weight loss. And although I've definately been stepping up my fitness game these days, I'm always gonna be a curvy bitch... and corsets just amplify that whole steez. Nothing wrong with that. Since Tristan is actually going so far as to measure and record her progress, I was thinking it might be fun to do my own corset training progress blog alongside hers but like, the way a NOT totally insane person would do it. Because um... that bitch is nuts. 14 hours a day?!! Fuck that shit. Puhlayyyyyyyse.

So yeah, expect to hear about that. Also I gotta say that my affair with bass is more serious than ever. You're gonna hear about it. I so so miss those dark damp days in the basement of Redgate or at Secret Location (both underground Van spots where CP got her rave on when dubstep broke out)... still love discovering the latest mind-shattering 50 foot waves.

I'm really obsessed with Kryptic Minds at the moment. Gonna leave you with one of my favorite tunes by them:

0.2. Kryptic Minds . One Of Us by whisperd33

Oh yeah, and here's the statement for the Burlesque Fest below.

Kisses n' kuffs,
xoxo
CP


(posted March 2nd)

My Esteemed Tassled Colleagues...


I just wanted to say a few things around the intention behind the burlesque festival’s changes this year, namely, the application process, the production cast caps and the reduced number of spots in the showcase.


I understand that this shift is a bit of a shock. For years the Vancouver festival has been extremely inclusive and the application process for VIBF fairly relaxed in comparison to other festivals. I think up until now, this has been totally appropriate and consistent with past years’ primary focus of uniting a very large and very eclectic community. We wanted to help everyone join forces, encourage each other, inspire each other, share ideas, create allies… to acknowledge and bridge each groups’ efforts by sharing one large stage.


I think this has been an enormous success. I mean, OBVIOUSLY there will always be differences, but that’s also kind of the point. Vancouver has an astounding community that is extraordinarily diverse, yet it remains largely connected and supportive. It’s one of the biggest burlesque epicenters in THE WORLD, for eff’s sake. It rules. We know this.


Having said that, at some point I think it’s important to understand that the festival has another purpose, one that I would argue is now actually more important than trying to provide stage time for everyone. Because the truth is that most of us are getting some form of stage time out there at this point, and I mean veterans and newbies alike. Haven’t you noticed the influx of new productions, and regular monthly / weekly nights around the city? It’s insane (and amazing). Straight-up though, I think it’s pretty safe to say that if you put some reasonable effort into getting involved and learning the ropes, I’m pretty sure you can get yourself onto a stage. Which is truly fabulous. Productions and opportunities to get onstage aren’t lacking at all. What we really need to keep all these amazing productions going – and growing - are AUDIENCES.


The festival is a key opportunity to put collective energy into drawing NEW AUDIENCE MEMBERS to burlesque shows… people who have never seen any of us before. Total strangers. New ticket buyers. People who hit one show a year that we hope to turn into regular burlesque-goers. Because the more ticket-buyers to go around, the more shows keep getting to be produced, the more talent gets stage-time for (hopefully) better fees… and not to mention the less competitive we all need to be year-round in terms of promotion. And although our current crowds are so so crucial (and appreciated), I do believe that we need to sustain a genuine interest in burlesque that goes BEYOND our beloved friends, colleagues and current supporters. We need to draw from a bigger well. WE NEED MORE PEOPLE IN THOSE SEATS at every one of the productions in town. I really believe that THIS is what that will keep the scene alive, healthy and growing.


This is why we’re doing the night at the Vogue. It’s not just so we can all perform on a fancy stage. We made that choice because it’s in the MIDDLE of Vancouver’s major entertainment district and will draw major attention from tons of new people. And if we could afford to all three nights there, we would. Hopefully next year, we will be able to.


So think about it for a moment. Say we get a bunch of new people into this festival show (which we hopefully will because the theatre is MASSIVE and costs one billion dollars). These people don’t know us. They don’t care about the politics going on in our scene. They don’t care that so-and-so has been involved for this long or did this favour for so-and-so. They don’t get inside jokes, and they don’t know whether we have an absolutely 100% fair representation of each crew. They aren’t going to appreciate or understand why we would have super long sets of often VERY similar numbers in order to be inclusive to those who applied, and they are not impressed if they see a number that seems under-prepared. None of these things are going to to help us get them into burlesque show seats again. I’m being straight-up here. it’s not. People are picky and broke these days. They need more than that.


What WILL encourage new audiences to check out more shows is because they remember a good variety of quality acts for THE ENTIRE SHOW, feeling genuinely entertained, inspired, surprised and impressed. They want to feel like they got their money’s worth; that it wasn’t too long or repetitive, that preparation went into the pieces, that the vibe was great, the production smooth and that they had a great time. THIS is what will hopefully draw them back consider on a regular basis. Maybe year-round. Maybe to a show starring you.


So now hopefully it is starting to make sense why we are asking people to be specific about which exact numbers they want to do, submitting videos to gauge their capacity for preparation and professionalism, and who exactly they are planning to include with no substitution. Because at same time of tightening things up, we are also still trying to present a cross-section of troupes, performers and performance styles. SO maybe Dancer A & B both submitted amazing fan dances… but we only pick Dancer B because we know for sure that Dancer A is in a group number with her troupe. And so forth.


As for the cast number caps: this is HONESTLY based on safety standards and the need for smooth backstage production. The downstairs dressing rooms at the Rickshaw have been renovated and divided since last year. The Vogue’s dressing rooms are smaller still. These caps were not given to us as an option after last year. It is EXTREMELY unfortunate that this does not allow for the large group numbers as some troupes are accustomed to. I am honestly upset about this. Hopefully next year this can be considered and planned for by everyone. I sincerely apologize that more advance notice could not have been given around this. But that's just how it went down this year.


So. THAT’s the big picture. THAT’s why the focus of the festival is starting to go towards a tighter production AS WELL AS making efforts to represent all corners of the community. It’s about polishing up things up onstage and backstage, presenting a cross-section of our very best work, puffing up our feathers and saying to giant crowds of new people: Hey!!! Guess what? We’re strippers and freaks…. but we have actual entertainment value that's on par with going to the movies, theatre or concerts! Artistic merit! Political relevance even! WE DESERVE YOUR MONEY. Come back and give it to us, year-round, so we can keep doing this. And do it more. And make it better.


My longtime hope is that we all collectively continue to grow, and that we will steadily increase the visibility, representation, and integration of REAL grassroots burlesque groups in the mainstream media and entertainment industry. This I think would make many people very very happy. We need to represent, especially in the wake of so much hype and mis-understanding around what we do these days. And at the end of the day I really hope that for most of us, the burlesque movement isn’t just about each of us getting to dance around on a big stage so we can get clapped at. For me this is wayyyyy bigger than that. We have the power to change the way people look at women (predominantly although men too), at stripping & sexuality, at DIY culture. This is what drives me to do this still after all these years... because I see it happening. And it's astounding.


So yeah. I really hope that people understand that there is a method to the madness under all this. And if you were not selected to perform at an event this year, this DOES NOT MEAN you are not an important part of the community or that you are deliberately being snubbed. It doesn’t. AT ALL. Please try to remember the big picture and that (we hope) it is all part of our eventual WORLD DOMINATION. In banana suits. And ass tassels.


That’s all I wanted to say.


Thanks for reading all this.


With huge love & true respect for each of you,


Xoxo

CP



President, VIBF Board of Directors

Vancouver International Burlesque Festival

A small note about consciousness.

Ummkayy... it just feels wayyyy too fucking trivial to post my Shambhala blog while thousands scream so hard into the desert across the world. Sitting here in my happy little zebra print corner, tucked full of Nature's Path organic oatmeal, listening to carefully plucked pieces of the seventies... trying to decide when I've seen enough through the little magic screen on my lap. Such a precious princess. And everything through the angled window; the access to which I now suddenly notice I've been taking for granted.

I've turned the sub back onto the sound system that used to thump alongside my Ari Gold moments in Dollhouse's pink office. Usually I turn it off at night so the baby upstairs can sleep. Side note: I have this feeling that if I ever have a baby, she'll NEED bass waves to sleep. We'll have to put her across the house from the turntables so they can hit her properly. Dream.



That ol' inner conflict wails around inside me about social consciousness... you know. Hiphop, events, speech, existence. Usually the conflict doesn't get much air time. I start feeling around the darkness and then decide I don't like it. How bout we light it up with glitter and lasers and music instead? Yayyyy. It normally takes me about 5 minutes to reach this decision. Another convenient camouflage of the last little fibers of insecurity I feel around my profession; trying to fit them all into the solution somehow. It's like stuffing a headdress into a parachute bag.

What can I say? I'm a good time girl. A weapon of mass distraction. It's just what I'm best at. Or so voices tell me.

Back to the conflict. See? Distraction. I'm good at it ;) SO how conscious is conscious "enough"? Do I have to strip to stop the war or can I just be entertaining? Is escapism really senseless, or is escapism senseless just in excess?

I would argue the second on both counts. The thing is that when I hit the party, straight-up, I don't want anyone's morals shoved down my throat along with my pill and whiskey shot. I deal with everyone else's opinions all day, my whole life. And really - it's not like when I open my make-up case I suddenly forget that I'm alive.

I think that for me, sometimes I just want to be around people who know there's more to a person than what she presents in a pretty pink blog. That there's more to a person than a measure of one's met expectations. That there's also richness, thought patterns, feelings, contributions, reactions... sensitivity to pain and hunger. You know, like, humanity and stuff. Those basic universal aspects that make us just like everyone, everywhere.

And then I want to catch the eye of someone on the dance floor and acknowledge that the two of us are busy having one of those moments of freedom... physically, mentally, creatively... and that we are so so so so lucky. We are So. Fucking. Lucky.

I am so lucky.

It's not much to know I guess. But I'm conscious of it.

xoxo
CP

Ten Years Later... & the Crystal Precious Fabulous Guide to Being Fabulous. By Crystal Precious.

Woke up rock-star styles this morning at Brotel (affectionate term for house of many bros) surrounded by fun awesome hotties and vinyl. Pretty rad. I actually immediately puked though because I'm SUCH a classy babe. I haven't puked in like, 2 years so you know it was a good night. Cut to me catching myself in the bathroom mirror, full-on still wearing fake lashes and rhinestones and hotpants and these dope Puma wrestling boots that OUT OF NOWHERE showed up at Dollhouse one day and never left. Typical Sunday morning uniform. Time for eggs.

Every once and awhile I realize how much the DH gave me and continues to give me every day of my life. Like, wow. And obviously I don't just mean in ideal footwear... but I'm not discounting those gifts either. Prime example, after two years of watching those wrestling kicks chill in the lost & found... I slipped them on and angels sang from above. I was happier than Cinderfuckingella. I'm such a lucky bitch. It's INSANE. I give thanks. Trust.

OH YEAH, I got to see The Gaff last night and hang out a bit, record collector supreme. Prairie boy after my own heart. Can't deny it, there's something about those funk-lovin' Homebreakin' kids that just gets me right in the heartface. Such sweethearts, and funny as fuck. Woodhead has been killing it lately too, I fucking love that guy. He's actually one of the first people I ever met in Vancouver... almost 10 years ago.

Whoa.

Has it really been 10 years since I moved from the Peg that cold-ass January with my random cardboard boxes and a steamtrunk full of books? Yeah. Why the fuck I thought heavy-ass books would be a good thing to move I don't know. But I was 19. I knew nothing. And you know, on that note I have to say that I'm HELLA stoked to hit the big 3-oh this year. My twenties have been HARD schooling... although I always wanna keep learning, obvsies, or I'd be like, super bored. But the survival stuff, the grindstone, paying the dues, the blood and sweat and tears and anguish of getting through those little voices that say "you can't you can't you CAN'T... you don't deserve it, or you're not ______ enough, or that just doesn't HAPPEN for people, you can't, can't, you can't make it happen.... etc etc etc." THAT was the hardest part. For me getting over that shit was harder than any other aspect of anything, harder than all of the proverbial elbow grease. After you finally kick the shit out those voices it's alllll gravy, like a slip n' slide down a river of rainbows. But it took me a long hard time to squish those little fuckers. Sometimes they still try to make noises but I got good heels on me now. They stay down.

When you think about it my dream (now my life) must have seemed somewhat implausible, I suppose. I mean, I'm a neo-cabaret performer, for eff's sake. I fucking STRIP-HOP for a living. It's my FUCKING JOB to wear neon orange pumps and host parties and toplessly swear about the patriarchy and spin ass tassles and shit. So basically I'm now undeniable next-door neighbour proof that the implausible is still possible. Might not be easy, but it's possible. And wow, has it ever been worth it. I'm proud that I hung in there, although there were some times my doubts started poisoning everything like autotune. I guess at the end of the day sometimes you just gotta turn the radio off... and put your dope friends' music ON.

I'll always have roots here. I'm a BC bitch for life. The West Coast is just where my head and my body and my heart feel the bestest... always... something about nature, I don't know. :) What can I say, I'm a hippie and shit. But lately I'm SO SO SO SO looking forward to getting out there and terrorizing cities far and wide. I just wanna tear a STRIP outta the world, literally. I wanna to see castles and ruins and eat exotic cheeses after shows in old old OLD theatres... I want to hold my hands up to the walls of the OG Moulin Rouge, stretch on pianos like Deitrich and spit rhymes like Dante. I want to drip in Grecian pearls, run my hands over Italian leather and click heels on cobblestone streets. I wanna feel bass in different hemispheres. I want to spread my sass wider than legs on Sunday morning. And then I wanna come home and dive into the ocean and wash it all off in the studio. And dance. And dance. And dance.

ADVENTURE TOWN, darlings. I'mma run for mayor. True story.

These new tracks are the first step I think... lovin' em. There's some really interesting (and surprising) words coming out of me right now and I'm just sitting back and tyring not to get in my own way. The imagery comes next, twisting up some hard-core future pin-up shit. After that I gotta figure out the live show, still obviously working with the Sweet Soul grrls as well. The music is working more and more into the hosting aspects of the burlesque shows and that's dope. It's all fitting together. So it may be some group jaunts, but also the flexibility of doing some solo missions here and there as well. Might be nice to just bust a move with a good technically skilled DJ and hit clubs on a sprawl, like a East Coast leg or a Cali trip. Two turntables and a microphone. Add some tassles. Boom. Done.

So yeah. If I'm not blogging as much or being as out on the town it's cuz I'm scheming happily in the sass cave with a mechanical pencil and a plate of home-made guac. It's all coming out, just in different ways and on my own time... it's good. And personal development is high on the list for me right now. Physical shifts for me as well. I'm training. I'm prepping. I'm making room.

Recently I was re-reading some of my old blog posts (remember MYSPACE, omg, so OVER) and came across this one... thought I'd re-post it cuz I feel that 25 year-old CP was pretty cute. Not gonna lie. I know, SHOCKER.

love love love
LOVE. really though. (love)

xoxo
CP


Crystal Precious' Fabulous Guide to Being Fabulous. By Crystal Precious

'Sup.

SO lately (okay, so maybe not just lately) it has come to my attention that my fabulousness levels are going totally off the chart. Also my delicious narcissism, but I've never denied that (just remember the key, just because I think I'M fabulous doesn't mean that I think you're not, ummkay? I realize that being fabulous doen't mean being a snobby elitist bitch from hell, although playing the part can sometimes be fun if done so with proper amounts of satirical irony, But you all know this already).

ANYWAY, in due accordance to rule number 12 in my 12-Step Guide to Being Fabulous, I've felt passionately compelled to compile the following tidbits for anyone that wonders, "How DOES Crystal end up being so fabulous ALL the TIME? GOD It must be hard." Well, actually, no. No it's not.

Welcome to

CRYSTAL PRECIOUS' FABULOUS 12 STEP GUIDE to BEING FABULOUS

by CRYSTAL PRECIOUS.

1. Say the word ..Fabulous.. as much as humanly possible. Say it at home, at work, in dinner, in bed.. say it so much that your friends make up drinking games where they have to take a drink every time you say it.

2. Make sure that your friends are complete lushes. It's best if your friends have dedicated nights for being a lush (for example, Cara Milk has a "Lush Night" every Thursday at the Sweet Soul Designs studio where her employees are enjoy manditory cocktails or red wine. FABULOUS).

3. When arriving at a party, immediately peruse the floor for cheese platters and upon finding one, park your bag / purse nearby. This reminds you to go back for more cheese in case you accidentally get drunk.. you think to yourself, "Where's my purse, is my purse okay.. oh! I forgot about the cheese!" Very convenient.

4. Always wear clothing that is border-line too small for you. If you accidentally shrink something or gain a few extra pounds, throw on an extra special garter and WEAR THAT FUCKER ANYWAY.

5. Try to encourage your extremely good looking or interesting friends to be in a constant state of undress. Examples: Throw underwear/lingerie parties, produce burlesque shows, make your apartment a pants-free zone, and make out with as many of them as possible. Trust me, it just seems to make everything better.

6. Always have at least 8 HAG-fags around to tell you how fabulous you are. It's best if at least three of them live in your apartment building or neighborhood. They should be well-dressed, well-spoken and have all of the Madonna DVDs that you don't own so you can borrow them. If they protest at being called HAG-fags, tell them to deal. Nobody ever asked YOU if YOU liked being called a hag. And they've been calling you that since like, the nineties. Ummmkay? Mwah! Deal.

7. Have a fabulous roommate that's a talented artist/designer/intellect who enjoys cooking delicious exotic dinners and purchasing good quality wines. This comes in handy when spending time being fabulous at home. It's also good if they happen to own leopard print chaise lounges. That's definitely a plus.

8. This one is important. NEVER wear lipstick that transfers on anything. I firmly believe that lipstick belongs on lips and that's where it should stay.. none of this wine-glass-joint-passing-collar-rubbing smear festival. We live in the scientific age, people! We deserve lipstick that's 100% cock and sandwich proof. Get a forever-lasting lipstick (the MAC one is shit, I warn you. Surprising, I know, since all their other products RULE. But their long lasting lipstick you can never get it off and it makes your lips all dry and flakey. Get the Revlon one. Colorstay Overtime in Forever Scarlet, aka my near-constant hue). IF you are one of those sensitive skin types and you simply can't deal, blot it up or wear something sheer. This allows us to wear lipstick at all times, i.e. to brunch, getting coffee.. I've even worn lipstick while camping and occasionally, while having bubble baths (I am so dead serious, you can ask my mom even). Whatever, just make sure it doesn't get everywhere. It is FO.. SHIZZLE a necessity of fabulousness, I feel.

9. MAKE SURE to have updated photos of yourself close at hand. Remember .. glossy 8 by 10's make excellent Christmas gifts! What better way to congratulate your fabulous friends on having such good taste by offering a hot sassy pic of yourself to grace their walls?

10. DON'T pay any attention to anyone that accuses you of being superficial, un-PC, trivial, blah blah blah. Remember: you are intelligent, aware of current events, have a deeply rooted sense of responsibility to planet earth and all of its inhabitants, and acknowledge that things like high heels were at some point rooted in patriarchy, they're uncomfortable, yadda yadda. It's just that you happen to like high heels. Because they're fabulous. And you understand that it is your absolute RESPONSIBILITY to indulge in things you truly adore, whether that adoration is a product of skewed socialization or not. Because you're fabulous. (By the way, you should not, by any means, feel the need to defend yourself to any critics.. you're too busy. Being fabulous.)

11. Try to avoid polar fleece. I'm sorry, but polar fleece, while temptingly comfortable, is just not fabulous. I have to admit I myself have broken this rule once .. but the item also had fun fur and zebra stripes, so I figured it didn't count.

12. Smile genuinely a lot. This is easier to do when you are happy, excited or stoned, so put yourself in these situations as often as possible, or any others that trigger the reaction of knowing how fabulous you are. See, it's all a big happy circle. OF FABULOUSNESS

There is also a bunch of other shit I haven't covered, like training cabana boyz, NEVER feeling guilty about eating and drinking whatever you want, having sex whenever you want with people that fit your fabulousness standards, and all of that.. but I kind of feel that that shiz is a given and it would be like, embarrassing to have to actually WRITE it. Um, yeah.

ABOVE all, remember the law of numbers! It's WAY easier to be fabulous when you..re surrounded by fabulousness. I speak from experience. So please, encourage your friends to indulge in being fabulous.. It's SUPER underrated.

Except by me.

kiss kiss
xo
CP

Summer Of Sass: Part 2 - JULY - BASSCOAST

So the problem with setting yourself up to write about something so precious and then leading up to it with MAD, SHAMELESS hype is that inevitably you get slammed with a champion-shized helping of un-ignorable shit-to-do. This blog entry got totally sidelined into a corner to hang out with the package I said I'd send to my mom like, 8 years ago and that giant pile of costumes-to-be... one day I'll learn how to sew, I swear to fucking god. Also I'll learn to keep my hot pink mouth shut about what I'll be posting about before I can actually make time for it. Although you know me. I like to open that pink mouth of mine. Heh heh.

You know what? Fuck it. Boring shit like invoicing can wait a sec. Here goes.

BassCoastProject - The Sequel was easily the best festival of the year for me, and quite possibly the best festival I've ever been to. OH SHEEEEET... yes I DID say that. I'm not joking either. There's a magic about these three BassCoast ladies that draws you in like 80s Jack Nicholson. They got this game locked down. Pay attention to their shit.

First and foremost - the setting, no compromises. And trust me, putting on a party in Squamish Valley is not easy; there's some grumpy old people there who like their peace and QUIET, ummmkay?? These bitches managed to make it happen anyway. Now, blah blah, you know I'm from Winnipeg and you're probably ready for the same old crap about how mountains and NON-brown rivers (gasp!) and trees and pro hockey teams and everything are a really big deal to me. GUESS WHAT. Doesn't matter if you grew up on Paradise Fuckin' Island... Squamish is just straight-up jaw-droppingly spectacular. It's pretty much the prettiest place on earth. Period. The end.

Now imagine a time when temperatures were high, sunshine was rampant, booze was flowing and clothing coverage levels everywhere were really really small. Sigh. Summer. The Squamish valley lays before you like a waiting lover. A fresh, crisp river of sass flows softly along the bottom of your frame of vision and pools into a soft sandy bank, where you dip and swim and grill your bronzed backside at perfect leisure.

Now picture there's an ideally raised sandbar sticking out of the river in your visions' forefront, and that several very attractive half-naked people have lugged eight thousand party-enhancing items onto it. There they sprawl, blissed out with the deep pleasures of simply existing on the West Coast, waiting for you to come share a laugh or two. Welcome to Party Island.

You feeling me yet? GORGEOUS mountain peeks kissing blue blue sky all blanketed in rich lush greenery spreading out as far as you can see... and in front of it some suuuuuper hot guy is running up and jumping on a skimboard to shred a spray of liquid sunlight up into your horizon. You giggle because after catching your breath to take him all in, you realize he's doing it kinda sideways... and you wonder if maybe he just did just a little bump of ketamine. Oooo those boys.... aaand BAIL. Yeah probably. Heh heh heh.

You turn to see a couple cute topless girls swaying their hips in time to the deep n' delicious bass waves hitting the water from the stage. Looking back you comtemplate going to dance... but then you see little blooms of cracked CDs lining the trees like sparkly flowers and decide maybe you feel like exploring instead. Perhaps a meander back to camp to make yourself a beverage. Grab that hash n' tobacco number you rolled earlier. A re-up, if you will.

Pathways take you from the Moroccan hooka tent to a massive hand-crafted pirate ship floating shredded sails high above sets of stacks; you carefully move through the crowd towards the splintered star burst platform and then up the spiraling forest trails to different camps all filled with friendly, intelligent, hot-looking people that you just seem to know. And they're all doing SUPER FUN stuff. Everywhere. All the time.

So in case you're just tuning in, BassCoast was DOPE DOPE DOPE. Such rad cross-representation from different crews along the coast... Van. Sunshine Coast. Squamption. Whistler. Pemberton. Cali. Portland. Good repping from the close Calgary crews as well. Different than Shambhala (which of course has its own qualities altogether which I'll get into in my next blog)... but BassCoast just had this inclusive intimacy and attention to detail; a specific and tangible magic.

I can't stress enough how STOKED I was that they really focused on local talent. FINALLY I felt like these women putting the show on understood that uh, actually, the people making music here are WORLD-FUCKING-CLASS and that we should maybe take a sec to honour that and fucking enjoy it instead of spending every ounce of hype, money and energy on giant headliners all the time. Think about it for a second. Mat the Alien? Puhlayse. KING. Vinyl Richie? Legend. And I mean, when was the last time Max Ulis DIDN'T show up a headliner he opened for? Uhhh, fucked if I can remember. Daega or Self Evidents tunes mad me grind lower than anything I've ever heard before. I've always said that this burly-q girl learned to bump in the moshpits... but it was DEFINATELY deep bass music that taught me my grind.

Adam Shaikh? Win. Neighbour? Genius. LongWalkShortDock? Don't even get me started. ALL TOGETHER??? Come ON. And I haven't even mentioned the Calgarians or the Kootenay crews or the Whistler kids or the Cali fam yet. Unbelievable. For real. There's so many names I wanna drop that I'm just gonna post the whole frickin' line-up again cuz it was BRILLIANT - and guess the fuck what - almost entirely LOCAL.



Honestly, sometimes I wonder if it's even truly conceivable to me how much awesomeness is squirting us right in the face over here. I gotta give the BassCoast girls mad props because they NAILED that. Especially because the music is super diverse and not everyone gets the dubstep thing.. and not everyone is open to the 4/4 thing, in response. I think it's hilarious because I am passionate about all of it and I get to hear all sides... then I just wanna go dance. But I think the girls are still working with that and trying to finetune the line-up and the back and forth between the stages so it works ideally and is smooth.


I'm also super happy about how it wasn't all about DJ glorification, because I'm kind of bored of that. I mean I LOVE music obvs, and hot DJs, TOTES obvs, but here the stages were works of art in their own right and the forest was super beaming with awesomeness from all kinds of contributors and mediums.. everything from what people were wearing to how they were moving... live painting, Mcing, a live band here and there... covered.

And then there's the vibe. I don't know about you, but if I'm gonna go to the trouble and the expense and the energy to go to an event like that, at least for me, there's some stuff that "I wanna". Insert pouty princess face here (just kidding). But for real. For it to be a quality escapism experience for me that truly refreshes and resets my sass levels, a couple things need to go down in my head.

First, I wanna feel excited about interacting with the people there.

Second, I wanna feel like there’s shit to explore, places to discover, settings to peak my curiosity, inspire me, make me feel like I'm are in a different world than the one I experience every day.

Third, I wanna feel like at some point, I can let go. I wanna just be happy to be alive. I wanna feel like any drama and difficulties and struggles and injustice aside, the world is an unfathomably wondrous place and that there is so much beauty around me that I can’t believe I get to experience what life has to offer on a daily basis. You know, that feeling you try to make stick.

Aside from that, I wanna feel a sense of unity with the people around me. Like I'm a part of something bigger, like I'm are among people that understand and accept and forgive me for all the things about myself that I'm not quite sure fit into "the real world" I was born into.

And then I wanna be provoked to contribute to this sense of sanctity; to trust that if the people I'm so close to can share the things that come out of them, I can too. Even if I'm just getting started, or evolving, or attempting, or whatever. You know?

Yeah yeah, surprise surprise, I’m a big fucking hippie raver. Whattya know. (Don't die of shock, just settle down now). But believe me when I say that I'm being 100% genuine. Now imagine for a sec what a tall order it is for ALL of those things to happen at a party, and now imagine how rad it must have been that I actually felt all of those things go down in my heart.

Right?

K I'm just gonna do one more thing and go ahead and give a few sentences worth of props to Michael Red's sunrise set on Monday morning. Ask anyone who was there - it was thick magic. Just the vibe confirmed to everyone this sense that, well, uh, us here arty kids... we actually make up a real COMMUNITY, not just a scene. And it just seemed so perfect to look around at everyone so elated and blissed out on each other and being together. I'm serious though! Please don't barf. It was awesome. We all swayed around with giant Chesire grins on our faces while the sun started to kiss the earth and one of Vancouver's most respected future-music pioneers carefully squeezed little hearts out of the speakers.

I'd just never felt SO INSPIRED to go home and CREATE after a festival. My good friend Dano and I drove the whole way home in silence, all dreamy-like... ACHING to get home to write... him music, me words... and we both agreed that Bass Coast was IT. The highlight. The future. What's it that Kelsey Faery calls it? The JUICE.

Anyway. I wanted to give huge propz to these women who somehow made that festival happen for me and for so many of the people I love. I really respect them. And I know what they do isn't easy... it goes wayyyy beyond the obvious tasks of decorating a tent or booking a headliner. It means canvassing for unobtainable permits, coming up with non-existant money, becoming a politician to your colleagues and (occasionally) a warden to your friends (never fun).

It also means keeping the flame burning bright even when it's cold and raining and yucky out and maybe last weekend someone set fire to your stage by accident (which barely affected the party because everyone was having such a great time anyway, but still). FOR THE LOVE OF SASS, I'm here to say... keep that fire going ladies. I think I can speak for many when I say that we fucking love you and appreciate what you do so so SO much. Thank you for being the glue that bring us together. It's so so SO of the rad. High sass ups. Foreves.

Speaking of burning. My friend Karlis, who, btw, incurred about $800 in traffic fines to drive his self-built mobile-sauna up to the BassCoast festival this summer (love him... but man do those BC police sure do need a sense of humour), was telling me that one of the things that bothers him a bit about the Burning Man community is that all too often, some of most creative, inspiring and rad people he knows are suddenly putting all their free time and resources into the Playa instead of bringing that same fire into their everyday universes. As someone who has yet to venture to Black Rock City and who thinks often of many beloved peeps who will most likely never go... I'm REALLY grateful for projects that are bringing magic to everything around them all the time. It's the dopeness.

Okay here's some pix:

A sic shot of the valley:


Big love to my ever-loving domestic/platonic husband Shamik for always getting great shots and bringin' em home:



Nothing but hot sass in one direction...



...and the other...





Tank Girl (see Female Action Hero of the Mother Flippin' Moment, right of blog text) playing at sun-down.



here's one of the Librarian from the back..



and here's one of the BassCoast stage from the front (at least this is what the stage was looking like to most people at this point, heh heh heh)



Here's one of me rapping at the Pirate Ship stage..



...it was super gorgeous, a true Pirate collab (I think Kelsey at the helm). Chili Thom and Ace (Foxy Moron) killing it 45's style all Sunday morning.



Shamik & I chilling over coffees Sunday after K-Tel's Sunday Sermon before jamming a bit onstage:



Me lounging with the Bitchin' ladies (where the crap have THEY been all my life) and Kristi, who regularly gives people sick boners. Party island is starting to happen there in the background..



Who's that in the water? This shot got caught by Eradik...



Me dipping my bitz in the river & schnapped by Brian Keith...




The sun over the flag... sigh. L'amour.




Click here to see ome AMAZING shots by Rebecca Danielson, who's SUPER talented... just click through to her Flickr set. I really like these shots, they are amazeballs.


See if that warms y'up for a minute like so many homemade perogies.

;)
MWAH
xoxo
CP