MichFest, in a nutshell

Many people have asked me about my experience at Michigan Womyn's Music Festival this year. I anticipated as much, so on my last day there, I wrote this. I hope it sums up my experience - which was pivotal.

written around 8p.m., August. 10 2008

I'm sitting on a straw bale - breathing fresh air that feels just like autumn in DC and I am watching women walk by - close to dusk - on their way to the candlelight closing ceremony of the festival, taking place on the acoustic stage.

I am weary. Profoundly weary. And profoundly full of joy and contentment, feeling safe and whole in my body, deeply rocked within my soul.

I saw women perform acts of magic at this festival. In fact everything happening here is a mystery.

An entire village - 5,000 - created all by the hands of women. Everything from setting up enormous stages, driving tractors and big old 70s busses around to transport festi-goers (as they're affectionately called), a mechanics booth, setting up showers and kitchens, doing all the stage set up, sound and lighting - all women.

Every band, every musical act - all women.
I saw
Ruthie Foster
Betty
Von Iva
Toshi
Bitch and Ferrin
An incredibly broadway-inspired "musical" produced by Betty's bassist, Allison, called "Chicks Licks Flicks," and I saw Erin McKeown, and the almightly Fatu and her women's West African Drum ensemble Jambalaya. I saw a brilliantly funny reading of the vagina monologues directed by Alix Olson, and DC's own Emma's Revolution, and the great folkstress Holly Near.

I've connected with a few women deeply. I've managed to enjoy holding hands, drumming, dancing, hugging, and singing with women with no fear, no drama, just beautiful, pure connection.

I have drummed with Ubaka Hilll, and talked with her, shared so many stories, and taken full advantage of her mentoring, which has cultivated confidence, courage, and strength inside me, along with a deeper passion for my art, and a desire to move forward, with grace.

I have worked - walking everywhere - the equivalent of 5 miles a day I have walked. Loading and unloading drums, teaching, singing.

I have played with serious women in the West African tradition, for a dance class, and through this have been invited by an extraordinary female djembe fola to be part of her next project - which means travel and exposure.

I have been introduced on stage by Ubaka Hill, to hundreds of women, who now know of YWDEP since Ubaka told them I started the organization, and that she was proud to have me as her assistant.

I have received multiple, sincere congratulations and words of appreciation all week long for my playing.

I have had an extraordinary experience assisting deaf women in learning to drum and supporting their participation in the Drumsong Orchestra - a 60-women strong group of drummers who come to work with Ubaka every year and prepare for a final performance on the acoustic stage. And for this performance, I directed a unique version of Yankadi.

I have bathed my face in holy water and cried.

I have been told by an incredible, earth moving goddess dancer of 50 named Queen, that when she hard my drumming, it transported her to Senegal. And by other women that my drumming was healing them.

I have - backstage - chatted with the women of Betty, hung out with Bitch, walked shoulder to shoulder past Amy Ray on the long, wooded path to my tent, and shared a collective midnight meal with artists who left me starstruck. I stood next to Erin McKeown for a whole 30 seconds not knowing what to say...

I have camped. Nothing indoors exists. I have found my way in the dark and slept in the deep woods in a tent for 6 nights. I have averted disasters - a broken blood-testing meter (I'm diabetic type 1 for those who don't know), and rain in my tent.

I have felt love. The love the sisters have for this place and for each other. The love of the work. Each sister must do a scheduled work shift while on the land. That's 5000 women working together.

I've found a new kind of love for the drum. For its belly - it's melody - and it's absolute power to heal - and the healing that exists inside me that allows for that pure energy to come out and light hearts on fire.

To me, in one sentence, I believe the Michigan Womyn's Music Festival is the safest and most free place for women on the entire planet, and the best music festival (= the best MUSIC) I've ever been to.