bread & puppet, part 1.

this mornin',
we headed to glover, vermont.
the bread and puppet theater farm and performance centers are located in the woods there.
and they are awesome.
really awesome.
holly, and jim came with,
and of course my small ones, too....
(btw, after my exclamations of dry skies, it rained for a while yesterday, and today too....)

we visited the barn/museum,
it has thousands of puppets in it,
and is perpetually being built up, improved, repaired, patched and mended.
the pupets AND the barn.
ya'll can visit the museum anytime, and you really should.
Folk Life, my ninjas.
they gets it in......


BREAD and puppet, ya'll.
here's the main oven, also known as the bread house.
there're a LOT of small ovens all over the acres and acres of property,
but this big 'un makes all the sourdough rye volkornbrot,
which everybody shares after the circus and the pageant.

i'll say it again:
Folk Life, people.
keep-it-real dudes who just do what they do.
enviable simplicity,
an admirable sense of clear purpose,
hard-working harmonious productivity,
and hairy armpits.
kinda sh!t the bed on the last one,
but overall the feel of the folksy life-livin' flavor is fresh-to-death.
vermont has a real 'community' feeling to the land and the towns.
over our way, here in new hampshire,
we keep it a little more live free (and alone) or die. hard.
it makes for a more adversarial interaction with the spaces between yourself and others.
a five-foot forcefield of fury.
personal space as private property.
i'm looking at my arm's reach as the borders of the berserker barbarian badlands.
generosity and gratitude are the laws of the land, too.
competent communication, and the keepin' it real/rural factor in too.
BUT,
i'm calling for open border crossings with all my battle bards and warrior poets,
a nationwide network of sovereign cells,
acting, reacting, overacting, overreacting, interacting.
life worth living free.
but not alone.
word.


this is how we have fun in the woods, yo.
underwear-hat parties,
and deck-dancing disco delights.


glover, vermont.
mushrooms.
my peoples.
folk art, folk music, and folk lore:
never quiet, never soft......
(to be continued)