 She called me “Silly” A complete stranger called me silly last week. To be precise, she said my work made me look silly. Her comment didn’t come unprovoked. My hometown celebrates a couple made-up holidays the first week of April. On the first Sunday, it’s FestiFools, a parade of large hand-made puppets made by children, art students and the general hoi polloi. On the Friday night before, a similar gathering happens after night fall, a gathering of luminaries, glow in the dark costumes and laser projections, etc. On a normal year, leading up to FoolMoon there are workshops where experts guide the process of wire armature and delicate colored tissue paper. On a normal year, there is dancing in the streets. Even on a normal year, most of the town doesn’t quite “get it” …and those that do have a BLAST. I’ve made puppets and luminaries for many FestiFools and FoolMoons. I made a 10 foot tall Jack in the Beanstalk that I carried through a rainstorm while my companion handed out packages of pole bean seeds. Another year, I danced around a 4 foot tall glowing frog with my tadpole-toting dance partner. Other years there were a huge luminous slice of blueberry pie and a ghostly half winged horse/half woman nightmare. In other words, we don’t just attend, we ARE fools for Festifools and FoolMoon. It’s a long standing date. Things changed for COVID, of course. Last year both festivals were canceled and this year, FoolMoon came back, dim and pale. I made headpieces for my partner and myself. Hers was an astronaut helmet with blue and green lights and I was a bright orange moon. More or less. I was rushed, perhaps. Much of the Moon was crafted on the day of the event and an hour before sunset, neither piece lit up properly. By sunset, though, they were good enough. We donned matching face masks, slipped on our headpieces and set out to see what a socially-distanced folk festival would be like. There were crowds in town, mostly-masked folks eating and drinking at the outdoor restaurants. As the graffiti says we have no problem with tents on the sidewalks as long as there are no poor people inside them. VERY few folks carried glowing any-things, even in the areas designated for us fools. We were stopped by numerous people who asked what the heck we were doing. We enthusiastically told them about FoolMoon. Then as we walked down Fourth Avenue, a woman exited an art gallery and as she walked past us she said clearly “You look silly.” My partner thanked her and I burst out in laughter. I have thought about her comment WAY too much this week. If she had said we looked “Foolish” I would have taken it clearly as a compliment, that she understood what we were doing and that we fit in with the festival. Perhaps that’s what she meant to say and she has been regretting her choice of words all this week as well. It’s just as likely though that this woman lives in a world where being silly is so unacceptable that she has to critique people on the street to stay vigilant against such an outrage. Then again, maybe she meant that the workmanship of these pieces was lacking and I could take that as valuable feedback. These were NOT my best pieces, they were rushed and the lights continued to misbehave throughout the night… and it felt important that we “show up” for this event, that we participate. Her comment arrived at the end of a week where I had done a LOT of soul searching about what it means to be playful. Playful, for me, means being in-the-moment, a generous give-and-take, a series of risks and low-cost failures followed by unexpected gains and successes. I had considered NOT making a costume this year, of pretending to be one of the “citizens.” And I convinced myself to play, and to even try a couple new techniques and to use a couple new materials with a spirit of “Let’s see how this works…” Lennon supposedly criticized a post-Beatle McCartney for writing only silly love songs, which Paul replied by writing the song “Silly Love Songs.” I suppose we DID look silly. And what’s wrong with that? HOW DID YOU RISK BEING SILLY THIS WEEK? Did you experiment, attempt some stunt or play with a new material recently? Did you try something that might not have not worked? If it didn’t work, did you survive? How did you fare? What did you learn? What’s the NEXT project you might go for, even knowing you might end up looking silly? Seriously, I’d like to know how other folks survive being silly. |
| Some previous FoolMoons. I wear that leather top hat to ALL outdoor festivals since I tend to wander off and it makes me easier for my partner to spot me. You will NOT feel silly wearing one! https://americanhatmakers.com/ |
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