Mame's House

Chutah took me to a small town hippie artist commune last week. She takes me to the best places. It was very interesting; a group of artists living together and sharing a house. Then they vote someone off. Just kidding. They saw a lack in their community, and decided to bridge the gap by hosting a get-together every week.

Their description of the night’s upcoming events reminded me of the zaniness of Auntie Mame. They do art related stuff when they get together, but usually nothing structured. If someone wants to play music they do so (and I think they had enough guitars to cover everyone if it was a sing-a-long), or they might paint, or do a craft, or even cook if the mood takes them. Mame would have fit in well. They were incredibly gracious and welcoming people, sharing their work with us, and inviting us to participate in everything from the projects to the drinking and making of quesadillas.

I didn’t feel my usual nervousness with them; I was there for business, so business mode was on. But there were actors there. Talking to them was like getting to speak your native language in a foreign country. Oddly, not many women talked to me. I don’t know what that means.

Everyone was excited about one guy coming to the gathering, and it seemed everyone made a point to tell us about him and how they didn’t think he could make it. He did make it. This may not seem especially crucial, but the thing was, when he came in the door, I could tell why he was so important to the group. After talking to him for about 30 seconds, I felt a connection. I wanted to talk to him more. It was so strange. I can’t remember the last time I was that interested in someone upon the first meeting. He wasn’t really remarkable in any way, but somehow, he was the most interesting person there.

We were invited back, and with our new project, we’re probably going to be spending some time with them over the next few months. I think I need to go back for art night at the hippie commune; I need to speak my native language.