The Provo Freedom Festival is a big conglomeration of events. It includes contests and beauty pageants and fireworks and parades and an art’s festival. This last, the art’s festival, includes closing several downtown streets and letting vendors set up booths to sell their wares. I love the idea of an arts festival in open air, but I’ve never gone because that kind of setting is a nightmare for keeping track of small children. It is also guaranteed to make every child in range come down with a bad case of the screaming gimmies, causing them to demand every treat in sight.
This year I finally got to go because my parents volunteered to watch kids while I wandered off for awhile. I picked a time in late afternoon when the sun was not so scorching hot. It was very pleasant to wander through the booths just looking at things without feeling compelled to buy anything. I even stopped to chat with a man who was selling the books he had written.
There is something about the air at a festival like that. Everyone was there to enjoy themselves. For a moment I just stopped and felt the wind as it brushed past me. I looked around at the variety of people who passed by me. There were people dressed to the nines with coifed hair and perfect makeup. There were people with shaggy hair and raggedy clothing. There were people with black hair, piercings, and eyeliner. There were bikers and beauty queens, and stay at home moms, and business men, and families, well dressed kids, and ragamuffin kids, people with different skins and cultural dress. All of those different people gathered together for the purpose of enjoying the day. Naturally, not everyone was happy. Some kids were screaming, some couples were fighting, some people looked hot and miserable, but all of those things just added to the flavor of the event. There is an energy about a gathering of people who are intent on enjoyement.
I loved my own lack of agenda. I had no where in particular to be. I wasn’t seeking anything in particular. I was just there to observe and participate. As I walked I heard Debra Fotheringham performing in a pavillion. I stopped to listen for awhile, delighted to find a familiar face in the crowd. The familiar music was a joy as well. I wished that I could have stayed to talk to her after she was done singing, but Howard joined me and we needed to go and eat. I learned later that she spotted us in the crowd. If I’d known that, I definitely would have stayed to talk for awhile. Ah well. I’m sure I’ll bump into her again since we have lots of mutual acquiantances now.
After dinner Howard and I left the festival behind and went back to Dragon’s Keep. The Keep was hosting an all night game fest for whoever wanted to stop in and play. This was because it is right on the parade route for the Grand Parade. All up and down the street people were camping out to save places for the parade. Hundreds of people were wandering around chatting and just enjoying the pleasant nigh air. Again there was festival in the air. I did not spend all night at the keep. I only stayed until 12:30 because I needed to be home to get the kids up for the parade. But part of me wishes that I could have stayed. It was such a happy place to be. There were so many good friends to talk to. It was like being in college again when I did not have children to be responsible for.
I drove home down the parade route, past crowds of people all wandering about and partaking of the festival air. I wished I could stay. That freedom from responsibility is an experience to be relished. Freedom Festival indeed.