I went to the Movement 2009 Detroit Techno Festival this weekend with my friend Charity. We met two years ago on a Street Retreat here in the Motor City. It was a funny feeling to see people dancing in Heart Plaza by where I had slept. I kept wondering where all the homeless people were going to sleep the next few nights while the festival was going on. The last time I was here my pockets were empty. This time I was very aware of my keys, cell phone, camera, and wallet.
The last time I saw some of these DJ’s spin was in the 80’s. The scene has changed a little since then. It’s a lot whiter than I remember. There were no glow sticks, angel wings, state-of-the-art light shows, or neon colored spandex. We danced in crowed basements and old warehouses. I’m not saying one is better than the other, just different. Like the difference between walking the city with a wallet in my pocket and walking without. Both situations bring freedoms and constrictions.
The memory of the sad boy who dancing in this broken city over twenty years ago makes me smile. The memory of the man who made peace with Detroit two years ago through living on her wounded streets brings with it a feeling of tranquility as the beats move through the ground and I sit under the trees in the grass by the waterfront. The memory of this past weekend dancing in Detroit as I sit at my mother’s computer and type this brings a state of self-reflection.
My hometown continues to break my heart. It is through these deep cracks that compassion comes in.
It’s good to be in the bitter-sweetness of home.
Charity w/ glow sticks
Glow Stick Devil
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