That was the name of the game last week when I attended the SLOT Art Festival in western Poland. Unfortunately yours truly oft displays the delikatnie of a one-legged and heavily intoxicated gorilla. Before expounding on that I should first give some background. I was invited to attend this festival a few days before my arrival in Poland and went immediately there after departing the train. My companions were Ania and Jacob and three friends of theirs (Ania and Jacob being the children of Darek and Asia who I met in Bojano and also went to Croatia with last month). In their company I experienced major struggle at first in adapting to yet another change of place, of people, of culture, of obstacles, and all else that have become my hurdles. In the first days of attendance I noted in myself a very negative emotional state of feeling so out of place and out of touch with the normal dynamics of life. I hadn't the energy or desire to struggle to communicate and had the sense of wishing to be elsewhere yet no concept of where or what place that might be. With my chums I was a poor and infrequent communicator, a Skyler reality that many would understand is not in the least normal. Thankfully in those days when moments of loneliness and a sense of despondance rose to their peak I met individuals whose graciousness and ability to communicate freely strengthened my spirit. Those individuals and the company of my friends brought life back to this weary traveler. I had the opportunity then to truly enjoy this amazing festival.

What is this SLOT you may wonder? In a word its a mixture of diverse workshops, teaching of truths about God, concerts, relationship building, and encouragement of artistic awareness. The workshops ranged from fire dancing, djembe drum playing, and dread lock sporting to philosophical discussions of life, family, poetry, and religious ideals. Concerts ranging from hard rock to reggae and worship. I have never before experienced such a diversity of activity nor balance in maintaining a focus on the teaching of God truths while allowing for exploration of so many areas of art and philosophy.

How did I spend my time? Shooting arrows at distant targets (I'm pleased to announce that no persons were seriously injured), hitting drums with the rhythmic talent of the next chap whose never before attempted (when you have a long term musician encouraging you to feel the music within and all you feel is the activity of your lower intestine or the sudden urge to ram the drumstick into his earhole you wish for childhood years and youthful musical exploration) and performing modern dance with the aforementioned gorilla style delikatnie. Modern dance was the most memorable not only for the friendships made therein but for the newness of expression in its attempt. Day one and two of said workshop included joint wrenching movement and Bambi style prancing about with spin, twirl, squat, and roll accessories. Those who know me best can easily imagine I'm sure the wondrous grace of movement and fluidity I displayed. All eyes turned and I dare say a few stomachs turned and transplant eyeballs were requested. Day three was the crowning achievement of delikatnie styling. Envision now yours truly pair dancing with a strapping six footer to the tune of slow and deliberate snake style movement in and out of one another's space (all the while being encouraged to maintain the "delikatnie" theme). It gave touch me tender entirely new meaning and foulness of expression. Not a display to be repeated in mixed or weak stomached company let me tell ya. After this and more to a similar tune our final task was four person improvisational dance with again the challenge of entirely new expression. It was these challenges I think that so bonded our little group of willing participants and I was fortunate to spend many of my last hours at the camp in their company. Overall the camp was an amazing lesson in the beauty of offering a diversity of enjoyment and experience and it was wonderful to see the artistic accomplishments of others in those final days and final performances.

On Monday we departed the camp for our journey here to Warsaw and the home of Darek and Asia. The warmth and joy of this family, their excitement for my coming, and the endless hours of learning a language that I have grown to love and be thrilled in the acquisition of combine to make for exuberant enjoyment of each moments since my arrival. There is a new photo album up with pictures from the camp. You'll remember Ania and Jacob from before and the newcomers are Patricya, Agnieska, and another Jacob. Those pictured elsewhere are friends I met in the modern dance class and as I mentioned spent much time with in the last days. In case any of you have interest the website for the camp is www.slot.art.pl . If you wish take a gander.

'Tis already a week since this was written but I want to get it up. Much has happened since and will soon be told of.

At this moment I'm bound for Vienna aboard a train, my journey leading back to Poland and friends therein. At times such as these I become weary of the journey, happy to return to my friends but saddened to say goodbyes to others I leave behind. Feel longing for someone to share this journey with, to sit beside me here and share of all that was and might be now. Yesterday within myself I could feel the emotional disconnect as it reared its ugly head upon my heart. Perhaps the sense is necessary though the experience of starting to lose relationships built while they still surround me is an entirely new dynamic perpetrated on this year's voyage. Never am I without hope but a nagging desire to know my place and to begin to build the life that my heart and life has been preparing itself for with incredible excitement. My guide is sure of that I know; he leads me to places and people such as in the last weeks that I shall never forget nor regret the time shared in their company. I look out now at the Austrian countryside before me and see his mark in the deep green of each leaf and in the majestic glow of the setting sun. Am rejuvenated to know that one who could paint such a scene has my heart and life in his tender hands.

A sign of such care was the wonderful experiences of two weekend's ago in the region of Prekmurje, Slovenia's northeast. I met there with Karla and Benjamin's respective families and was lavished with hospitality and the chance to journey to the area's few landmarks. This is the way to experience a place, through the hearts and homes of those who live within its borders. At these homes the plates were never emptied, the best of homemade drink never far from my lips (in my humble opinion the myriad of fruit alcohols of Croatia and Slovenia make a majority of others comparable to urine), and the conversation continuing until the late hours. On the first night at Karla's house after the tasting of fresh-from-tree-and-bush plums and currants there was discussion of area house prices particularly that of the neighbors. I had visions of a quick purchase when was told that the price of 25000 euro was considered expensive as in Phoenix I am unsure if one can buy a portable toilet these days for such a price. On Saturday and then Sunday morning the majority of time was spent with Benjamin's mother and grandmother. Luckily his mom speaks a fair amount of English and the quantity of philosophical discussion only worked to rapidly improve it. I really know how to lay it on thick from th onset asking one who hasn't spoken English in years about the meaning of life and perspective on who God is. Saturday eve we enjoyed the cello expertise ('twas quite brilliant) of a chap who was convinced that the Slovene word for thank you was none other than "Koala" rather than the real deal "Hvala." At the end of each musical masterpiece played he would either roar that out or whisper it in deep, resounding, forty years of smoking tones. Had the audience quite tickled by eve's end. In the final hours of our visit to Prekmurje Sunday we again had a marvelous feast at Karla's following the practice building of the fam's tent (Karla and Benjamin were off camping for a week). The tent building, meal, and few sups of borovnica zganje (blueberry mixed with alcohol; the best I've tasted of the mixes by the way) were enough to have me giddy as a school girl for drive home and day's end. Nothing beats a weekend of gluttonous gorging, zganje slugging, and philosophical chatting to round out one's time in a place. I look forward to the day of my return to that place and those people.

There is more to come about my current local and my exercises in dental torture. Tonight I must be off to sleep and tomorrow I should be able to spew a few sentences of reprisal.

In about an hour I am off to Poland to go to a festival with my family from Warsaw. I had intended to write already about my activities over the weekend but now I have no time and will not until Sunday at the earliest. Until that time there are some new pictures up to take a gander at and I will update about my activities soon enough.

Two morns ago I traversed my highest ever peak, that of Triglav. With only two hours of sleep, shoes that threatened to seperate at any moment, and a few tasty sambos I set out with Blaz and eleven others to the 2800m (and then some) summit. My companions displayed concern over the likelihood of said shoes surviving the venture but I had ascents in Poland and Slovakia in the same pair to encourage my success here. I was not about to let my not having pictue perfect sportswear to prevent it as since the mention of Triglav some weeks ago I have wanted to surmount it. It is said that all Slovenes must scale this mountain at some point in life to truly call themselves such and the hearing of that statement more than peaked my interest.

Early morning hikes seem a cure for many ails and in this case the sleep deprivation was scarcely noticed and I was up the mountain pass like Heidi on steroids. Our only nourishment of the morn had been a kebab in Ljubljana which amazingly enough had in it meat and veg of good quality so there was no stomach destruction. The hike, the view, delectable sandwiches at lunch, the varied company, and the need for some rock climbing skill made for an exhilirating journey upwards. At the peak when all were rejuvenated in our success the customary arse whipping began. Apparently all first timers must receive two of the best from large rope on the behind. I ended up with three as a result of my cameraman not catching the first two wallops. When we scaled down to our mountain accomodation the tiredness finally hit and after a few card games and some tiredness-causing-giggles I was off to bed and a heavy headed sleep. I wanted to see the sunrise from that spot atop the nation and the 4:30 wakeup could not deter me. I was forced to wander far from our place and high back into the mountains off of the trail. I could imagine the voice of an old woman wailing "Don't wander off of the trail" but I then started questioning the necessity of such thinking. I was enthralled at the thought of seeing sunlight break over the mountains and was not to allow nonexistent trails to prevent me. As you will see in the pictures the effort and excitement were not in the least wasted as the experience left yours truly awestruck. The sun peeked its face upon me for only a few short moments but its affect on the landscape overwhelmed my senses with beautiful imagery. I returned to my bed filled with greater appreciation of the creator's work and inspired for our return voyage. The rest of the gang awoke shortly after and we set out on the long path through mountain lakes and dense greenery to the mountain base on the other side from where we had ascended. Thanks to considerate organization a van awaited us there to take us out for a marvelous last lunch together before we returned to our cars and the journey home.

I feel as though I may not have done this experience justice in this writing of it but I currently haven't the energy to improve. I would appreciate that those of you that wish to comment in future would be more descriptive. I like to receive any but especially something of whether parts of the post were enjoyed or meaningful would be more valuable to me. I write because I love to do so, I had never imagined I could receive so much enjoyment in it, but of course the input and encouragement of others is welcomed with glee. Take a look at the new photo albums on Lovable Quirks to get an idea of our venture. The second album has some misc. shots from last week.