As this is my hat-trick review of this lovely fest, I felt that an angle other than the usual 90 degrees was needed. So, with no further ado, a short very unconstructed Ode to Up The Creek:
In the Shadow of a Looping Kongo of Violence, Kings, Gypsy Queens and Great Apes sail upon the Hot Waters so Blue in an Arc that belongs to no one and to all. A Comet streaks across the Luna, a Fox croons a Black Cat purrs. Intense intents in tents.
Turn the Paige, a moshy stomping Club gathers while brave aquatic souls dive from above into a City Bowl of flesh, Bones and spirit, inspiring a tribal need to let all loose and Wrestle the waves of sound.
Everything is oh so Peachy Keen. This is a Sterling Southern Holiday my Broers.
Sun soaked, spirits consumed, dance had and invisible frisbee caught. Up The Creek, you complete me.
