I spent this weekend in the arms of passion. I’m not talking about bedroom adventures, I’m talking about the Art-A-Thon. Little Red Studio held a 24-hour event where space was given to practice, create, eat, drink, dance, talk, whatever. A room full of people who are passionate about what they do and what they create. No pretension. Unabashed geekery.

And it got me to thinking (along with a conversation I had with Bergen) about filters. With the astounding exception of this past weekend and an incredibly small percentage of even my closest friends, I am constantly filtering myself. Keeping the squee within. The dark humor as only a small inward smile. The sexuality subdued. The pointless (?) stories to a minimum. The comicbook geek, the computer nerd, the sociologist to a passing comment, an inside joke. Sure, there are people that I can express one or even two of these aspects in full, but not the full-on package.

This weekend those around me saw my desire to give of myself – to tell stories and hear stories, to help with their art even though I am still too shy to make my own (long story there), to give massage after massage, to pick up whatever task was forgotten – as my art. No one thought it was cutsie or creepy when I would follow a comment about how awesome balloons are with a dead baby joke.

I have never felt so welcomed, so loved, so accepted as I do there. I cried from happiness at the closing ceremony. Thank you.