#sappyfest

[laurakwatson]

I'm tabling at the Sappyfest Zine Fair this weekend! 10 - 3 at the Sackville Legion!

(Poster by Patrick Allaby)

[jeaulie]

here’s to all the times i waited to hear from you and i waded and waded

here’s to the albums you showed me while we danced, when we were free on the hill and under the trees

pretty sure the universe was trynna say baby t, u gotta find your way thats when i learned how to seize the day

thought it surreal when you said you dig me because you’re a man and you’re older than me and i thought that only I could like a girl like me or maybe that’s what it is, we’ll wait and see baby, baby, baby

you know you can make anyone feel good under your arm, and warm in your hood brushing arms together like two cold stones you started a fire, i’m burning now skin skin skin and bones

[laurakwatson]

SPELL FOR THE STRAYS

My contribution to The Sappy Post this year!

(The Sappy Post is a free newsletter released daily during the music and art festival, Sappyfest, in Sackville, New Brunswick, Canada.)

[courtneygarvin]

Cool nature stuff in Nova Scotia Canada, August 2017

[jeaulie]

I had been confident in our eye contact, every time, prior. you were beautiful and i felt that I was too, but I never thought of the possibility that there would be any other chemistry involved other than that of our eyes. i’d taken a seat next to people i had never met or seen before, something I forced myself to do all weekend, being a lonesome part of the crowd. I was drinking beer, underaged, which can only make it taste better; I watched the circles of people grow and diminish, walk and run by. You were near because for some reason I felt confident about sitting there, for I had gotten up to walk around, and found myself back at the same picnic table out of the 5 others. I turned my head to the right and you were there, and you were looking straight at me. You looked so cool with your trail of friends behind, and your ponytail tucked into the nape of your neck. I felt out of your league, I always have. Your voice lit a fire into the evening when you leaned in towards me and said 'Hi, I’m Scott'. You could have just said that and walked away, and I would still be sitting here writing about it all because I loved the way you smiled at me and the way the blue in your eyes were brighter than the white. That’s what happens when you are 18 and romanticize anything that radiates. You told me you were from St. Andrews, a town i’d been to when I was little, where the water is cold and strong but worth every second spent looking at. I should have known you were from around here, you were too warm to be from afar. You asked me if I smoked, and I said yes but I had a beer and we were closed into a cage for the freedom of drinking to the music, but smokers had to exit. I told you I’d come and find you; you left and I was too excited to be able to chug the rest of my drink, so I offered it to the woman across from me which, [here’s] to fortunate placing, happened to be her favourite type of beer. I skipped to where you and Elyot were sitting, perched up on a brick and stone wall smoking your cigarettes. You looked cool and I felt special when you smiled at me coming towards you. You offered me a smoke from your pack and handed me your lighter. We sat and talked about things that we like to do. I said I liked to get high and go biking, listening to music, walking and reading; you said you liked the same things. We finished our smokes and jumped down to go find the music. I think I taught you how to dance that night, because you started with hardly a sway and then you moved a little more to each song and found your way. We drank more beer and walked up a stone wall to a small hill of grass and trees, we sat and smoked and drank warm beer. That’s when you told me that your favourite album was Blond by Frank Ocean and I felt myself ignite because I’d never met anyone who liked Frank like I do. I talked to Elyot about breakfast and Samurai Jack, his favourite TV series, which I have yet to watch. It was a beautiful night and I was feeling alright with you sitting beside me, even if we weren’t talking. Elyot suggested that we meet up with his sister Tess and the rest of the gang at the jeep to have some more beer. I walked behind you and him, arm around each other like brothers and I smiled as the people watched us, glowing around each other with our spirits alive that night. I was in love with the moment, and I only knew half of it. We sat on the ground and smoked cigarettes, I listened to you talk and I could have for eternities, rest assured. You made everything sound funnier, I learned that it was a gift that you had; I laughed so much, my cheeks hurt. We sat up on a roof with a ground of gravel and we discussed the cons of being tall: always the one to give piggy backs, but never the one to get any; and always being the big spoon, never the little spoon; and we talked about Frank Ocean, and you told me about all the concerts you’d been to; I said I’d only ever been to Hillary Duff and Avril Lavigne, though I remain shameless of this. Hugo was keen to go back to Goya’s Pizza shack. He was in love with the pizza and had already been there 4 times prior. We made fun of him, but secretly everyone was drunk enough to want to go. We threw gravel at the jeep tires, craving the ting that echoed when you hit the right spot on the rim, then we all got up for Hugo. I gave you a piggy back to the shack and bought everyone an XL cheese pizza because I loved you all to pieces and I was so happy to see yous happy. It was the last of my money, but I wouldn’t have wanted to spend it on anything else. Me, you and Tess talked about coffee for 10 minutes, the mugs and the kinds to drink and not to drink. You said that coffee didn’t do much for you anymore, so I wonder what does do much for you, Scott? And where did all that time go? Why did my favourite time slip faster because I was so happy? You gave me a piggy back to the car and we decided upon going to a DJ set, which happened to be packed with sweaty, lively and beautiful people dancing the night away, I was already hot before even stepping a foot on the dance floor. We danced together, and I wish I would have gotten closer to you, but truthfully I was scared and weary and I didn’t know how much I wanted to be a part of you. I thought I should keep it casual. I think We always wish we could go back to change certain things, but that night was perfect in it’s own way. I felt what I felt and so did you. One thing lead to another and we were in line to a bar with a bowling alley in the basement, where a comedy set would take place. They carded at the door and I got nervous because my ID was proof that divided and differed me from you guys. I was underage and if they didn’t let me in, I knew I’d have to leave, but thankfully the man at the door was incapable of doing his job correctly and he let me in with a smile. We stood and watched the set, our arms bare and reaching for each other casually. I wondered if you felt it too, the need to stay put, touching in silence. Sometimes our elbows would part, but find each other again. My favourite bit of the night, for it was silence and false oblivion tied and knotted with desire to touch. I had to leave at 2 in the morning and it was 1:53, Tess and Hugo had gone to bed some time before that and Elyot had left minutes prior. You walked me to my car, it was the last of what I could grasp of you. I missed you before you were gone. I wrote my address for you on a ripped piece of the Sappyfest lineup sheet and asked of you to write me. You told me it wouldn’t be the last of you. I can only hope that this is true.

[jeaulie]

met you on the weekend between different seas of people and hours of music and the colour blue i had anticipated i’d meet you after my mother had handed me the keys

'do you have a light?' you didn’t hand it to me you sparked a flame— into anything and i leaned into it, not helping the crimson red in my cheeks

maybe i do fall in love with everything but you were taller, even from afar and you leaned heavy over your guitar standing on that stage like a king

sitting on the grass on that bank was everything to feed my dreams cigarette after cigarette, you fulfilled something when you said your favourite album was blond by frank

truth is, i am the worst for a song lyric but i have sang every word to every melody and you have no idea, really that i painted these moments, both watercolour and acrylic

century drive, written on a ripped scrap of paper i hope you write me, some day when you gather the time and energy because i wait by the lake, while you sit atop the skyscraper

[goldenbus]

Head to the @sappyfest main stage at noon for Bird City! Then head to Ducky's at 4pm for Shopkeeper! And in between you can catch a poetry reading over on the Golden Bus at Cranewood from 2-4pm. #goldenbus #sappyfest #birdcity #shopkeeper

[goldenbus]

LOOK!!!! @sappyfest love #sappyfest #goldenbus #buslife