Let’s look at the creativity and courageousness exposing the truths, the deep meaning underfoot, like bugs after the rain, this past year has been insane. Rearranged and renamed, complaints unrestrained, this is the new normal. I’d wanted to write scripture about Shoe Fest, some sort of article of faith, a declaration of devotion to what made me fall in love with festivals in the first place… Alas, this is my iconoclast blast that shall be touted on Facebook groups across America, the finest in toilet reading material. I’m not trying to be adversarial, just want to write a memorial about my favorite place to be when the good ol U.S. of A celebrates good ol' Labor Day, ya know, the holiday we celebrate for organized labor? If indeed there is a greed, they say all we need is to organize against it and that is what makes us free, don’t cha see?
Shoe Fest at Camp Shaw-waw-nas-see had me lingering in the lap of love, soaking in the serotinal serenades and singing folk along as we spoke of a joke again as one more day of summer passed and the last dance, last chance, ya never know what tomorrow unlocks dreaded real world can wait. The autumnal season approaches. Caffeinated and vaccinated, you know it won’t last forever so you stay a little longer and leave a little later in this cradle of Country Home. Nature’s toodle-oo and crisp morning dew hosts Old Shoe who debut their once-a-year festival that has (almost been) happening for 10 years now, always on Labor Day weekend. Loving each other. Knowing where you stand. Nothing is in limbo because it’s secure as we understand. 2021 may have created new guidelines dealing with supply lines of fear over here but I think we all came together to do with intentions pure.
Shoe Fest is first aid for the fractured festival’s soul. It is infused by the river with songs to fill the air. This space is the place to brave the risks with sunblock, hand sanitizer, and bug spray on Labor Day. Mine the ore inside your core, shake off the dust and mistrust, renew your shine and have a damn fine time. Shoe Fest is perfect in its simplicity. Lucious lumber limbers your soul foretold as it would happen again. The numbers are small and the quality is great, join us as the colors change in an update. Digressional, eventual, a perennial octagon of shape and form, torn from the storm we’ve endured for far too long. People are meant to be together listening to jazz, sipping on shiraz. Abandon the day and the heat. It’s the hummus underneath. There is better work for those feet. Have a seat at this jamboree. Listen to the honey bees ten thousand leagues away. Let’s storm the stage with affection, no exception!
Moving with the crowd is first aid for the rage. The flow of a festival is the only kind of going with the flow I can really get behind. This whole festival is a band-aid in every sense of the word. It’s adhesive dismissive of these gangly bodies we carry around. It’s soul to soul transmission. Lots of I missed you! I love you! It’s so good to see you! It is not us physically that has been tired. I could get no sleep at all because here is my soul’s rest. Peace and non-quiet. It’s all I need to retrieve the dreams we used to know and anyway. I know I’m not the only one looking up. In the darkest night, we saw the light. In the shortest day, it all fades away. Snare drum and guitar strum, circle around the fire, and admire the choir of all these beautiful faces.
You could say Arbor Creek or Arbor Crick, either way, I’m lovesick lighting the wick for my prayer candle to the blues. You don’t need to finesse the best but we’ve been blessed to begin the journey anew once we withdrew from the work week and got down to Shoe. I knew the tone would be great, Arbor Creek sealed my fate, no debate as we entered in past The Dawn and found us some lawn to subdue the cement of work, worry and fret. I pulled up a seat but before long I knew every song and this Illinois convoy was pulling me along. The Song Remains the Same.
Beating the heat, seeking peace in Arbor Creek. Have mercy! Jesus just left Chicago! David Drilling’s vocals might compete with his guitar abilities which are off the chart and we were off to a great start for my Shoe wanderoo. Arbor Creek has the sweet strum of Jackie Wilson or the Platters but a jagged edge like a drum in an emporium, a premium strum that is sure to go platinum. Hydro force and electronic voice strumming to their song Honey then subdued Silver and Gold got dirty with the complexity of chivalry and lyrics of the galaxy and the dynasty of love. That Day is here so off we did steer to the next corner of campsites popping up not just luck but love in a treasure trove of Camp Shaw-wa-nes-see. I do believe.
I have to mention the synchronization cuz when Arbor Creek completed Waiting for the Bus/ Jesus Just Left Chicago my feet were off the ground with the sound. Holy shit! How do these kids know about these 80s rocker shows? It was utterly neat, a treat from the backseat, I should have sent out a tweet. Frank on the drums Larry on the strums Alex on bass David singing the requiem. Creek Blues should be the theme song for this budding jam at La Fest du Shoe. if you know you know, now back to the show. The blonde mess of progress keeps the train chugging along and the song. remains. the. same. You will remember this band’s name.
Afternoon Moon chasing shadows in the woods like a country bumpkin should until you unmask grandma and she’s actually the wolf! Bound by the truth, it’s so good to have this band back in the loop. The caravan lost its caboose when they cut loose from the midwest. Here at Shoe Fest, we can be blessed by the keys and if you please, a lil twin satellite excitement. Tap Tap Tap Tap Tap What’s the deal how can they steal away from time and rewind and still be so damn tight? Are these the licks of songs gone by or have you been practicing via the interwebz? The reMOONion was on fire and they must have conspired with the devil. Fire on the mountain, run boys run. The devil’s in the house of the rising sun. “Tell me that I’m lazy but it’s true. It’s just karma coming back to you” do do do do do do do pew pew! Lasers and phasers spaces of time were transported to the loo and back again, lollygagging with friends as the music sends your conversations into long pauses. This ain’t jazz whereas there were plenty of whafts of the devil’s lettuce coming from the crowd. Santana riff ripped into my salsa side the feeling is alive as Afternoon Moon rode again into the nighttime.
Philosophy of sympathy there is no earthly guarantee but a promise of giddy apology and the willingness to do right as you would have done to you and yours or as you would like done to you like the mangy ol cat that cuddled you through the hard times. There is no artery that will mainline the feeling of music and camaraderie. It was Friday night and everything was outta sight almost as if everything came to full fruition. Fruition switching into the Bent River Stage, turning the page, igniting the chapter. A warranted change, the rearrange was calmer, more conducive to the family atmosphere, clear to the band was the clarity from the harmony. Gaged again inside the confines of the chief, Mimi Naja pure in belief, spoke into that microphone like a cool rag after a hard match, like a relief from the heat when it stings too much to ignore. I Don’t Mind had her as the ace boom with Jay Cobb swabbing like the nurse practitioner curing all my ails.
Dawn had Jay singing at a dog’s pace. These two pups of Shoe Fest are here in all their glory. Whatta whirled. As if I put on my records on in the backyard but better, live and direct, and connected - I can finally plug back in. Clap along, Snap in time, giggle and rattle cuz it got sexy up in here. The sweet embrace of the song carried me through some hard times. It’s just a matter of time, It’s just a Labor of Love.
That’s when the baby-making music began. Above the Line is also off Labor of Love - Don’t they have new stuff to drop on us? But shit yes I’ll take Labor of Love. It’s been so long. Keep on going y’all. Forget About You. Where Can I Turn? Kellen Asebroek on vocals “I can’t keep on running with the same old crew” heh. Or can I? Matt Robinson from Old Shoe lent Mimi his tele guitar. That’s how new bonds are formed. Fruition adorned. New friendships are just around the corner. Wild as the Night. I’m a howling wolf too. If they thought 2018 was “Watching It All Fall Apart” I wonder what they named 2020. Oh yeah, “Broken at the Break of Day” That’s fitting. Halfway through the set, they had played a lovely smattering of the past 5 years’ collection. Fruition has such a solid catalog to rely on, I admire the approach like, hey, remember us? Yeah, AND we have new stuff too! Sounds like rain on a windowpane. Sweet Hereafter wailing mandolin with a pitter-patter of raindrops twanging - I can almost smell the coffee brewing after Tom’s Diner. Instead, I pour the milk. “Unapologetically ourselves and next time we’ll be a little better rehearsed.” Bassline and I don’t mind. Mimi & Jay swaying back n forth a lil dance a lil slash nothing funny about bongos man. In homage to Charlie Watts - they closed with Sympathy for the Devil. Whoot whoo!
Al Green is on the scene. Joe Day is my favorite falsetto funk. I shoulda have known the accrued time off gave the guys a new soul voodoo accredited to a change-up in lineup. The overdue Shoe Fest featuring an Old Shoe original set. I came around the corner to Bayou Honey, taking that new guitarist out for a spin. He drives great. Singing from the fretboard an aura uphoarded explored the sounds. We feasted upon the beast that is the beloved host with the most, Old Shoe. Noodling, getting loose, walking the walk, Oneida County brought out the elephant walk.
“Pretty little girl she found me spitting…”
what? Spitting what? The choral floral buds were choking me out as we kicked up the dust. I left home but it Never Left Me to Camp Sha-wa-nes-see for having us back again. Billy Strings? How long until there’s nothing left at all? Off Home?! Nice!! Watch It All Fall. Mr. Jim Conry. It’s an honor. A real honor. Leo is a new member of the Shoe fam. Fresh faces in the same old places. Jim on Fire is Burning Low busting out with some Garcia tone trumpet synthesizer mimic peddle. They closed with DUST FUCKING BOWL. ooops nope. The uptempo got me like… Mouth of the Lion and yessah! Dustbowl! Dranking away my sorrows praying I can borrow time from tomorrow…
Where does dancing man come from?
Romancing and enhancing,
I have to know
Where does dancing man come from?
His name is Chris and even in this, I have oh so many questions.
Where does dancing Chris lay his head?
I’m Grateful he ain’t dead. He never asks for bread, but oh
Where does Dancing Chris lay his head?
Pete Jive Walking along in the rain hitting every heartstring in the terrain. Pete pulls out that one chord... PING! into accapella song stylings. Pete Jive is traveling light - Is that a lightsaber in your pocket or are you just happy to see us? “There’s a hole in your soul where the wind blows through” hanging on to that branch is the little red cardinal PING PING and the songs of suffering. Dancing in the rain answering his own calls. Performing the waltz with thanks and praise we all want to know where did the good times go? I... I... Eyyyyeee!
Outdancing dancing Chris the dance battle is on the stage off the stage back on again PING Stay until the second side is over. We all got corduroy grooves listening to his song. We all got Goosebumps. It was fucking touching. Classic Shoe Fest swell to tears punched in the gut with laughter just as the overflow from my eyes touched down and side-splitting eye misting cuz we are Wild wild wild! Young Young Young! None of us know or care how the hell to get back home!
All fibers lead to Shoe Fest’s salvage edge where nothing unravels and we all hang on for just a little bit more. Hang on cuz it’s sure to be unraveled over here guys…
Are LED headlights murder-inducing? Take the corner and the curve Let me ride shotgun so I’m out of the way. We are a bunch of working men & women “I’m older now and it’s happening again”
“If we don’t change our hearts we repeat the past again”
Ella Fitzgerald & Pete Jive must have canoodled in a previous lifetime climbing out of deep despair with the truth in music. When I get low, I get high, a few bugs came out after the rain like daytime fireflies dancing along with us. All I see are Roses into the Wheel. Love & Electrolytes are so very important.
Zoo Funk You horns n possible storms. Not very familiar with their songs but I’ve seen them do sit-ins. Good to see the whole scene fancy-free with a killer bass lick. Zoo Funk You blooms with opportune home spun grooves just after the noontime hour like a raccoon gets into the garbage and trashes the place with funk conjunct amongst the gadgets and counterbalanced artists at large, Natalie Cressman and Jennifer Hartstwick. They took it up they took it down They took it where Umphreys dares to tread with the loud outbound sound that somehow makes melody seem like their heredity. Percussion, brass, and shredding guitar, it’s clear this band has come from not too far to funk us up with buttercup. As you wish.
Chicago Farmer and the Fieldnotes more sound than four dudes can hold rolling thru your town. Varigated variole the pistol is the goal cuz that is the stuff that pollinates. Indiana Line second song. There’s a standstill in Danville and an excellent shout-out to Jess Quinn at Flannel Candle Company. The dirtiest uniforms are now Dirtiest Unicorns, truly mythical creatures combining like Captain Planet and the Planeteers or when the Autobots roll out, Voltron with ESP, invisibility, super speed, and the ability to take down 13 dollar beers while steering clear of danger, an octagon of song. When the good Lord made the Fieldnotes, she made rambling men of poetry and song. Hippies must gather on their lawn more than 4 sides, they’re here and then they’re gone onto Babylon from duckling to swan long live John Taube. Three chords and the truth running from Duluth to Wisconsin from Indiana to Illinois they employ the heart of the midwest addresses bringing soul to the cultureless.
The Claudettes fancied fresh tunes for my ears. Piano interplayed with tickling tones from the guitar and a bad babe losing touch? Yes, please. So much for the genres cuz this is not inside any box. It’s a renaissance of sound. As the clouds grew over to cover their Pink Floyd's Us & Them gave me ears to discover what their unique brand truly was - a lil suffer to be governed with joy busting out of the seems like the cream rising to the top. Their new album "High Times for the Dark" played out as the sky started crying to their performance. The shoe show-goers ran for comfort but in the mist, Berit’s vocal instrument was triumphant like the solo ray of light that may have created a rainbow all on its own. The prism of the dark side’s cover album artwork personified in the field that day. Adhesive bonding driving timing beyond drawn to phenomenon thereupon we crossed the bridge back to the headstrong Athea Grace.
With a little sympathy and earthly hymnody, there is plenty of charity in this community. Althea brought that that Cali love in a digestible way then when you add Janis, magic happens. Pure magic. Like some private show of MTV cribs Dua Lipa levitation fingers pointing my sugar boo glitter in the skies hearts in my eyes for you ladies. Hold Me, a song so familiar, like CPR, just waking up from a dream to Dreamers. Muliebrity means of womanly nature and if this yin energy is that, well, then it came to Fruition. Labor of Love from above. I like the road these women are taking. It’s what’s inside that makes you girly. Grabbing femininity is such a grab for cash and a splash of sass with a trucker cap and boots. Let’s lose the boxes they put us in. No, I don’t mind. It was so pleasant out. It WAS perfect. So was never wearing a bra again.
“If I have learned anything in this last year, it’s that you can not take anyone that you love for granted,” said Althea from on the stage. My critical condition rehydrated in the loving arms of Althea’s set. The kinship on the stage mimicked the immunity of invincible love. Love all of your edges and that incomparable voice of a siren soulstress stitching it up. The chemical compound of Janis Wallin & Althea Grace is the right prescription. Stay Here Now the single wow how she can move from rock to soft somehow “when you say I’m your girl” Did our girl find love or is she just really good and spreading love to us all? Shout out to Afternoon Moon - Big ups to Family Groove Company if this song is a sampler of what Janis is about to do, Family Groove Company is gonna be a treat. Shakey Ground Temptations cover that the Moon fellas encouraged her to step up and out with. Easy to see why. She set ‘em up and Janis knocked em down. BOOM.
Association syncopation chain containment linking the distinct sync and wink of the ladies of the scene that keep it keen and kewl to be a ‘lil something more. Reconnect and energize to the eyes of the world. Dude. The Miles Davis hullabaloo. Saturday’s child. Take a load off fanny. Take a load for free.
Family Groove Company with the fills and funky face-melting rock of ages. Shoe Groove has long been a winning combo but for the first time in way too long, witnessing FGC back in full effect commanded respect especially when the sisters of soul jumped on stage for the Weight. Next up was the Shoe hosts doing their album in entirety and we’re still not sure what the clues lead up to so we’ll groove to the smooth sounds of Jordan on vocals Loose Lucy and her socials shining like opals with hidden delights and smoke curls. The tempo hit from high to low the power is in the live show. It built brick by brick till the funk was too thick and they brought on Jennifer Hartswick and Natalie Cressman for a crescendo that left an indelible memento Doctor Adam Lewis delivering the blood pressure meds jingle-jangle the guitar untangles the star-spangled banner in only Family Groove Company manner. Oh say can you see by the stage’s colored light cover, for the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming. The Ramsey Lewis tune called The In Crowd was the boogie-woogie bugle boy of Company G.
Special needs were everywhere on our way to the Henhouse Prowlers. They make the rainbow so bright seduction sacrificed to make sure you stay in time. This is all an illusion Stan the man on lights separated out for you. HHP hollered into an extended finger-picking flux capacitor finding Doc at the clock tower jumping jiggawatts! We’re living the Richman’s Dream. There’s something about the way Ben spits “Ain’t never had to work for nothing” that gives me ants in the pants like yeah I work. I work a lot and I like it that way. Just like him. Hardest working band in the land firebranded by the light and the heat. The twang slang and slap-bang are four grand in hand in demand commanding the stage without a single electrical chord plugged in.
Camp Shaw morphed into some out west ranch where we do si do and square dance. The local saloon was all busted up so they launched a new way of living singing about Heartbreak & Devastation. Ampersand contraband, it was a bluegrass wonderland. Lose yourself then come back into the fairyland of time’s losing quicksand. Firework Crack! Back to black but the stage lights excite the music ignited and we boogied to a Berklee grad’s mandolin finding the pin in the bluegrass haystack, Wishing Well. Take my coin and my troubles too!
The surprise cover album by Old Shoe was foretold when the congas hit and the crowd bit. The organs sailed and into the tale of Widespread Panic with vocals that ring out like a Bell, “Kiss the mountain air we breathe goodbye it's time to fly…” They did Widespread Panic's iconic album Til the Medicine Takes.
Whatta highlight in flight, whatta mastery of mimicry, whatta sound too profound once the medicine takes for goodness sakes it’s all gas no brakes. The reverb in the atmosphere, a veneer to a giant stadium show but here at home and damn it was spot on. Those vocals with a spot of alcohol foretold the high souled stone-cold vocal nightfall to enthrall the sprawls of fireballs. Sweet sweet sweet your honeycomb… now now now just like home. Like a fresh skipped stone to it all... Still right here. Still just here. Still just here, brave brave friend. When one shines on, we all shine. That was the power of the ensemble.
Cornmeal with Short Brown Hair so many memories so many sing-along slices of good times gone by sounding seductively the same as the songs that live in our hearts - songs to live on. The vehicle for life-giving blood donors will always be Wavy’s made for Bluegrass voice. A sound unlike any other, it was a real treat to hear “always got to be this way” River Gap and Sheep by Pink Floyd. zoom plunk smash lights and bright souls shining till 2 am. Zzzzzz
Fox Crossing String Band on Sunday morning was all red and ready to giddyup foxtrot right into your heart. They started with a Ricky Skaggs cover to open, Ronettes midway thru interspersed with originals that fit right in seamlessly dirty dancing with the “sexy vampire band” Foxes stuck in the middle with you playing their new instrumental original, More Wine Please.
“I knew there was a world beyond the Smokies… and I wanted to see it for myself… But I always came back for what I discovered growing up there: wonder and wisdom, music and inspiration, freedom and faith.” - Dolly Parton
Strong vocals, strong standing, strong whiskey- "The difference between whiskey and me is that whiskey ain’t thru with you. There ain’t nothing you can bottle boy, that’s better than me." Allie, Cassie, Despina, and Beth give breathe to many motets while we start to sweat as is the bluegrass etiquette. No time to fret with this quartette, a vocal pirouette with sexy vampire silhouettes. I will come on down and dance with them. Dancing man Chris curtsey’d at the shout-out. Jolene was symphonic, exploring the joys of platonic love in a multi-splendered polyphonic dimension. The Foxes set was a retention of pretension in total transformation. The last day of music commenced then.
Chicago Farmer Cody is the Camp Shaw cowboy spiting stories leading Sunday sermons about the working man, about the can-do attitude of those not blessed with a silver spoon. People over Profits prophet philosophic theosophic philanthropic the greed that’s gone mainstream. He did a John Prine tune then the song he wrote the night John Prine died. It was an environmental protest song, Mother Nature's Daughter. Hallelujah- brought me to tears until he busted out a dry Mitch Hedberg style line, "Sometimes people sing along with songs. The easiest way to get people to sing along is to just have one word.” The whole crowd singing Hallelujah hell yeah shoe-ya! From tears to gut-busting laughs and naked people. And bubbles. Chicago Farmer did Backseat, the 15 & 1/2 min version and every instance of the word "you" was replaced by "shoe." Its Illinois! Sun Beard with a jam written by Farmer in a dream was a total jam. Janis singing Tom Petty, we are taking our time as we keep on growing closer.
Jennifer Hartswick & Nick Cassarino WNUA 95.9 Jazz come alive in contrast to the sad-faced underground clubs, a sunny day recast as sounds unsurpassed amassed the crowd ready for final celebrations of the last day of Shoe Fest. Who could reach the higher register? Jennifer or Nick in the thick of those vocal tones here came Natalie on trombone like a backbone to dethrone the vocals then back to the vocals after a brief trumpet interlude, all the while Nick Cassarino holding it down drawn in by the melody like the staff of Hermes, the caduceus, a snake wrapped around the staff bringing relief to the masses. It was reminiscent of 2019 like 30db, casual music conversation amongst friends. “You don't know nothing about love.” His guitar riffs imitated her vocal amazingness and then Angel from Montgomery was so polished so smooth like a songbird. Her take on this classic was made totally her own.
Mr. Blotto somewhere over the rainbow of blues and country and rock lies the play what you love weirdness with fellow shrieks of me too! Fans as custodians of the vibe, making everything alright. "I don’t need no dirty woman in the middle of the night." Everyman music outspanning the stars growing up above on this fine Sunday evening at Shoe Fest. Every time Paul ripped into another shred I swear another shooting star darted across the field. Ninety minutes from sublime to surreal, Mr. Blotto always steals the show like a superman talisman.
Miles Over Mountains (MOM) brought up nick Casssrino, Natalie & Jennifer for Stevie Wonder’s Master Blaster. Sean sang smokey and unsmothered as the horns brightened up the Harlem smog smoothing out for the sweet sounds of Jennifer singing alongside Sean. A lil rough for a second which just makes the audience love ‘em even more than Cassarino careening into the song with reactionary sanctuary making way for Jennifer to differ and make this Master Blaster Bluegrassed and steadfaster. MOM added a fiddle to make four, five. They built a grid-like pyramid now a riddle hot off the griddle. Their anthems without banter left room for dancers giving a glace. News from the Underground romancing the answers, dancing man is still prancing. How does he do it?!
Jazz and folk with a stealie bolt the visuals the fresh air dislocated the fractured funk and tore the roof off the sky with gentles breezes as Melvin Seals’ hands glide over keys with ease. The sound went out but the players kept playing and the organ sounded like a medicine man. That’s all right, mama. It’s alright momma any way you do. Melvin Seals & JGB plus Jennifer, like the Louie Armstrong of the evening, whatta wonderful world, had such flirtatious connection. If the first musical instrument was the human voice, Jennifer encapsulated that sound of all time, the speech of angels. Shred master John K on guitar hey hey hey, Hey Pocky Way into Dear Prudence like I’ve never heard before.
"Look around round round" never sounded so sweet like "Live at Keystone" but live in Manteno Illinois for a lil’ ‘ol fest that’s 10 years blessed. Whatta feeling Shoe Fest looking around at all the faces itchy coo park it’s all too beautiful, an irrefutable conclusion to a wonderful weekend. Feeling alright you all, feel like Dynomite! King Floyd song divine light try if I might it’s hard to describe the feeling of gaining flight. Elevation while sitting in my seat. JGB was the lift-off without a cough, elixer with no tricks just treats. Complete unto itself. The spirit of Jerry was definitely alive.
Late in the Evening - the music seeping thru - playing it the long way home… nobody is ready to believe that we won’t be doing this again tomorrow. The Shoe String mix n match all-star cast clicked attached copy and pasted without a rat race hesitation, just one more set to linger in the love. I tried hard to go to bed with the long week ahead but when Jennifer, such a betty, joined in for Rock Steady we tossed confetti and danced in our PJs without a care in the chilly early autumn air. Beauti-full in beauty fall. Play Jon play!! The praxis was easily accessed but you gotta be in the right place at the right time with the right people.
Playing Shoe String on repeat sweet sweet repeat cuz I can’t pick just one, just gonna DANCE ALL NIGHT. Rock steady was what it is. Throw your hands up in the air! What fun to take this ride! It was a funky low down feeling so healing revealing the joy again full send to the heavens in sevens E Dub from the Dawn bookending the percussion concussion so this haze of the days remains. Paul Bolger, Nick Cassarino, Chicago Farmer, Pat Otto on mando, artists at large, no one in charge cuz this was anarchy of the highest design. It’s a Music and Arts Festival. There are designs to take in with your eyes everywhere you look. Then we painted our Masterpiece - tears flowing like that creek. A bridge over troubled waters - a dream of high beams self-esteem and redeemed promises that didn’t require a wavier. Shoe Fest is a savior.
Furthermore, I hope the meaning won’t be lost or misconstrued. It's word voodoo and that’s what I intended to do. Just like the shoe crew drinking shoe brew at a very large barbecue. Peek a boo! It’s a preview of the best little fest in the midwest, the long-awaited overdue Shoe Fest. We’ve been waiting for you. Come and dance on our floor, take a step that is new. We have got a lovable space that needs your face… Shoe Fest and your crew. You’ll see that life is a ball again laughter is calling to you down at our rendezvous... Tangled up in Shoe. I recorded the uncontrived, the subtle nuances, the connections, and insurrections I can get on board with. Thank you Shoe Fest, Cheers to 10 years of all your love and volunteers! We cannot be playful without your reappraisal and the goosebumps to remind us we are alive. Thank you, for a real good time.
Take a peek at photos from the weekend
