Today I decided to strike out on my own and take a long drive to New York – three hours away – in part because I was invited to do so and I was intrigued. For the first hour of the drive I was going through torrential downpours hoping there was no flooding because when it comes to taking the Prius swimming there are no winners. My GPS was similarly uncooperative and refused to acknowledge the address I typed in was in fact real. Eventually I’d have to pit the GPS and my phone navigation against each other in a death match. Just kidding, both devices are still fine, I assure you.

But that’s not to say I wasn’t a little frazzled when I finally drove in, more so when I realized I’d have to parallel park. I tried. God’s honest truth I tried. But eventually I gave up and drove quite a distance just to be the last car parked in the line. See, that was easy, now to hoof it the half mile up the street. Slight exaggeration, though the man at the register seemed to pick up on how much of a hot mess I was in that moment. It was an awkward exchange.

This place was bizarre. I had no idea what I was walking into when I came here. I guess I just expected a gymnasium full of vendors like you see in markets back in the sticks but no, this venue seemed to be an old roadside attraction/camp that had long been past its glory years and was now cashing in on how creepy it had become in its state of semi-decay. And why not? Little haunted houses and spooky props seemed to be just the normal background scenery here which made it a charming and strange open-air market. I kinda fell in love with this place as I took some photos before wandering around and finding the vendors in what felt like a Byzantine layout.

I’d been initially invited here as a vendor but these past couple years have been hard in the creativity department. Usually I have something, or a lot of somethings, in the way of art but not lately. Plus I sorta wanted to poke at this place and see what was actually selling here. I’ve been to so many different markets that I knew my particular flavor of art wasn’t always appreciated. Or almost ever if I’m honest. Being a vendor is hard work! I was however delighted to see that I would have fit right in had I decided to be a vendor. The people here were weird, proudly weird, which is the best kind of weird. If you were a witch, they had you covered. Crystals, potions, sage wands, tarot decks and positive vibes you’d find it all here in multiple booths. Then there were the bones, the repurposed scary dolls, and rings made in the shape of human teeth. Weird and whimsical paintings coyly dotted several booths here and there, one fellow had an absolutely gorgeous collection of photography prints of abandoned places, several vendors had an assortment of small fabric creations, a young writer pitched his book real hard but he didn’t have to. I bought it anyway because I like encouraging writers. I also love encouraging artists which is why I also ended up with a button and another small token I bought for a friend which I won’t be talking about just in case they’re reading this!

At some point I ended up in Candy Land – the pot vendors. They had EVERYTHING. And all in such bright colors! Every edible known to man and then some. And some little colorful bongs and I don’t know what else. I sorta wandered away after someone offered a sample. Sample of what I don’t know but I felt like I should drift off before accidentally eating a tab of acid or something. Not that I think anyone here was malicious in any way, that’s just 100% how my life goes. Not a day goes by where I am not asking myself, “How did that just happen?!” And this includes two separate occasions of accidentally eating psychotropic berries. So yeah, I’m talented.

I was really enjoying this. I’d found all my favorite kinds of people so far – witches, hippies, people in full steam punk regalia, stoners, artists, really all the empaths on the fringe of society. This was especially so for the woman selling cutting boards, soap, and paddles presumably to beat lovers with. I’m not sure how these things are related as this is also not my wheelhouse, but the sex positivity was refreshing in any event. I ordered a cup of corn chowder and sat just in front of the aforementioned vendor. Why? People watching. It was the perfect spot for that. While I was there I messaged the organizer of this event (and hilarious author) Jeff Mach and did a short meet and greet. It’s always lovely to finally put a face to my Twitter and/or Facebook friends! I wished him good luck as I went about my afternoon.

I must say the vendors and customers alike at this place were all super nice! I lost count how many compliments I got on my bellbottoms, silly T-shirt, and vibrant orange hair. Got into one discussion with a vendor about my age – 38 – to which both vendors gasped, “You do not look 38!” THANK YOU. You know how to flatter these creaky old bones!

Anyway, I am writing this tonight in the hopes someone may see it and join the festivities tomorrow as this is a three-day event Fri-Sun. And maybe if you’re reading this later on who knows, it could be an annual event if enough people like it… I certainly did!