I made a last minute decision to head up to the farm for Halloween. I usually wear some sort of animal mask: a goat, two types of wolf mask, a black sheep, coyote, crow and a horse. Call me a traditionalist but dressing up on Witches New Year should honor the spirit world and it’s deities; not showing up at a party in a toothpaste costume or a sexy… anything. I like my Samhain strange, hallucinatory. The fucking Christmas celebrations of Krampus & Black Pete in Austria are infinitely more terrifying than October 31st in North America.
I wanted to make a raven mask but got as far as pressing my face into a tinfoil template when I realized I wasn’t going to have enough time. That said, a few years ago I whipped out a crow mask in under an hour so this isn’t a real excuse.
A homage to my all time favorite: King Diamond, or Nattefrost of Carpathian Forest! I started to get excited then remembered I’d thrown out all my corpse paint make-up since the last time I’d wore it. I don’t wear make up otherwise. I couldn’t be bothered buying more.
I actually plan to hang out in box office all night with Lisa. Wearing a mask would make me kind of useless at helping patrons through. The theme this year is based on the 1940’s radio drama The Whistler. Corpse face doesn’t really meld. I’ll go low key, wear a cloak and quietly acknowledge the wondrous and unfathomable darkness on my own.
What have I been doing other than getting my shit together for All Hallows Eve?