Sunday, May 13, 2012

Inner Monologue 5: Completing the Rites of Spring

I have more to say about Fitzgerald and the jazz age, but in the meantime I spent the weekend celebrating my college's annual end-of-year festival, which is aptly named Bacchanalia in honor of the original Greek tradition to the god Bacchus.

The Andrians (Bacchanalia), Titian 1525
We don't enter a trance-like state and rip a poet limb from limb (quite, there was some lawn moshing that got a bit violent), so our Bacchanalia is really nothing like the original...

On the lawn (I'm in white cotton), with my plaid homespun blanket, purchased from a sutler at Gettysburg.  Picture courtesy of my lovely friend KP. 
...well, it's maybe a little bit similar.

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