Just put the rest of my Santa Cruz photos up, namely the the ones I took while attending my last Wednesday afternoon farmer’s market held in a parking lot downtown. I paid it a visit 3 out of 4 of the weeks I was in SC, and while it was never as exciting as the very first time again, I always got a fair amount of enjoyment from the beautiful, abundant produce, the happy social interactions and the extra stimulation provided by the adjoining free spirit jam session.
Free spirit jam session (not official name) involves the coming together of hippies, musicians and wanderers of varying denominations under the big tree in the parking lot, just past the last row of market tents. They come together to play non-stop percussion, to sit and drink and chat, to chill, and to share in some free food. It’s curiosity-arousing, humbling, fascinating and a bit uncomfortable all at the same time. Uncomfortable because they very clearly constitute a proud, thriving little community who aren’t necessarily going to be open to any random newcomer, and also because the juxtaposition of this group alongside the priviledged world of the market was truly like oil and water. Technically together but not combined, never combined. After taking photos of them I felt so conspicuous as I moved toward the lanes lined by white tents. I was going to now surround myself with tables laden with fresh fruit and vegetables, herbs, fish, meat, eggs, bread, honey; not to mention the stalls for fresh pasta, ready-made tofu meals, oysters, and indian food. All this abundance, but only for some.
The thumbnails for these photos are such a contrast to those of my wander around Pleasure Point; the former are busy with colour scattered liberally throughout them, the latter are calm and dominated by a pointed blue.