1 of 9
Photograph by Thomas Crone
2 of 9
Photograph by Thomas Crone
3 of 9
Photograph by Thomas Crone
4 of 9
Photograph by Thomas Crone
5 of 9
Photograph by Thomas Crone
6 of 9
Photograph by Thomas Crone
7 of 9
Photograph by Thomas Crone
8 of 9
Photograph by Thomas Crone
9 of 9
Photograph by Thomas Crone
Living and working near Tower Grove Park allows me to experience the joys of that special place on a regular basis. This past weekend, my park usage was amplified four-fold through twice-a-day-visits to the Pagan Picnic, an annual event held in the park’s northeast quadrant.
With one of the outer roads turned into a bazaar, the Pagan Picnic experience is a mix of commerce with artistic and faith concerns. For sale: drums, books, drums, rainsticks, clothing (from tie-dye to gothic), drums, candles, incense, tribal masks, ice cream, herbs and drums. Every few booths, a personal experience is offered, from Reiki and chair massages to Tarot readings and palmistry. While many of the vendors are local, others travel to the event, and a colorful, little tent city lines the back of the booth walk.
Just beyond them, pushing a little deeper into the park, the occasional workshop’s held under a canopy, often based around non-mainstream faith traditions or healing forms. One grass field traditionally enjoys a weekend-long larping tourney, with role-players engaged in short, pitched battles, foam and lightweight weaponry crashing down on the heads and legs of well-heeled competitors. Music’s a staple and is typically based around acoustic songwriters and drum groups; on Saturday, though, the main stage was held down by Tuatha Dea, a large, percussion-heavy, electro-acoustic group that sang of watchtowers and Celtic maidens and coming storms. Totally, totally appropriate stuff.
My own commerce at the event was minimal: I bought a used copy of Cloud-Hidden: Whereabouts Unknown, a memoir by the mystic philosopher Alan Watts. The book came in an individual, plastic sandwich baggie, as did a flyer for Spirit’s Edge, a local “Shamonial Temple and Mystery School.” Cool. But you don’t have to buy anything, or be Pagan, to enjoy the Pagan Picnic.
Maybe the best thing about the annual event is the people watching; that’s totally free, and you’re going to come across folks from a really curious blend of disciplines and tribes, with that seldom-seen blend of flowing-garb Ren Faire vets alongside leather-clad Futurists. (Hat tip, by the way, to those who rocked the multi-layered, head-to-toe black gear this weekend, with temps cracking 90 in the shade.) A few wandered the park with pets-on-arm, be they lizards or rats. Others sported swords and tails. Most simply came as they were, and on a hot summer’s weekend, that meant an impromptu tattoo convention breaking loose. What an array of ink!
The best moments may’ve come when people unfamiliar with the event wandered through, whether running or walking. (Cycles were stopped at each end.) These folks brought the most wide-eyed wonder, their heads on a swivel, as St. Louis’ most interesting gathering space for the weekend enveloped them.
Here’s to next year.
