I have had numerous adventures in my life.. and, yes, I am choosing to call them all adventures because you get to choose how you frame your experience and therefore, with no ‘woo woo’ necessary, bend and shape your reality. Nothing happens to me, everything happens for me and everything always works out in the end… Often at the last possible moment, but thats part of the excitement. With that said, however, the past 5 weeks (give or take a few days) has been one of the most amazing adventures of my life.. It started with passion.. Unrequited love that was finally returned, or so I thought.. but just as with every great love story, there was more going on than I was meant to be aware of. (*Pro-Tip: if you are going to formulate a plot against your lover, don’t discuss it out loud over the phone.. the walls are always thinner that you imagine.) So, like many a heros journey before mine, I hatched a scheme of my own.. not against the woman I loved more deeply than words can say, a love more magical than the music of nature as the wind plays the forest like a flute on crisp spring morning.. I never have, never will, and never could do anything to intentionally harm her, regardless of the extent and visciousness of her betrayal.. My plan was escape. I packed what I could and what I valued most (besides her) and when the time was right: I threw it all in my car and under the cover of nights dark blanket I was off.. No plan for what to do next, as I’d just learned from my love to not make plans out loud over the phone lest she overhear as I did. I also could not stay with family or friends as I did not want to drag anyone into some intense and possibly dangerous, both physically and legally, situation.. Especially since they had all expressed their concern previously. I had let love blind me to the reality of the situation for so long, I felt almost as though if the betrayal I was warned of.. repeatedly.. were to come to pass that I would allow it as proof of my love, and that somehow by allowing it to unfold I would prevent it. Luckily my wits returned before the other shoe dropped. I slept in parking lots at first, then I was able to make a campground my home while I searched for evidence.. for some motive for what was done to us. I collected information and cross referenced, utilizing my skills in forensic accounting to reconstruct and examine what was going on. I looked at money because, and if you didn’t already know – it saddens me to be the one to tell you, it is always about money. Always. I had all of the pieces but they just wouldn’t fit.. until I said something, out loud to myself as I often do..”The only way everything makes sense is if she was in on it from the beginning and I was the mark from the moment she first called me asking for my help almost 2 years ago..” ..I stood there in shocked silence as the one thing I held to be true, that she would never do this to me, crumbled like a sandcastle in a hurricane.. I had been giving her updates on everything I found as I found it. She knew everything I knew, including my location, except the part where I had figured out that she wasn’t a victim with me but working with others to actively bring me harm and financial ruin. That night after an interesting encounter with “campers” that had no tent, built no fire, had no lights.. save an IR night vision flood light they were watching me with. (Thanks, HAMBot, for teaching me that night vision lights, invisible to the naked eye, glow INTENSELY when photographed with a digital camera) And with that I was off, once again, and I had to go where no one knew I could possibly go, where no one would ever begin to guess I would consider as a destination. I pulled up my email and the answer was literally directly in front of my face “Reminder for CAMP WONKRU 2026”.. An event I had applied to perform at, did not get booked for, but was offered the opportunity to volunteer as to still be involved.. I had about 15 hours till the gates were scheduled to open. The timing could not have been more perfect. I made my way to the New Jersey Pine Barons, the magical empty hole in the state with the highest population density in the nation, questioning the nature of reality and talking to God for the first time since I met him 16 years ago. Traffic delayed me and I arrived nearly 2 hours later than I’d planned, however, due to rain I was greated at the gate by a handful of volunteers with their cars parked neatly in rows while they huddled together under a 10×10 EZ-up to escape the rain, The gentleman sitting on the cooler offered me a beer, as the others made small talk, “were you here last year?” “No, this is my first festival or EDM event ever” (Every time I heard those words I gave them a Jason Theory trinket, for promotion and to welcome them to the extended rave family) We hung out all afternoon and evening as the crowd at the gate grew. Each new addition coming in with introductions. I gave this tiny little girl a hoodie as she wasn’t dressed for polite society, much less the rain, she offered to return it at one point, but I explained that not only was it still necessary as the rain was replaced by a chilled wind, but I gave it to her. It was hers now. At the gate was where I met Johnny (aka HoneyBun), who has become a dear friend of mine in the weeks since, but we got along so well that I had to explain to my other new friends “Oh, we didn’t come together.. we just met at the gate.. like.. yesterday”.. it was around 10 or 11pm whe they finally opened the gates and my first task as volunteer was to assist anyone who needed help with their tents. I helped the guy who gave me the beer to set up his tent where he would be cooking all weekend, I offered to help others who declined, the I ran into Johnny again who could use my assistance to set up his giant multi-story tree house hammock. Once the construction of his home was complete, I threw my tiny hammock between some nearby trees and the weekend began. The next morning there seemed to be a bit of confusion around the volunteers and exactly where to meet and what all of our jobs were. Johnny and I took it upon ourselves to begin organizing the volunteers we could find as we tried to get our bearings and determine where we were supposed to be. For our efforts and with my background in doing events, while the other volunteers were labeled with bright yellow volunteer shirts & assigned to ‘Decorations’, Johnny and I were assigned to assist with lights and sound. After helping the projection mapping artist for our assigned stage, we made our way back to our campsite where we met Ish(an installation artist at the event)and Hat, whom I also have maintained contact and have developed a friendship and working relationship with as professionals in this space in the weeks since. Many of my friends from the scene were booked for this event but they were very busy with their stages and I was very busy dancing and meeting new friends, and even finding some time to play a little music at renegade stages throughout the event. {Bill, you look so different with a beard, I literally did not recognize you, and when someone from the Jungle Tings tent came out and accurately guessed my age based off my dancing style, I said “You must know Bill, he’s my boy from back when he was Billy Basshead, can you tell him Jason Theory says ‘hello!’” and they looked at me like I was crazy. I digress.} I met so many others it would be nearly impossible to list them all and I wouldn’t want to leave any out accidentally and others I am planning on working with and have to keep it hush hush till events are announced and flyers come out, but throughout the weekend our little crew from the 10×10 from the gate on day 1 grew into something akin to a family, with a million memories more valuable than anything I left behind when I first went on the run. Like the intervention where I thought we were still talking about my man’s constant worry over his ex, not his excessive use of Xanax, so when asked if there was anything I’d like to add I said, iconically, “F#@% B¡%@#€$, Get Money.” Or myself drinking on an empty stomach and spilling the beans about my own situation and crying on Hat’s shoulder, mourning a love that never existed and forgiving myself for being so naive and easily manipulated. Everything about my life changed that weekend. I dialed in and got the DJ bookings that seemed to allude me before. I connected with my business partner and took responsibility for all of the things I was NOT doing that I knew I needed to do and reaffirmed my commitment to our vision. I traveled and played many other events across the mid-Atlantic region until I could finally sneak across the Maryland state line and go to court and exonerate myself and then began the process of fighting back, reclaiming my house as my own, and preparing to sell it so I can move to a metropolitan area where a Live Painting Artist/DJ and entrepreneur actually has opportunities for growth.. Finally able to let go of my attachment to the house I’ve crushed myself with debt to keep, because I discovered a place (temporary, as all things are) at CAMP WONKRU that was more home than my house ever was.