Reflecting on the White Party Palm Springs is like experiencing a hot new remix of moments and memories, scenes that affirm all the ways my gays bring it – to the dancefloor, to each other, and to life.
Every circuit party has its own alchemy. The music and the mood have everything to do with the experience, but so do the people that form your peripheral vision and your perspective under the disco ball. When fabulous friends create your party-within-a-party, everything is bliss.
The comfort of knowing you’ll see sincere smiles and familiar faces counts for a lot when words are drowned in beats. Little gestures, happy coincidences, and silly scenes are the foundation of what often turn out to be long-term relationships. These relationships can seem fleeting and shallow to the uninitiated, but love on the dancefloor runs deep and wide.
We may not even know one another’s names, but we know that our hearts beat to the same tribal drum. I know I’d never survive a weekend marathon like the White Party without my nearest and dearest.
There’s the water angels that deliver hydration for those (like myself) that don’t have the good sense to occasionally leave the dancefloor. There’s the shutterbugs that document our dreams, populating our profiles with glimpses of glamour. There’s the screamers (like me), along with the fist-pumpers and twirlers, that move our spirits and keep us bouncing. (This is where Brasilians are essential!).
Then there’s the nonverbal embrace from those who sidle up into your groove or let you sidle up into theirs, content with just swaying and snuggling from one song to the next. And there’s also the reliables, the trustworthy souls who confirm their commitment by buying tickets in advance, or carrying your keys, or holding you up when your energy or swirl can’t do it for you.
All are true friends, with big hearts and genuine intentions.
My addiction to dance is what drives me to drag all my friends to the dancefloor weekend after weekend, and it’s what brought me back to the White Party for the third year in a row. Never wanting to miss a beat and always wanting to support the DJs and promoters who fuel my circuit fantasies is why I can’t ever say no.
I hope that part of what I’m bringing to the party is gratitude for the special roles my San Framily fill. And I’m especially thankful that when the party is over and the glitter has (mostly) washed off, my circuit sisters are still present and real in my “real” life, helping me find balance and happy harmony as I search for new and inspiring ways to love my gays.