Out of all the festivals I’ve attended, there’s one that has made a very special and profound impact on me. That festival is Lightning in a Bottle.
No matter how many times you attend the same festival or rave, you never forget your first. But that would be a massive understatement when it comes to the experience that was my first Lightning in a Bottle at Buena Vista Lake in Kern County, California. The festival itself made a profound impact on me on a personal level — but looking back at it as I prepare to return, it almost seems like divine intervention, as if the universe had stepped in to give me something it knew that I needed in that moment on a soul level.
That’s the beauty of the genuine experience of festivals and what this community means, and it’s especially true about LIB. You walk in with what you have and wherever you are in life, and you somehow leave with so much more. And in turn, the outside world seems much lighter, brighter, and better for it.
Between my camping group, the music, and the experiences, It was magical.
Going back to what I said earlier about divine intervention: Being a raver since 2010, I had wanted to go to and was very eager to attend LIB since I first heard of the festival. But whatever it was, whether it be my own life circumstances, or even a worldwide pandemic (Like, really?!), it just never worked out. In hindsight, I can’t help but look back and feel grateful that the universe brought me to it at the perfect time.
In 2022, I was in denial about the nearing end of my long-term relationship. I even remember I fought with my at-the-time partner just a week before heading to LIB, and we even nearly decided not to go altogether. I won’t get into the details of couple’s arguments because ew! But I will say, speaking for myself, that if I had to describe “me” at that time, I would feel a lot of sadness and sympathy. I was desperately seeking validation outside of myself, severely disconnected from my identity and autonomy. My confidence, self-worth, and overall mental health were at a very low point.
But when the universe wants something for you, I truly believe it’s going to come through, and this destined experience was in the making since 2021, when I was at a venue in Santa Barbara seeing OPIUO. I was standing in the outdoor area before the headline set started, and that’s where I met my new friend, Edwin. I’m pretty sure we started talking because I complimented his cool mask, which I found out he hand-drew and designed himself (shout out to Reawakened Designs!).
After that night, we stayed in touch, and when we found out we were all going to LIB, he invited us to join his camp. It was a camp that, after that festival weekend, would bring me some amazing friendships within and outside of the rave community.
A group chat quickly started before then. From what I could tell at the moment, my friend planned to drive with one of his friends, and they knew another group, who knew another group, who knew another group — I’m sure you get the gist. And the plan was to meet off the side of the road to all caravan into the festival together. From the first group chat messages to meeting in person, it was apparent that we were a chaotic but insanely fun bunch.
Let go and let live, and get the heck out of your own way.
I’ll be honest: I was having a really hard time being in the “now” when we first got to camp. As I said before, and I’m sure you can relate to this if you’ve been there, but nearing the end of a relationship and still attending a festival together is no easy feat. That’s not to say I didn’t have an amazing time with the person who would soon become my ex, but for context, I feel it’s important to include that detail in terms of where my head and confidence were at walking into LIB.
After we set up camp and pregamed, we all made our way into the festival grounds to hit the lake. I remember passing The Giving Tree Art Car on our way in and beaming at how insanely cool it was. A couple of awesome girls from our camp brought paddle boards, so we were all taking turns hanging out on those and floating around on our sloth and unicorn floaties. After that, we explored the festival some more. I noticed as time went on that I was starting to relax, lean into the experience a lot more, and let go and let live.
Our group was absolutely bonkers, and I can truly say I love them. We definitely made it a point to see OPIUO and High Step Society together, but it became less about catching specific sets and more about just wandering and enjoying all the sights to see.
From stumbling into the Grand Artique and getting a poi lightshow from my friend Wes while banjos played to dancing like absolute weirdos at Martian Circus, there was no shortage of adventures to be had. Even just talking, cooking, and laughing together at the camp felt incredibly special. Our camp group chat still exists to this day, and some of my most meaningful friendships came about from that weekend. We have done road trips to Red Rocks, hit shows in LA together, and Edwin even hosts backyard movie nights from time to time.
Outside of my group, there were so many moments that felt synchronistic and needed. For instance, I was walking back to my camp only to hear “Is that Danae?!” and found out that my friend Jessica (who I have grown so close to since LIB and consider one of my best friends) and her boyfriend were camped right next to us. She’s a stylist and has the coolest rave fashion ever. At one point, I witnessed her slowly but surely morph into what I can only describe as a grandmother wook moth lady goddess as the night went on, which will forever be a core memory of mine.
Another fun moment involved me floating carefree on the lake on my inflatable sloth, when the wind took me away and bumped me right into a friend from high school who I hadn’t seen in years. Like, what are the odds?
I also had the chance to go wander the festival on my own. I ran to see Max Cooper and cried when he played “Perpetual Motion” as soon as I made it to the stage. I also got to see Four Tet, because if you know me, you know I will never miss his sets.
My other favorite sets and moments of the weekend were singing and dancing at Glass Animals — a band who is really near and dear to my heart — going absolutely nuts to LSDREAM and CloZee, and catching one of my all-time favs UM… at The Stacks. Another very special moment to me was experiencing LIGHTCODE by LSDREAM. It was my first time doing breathwork, and it had me in tears. The release was indescribable.
Life doesn’t stop. So however you can, don’t stop dancing.
When the opportunity to cover the festival arose, I had so much hesitancy due to (yet again — because does it really ever stop?) life circumstances. But between people hyping me up, and me coming across a video on Instagram from audible_484 about him attending Coachella despite life life-ing, I felt that same strong tug from the universe telling me that this is exactly what I needed right now.
If you’ve made it this far, I just want to say: Thank you for reading about my silly adventure and strolling down memory lane with me. As I sit here writing this, I can tell you, that life still isn’t exactly how I planned or where I wanted it to be. But between the impactful friendships I’ve made at and and outside of LIB, finding my way back to self-confidence and autonomy, and overall, just showing up for and loving myself more, I can say that it makes dealing with the real world a lot easier. I’ve even full sent it and camped at festivals like Nocturnal Wonderland by myself, and I drove alone to EDC Las Vegas last year. I truly believe this stems from my first LIB; I’ve become so much braver and confident since that very special weekend.
So if life is dragging you down right now, just know that you’re really not alone, as much as it may feel that way. And if you’ve been on the fence about hitting a festival, especially if it’s LIB, please go for it and do it for yourself if you can. If not a festival — because, I get it, this economy sucks — lean on your local venues, promoters, and shows. Whatever you do, don’t stop dancing or smiling, because there’s so much life to live, especially on the dancefloor.
