The other week, an old friend from the flow community encouraged me to visit Venice Glow. This would be my first time hanging out with the Venice Flow Arts community since last year. With my full time work days and night time adult education, I haven’t had many opportunities to enjoy Flow Arts like I normally would. Since starting summer break, I’ve been taking advantage of my time after work to engage those parts of myself again. I’m glad my friend called me out! I reconnected with a handful of flowmies that evening and had fun. Even though I don’t attend regularly, my presence is remembered and happily welcomed.
During my visit, I met another flow artist: someone I haven’t spoken to before. They introduced themselves because they saw me using a Levi-Wand. In my experiences, it’s rare to meet other people who actively use this prop. The person showed me their modified version, with an LED Poi attached to it. I asked them for a demonstration, so I could see it in motion. He called it “Levi-Poi” or “Poi-Wand”, as the props anchor one another on a shared string. “I’m not very good at it; I’m just experimenting for now,” he said. I remember a time when I combined props and explored flow too. I encouraged him to move in a way that suits him.
Later, I detangled the tension string from my wand and thought it might be fun to switch props with this person. They could explore long-string movements and I could try out the Levi-Poi. He struggled with it at first, unsure how to use the wand. I gave some quick tutorials so he could find his bearings. Then, he started moving the wand in a way I have never seen it before. Fast, rapid tosses around the body; over his arms and head; behind the back and from side to side. He went into a frenzy and swung the prop so hard I was afraid he might hit someone. I applauded his effort, even moments when it bounced against the ground.
The instant he released it from his grip and headed back toward me, the body of the wand looked crooked. I offered to help untangle the long string and saw a crack formed down the middle. “Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!” He said. As I gently untied the knots of the long string, the body of the wand broke in half right before me … The bare LED strip and wires were exposed, with the tension string being the only fiber holding it together. I sighed a little, trying to comprehend it. “Maybe it can be fixed with super glue,” I said. “I feel so bad! We can trade if you want.” He replied. “Oh. Are you sure?”
He was quick to apologize and as a kind gesture, he offered his wand in return. This is the first time I’ve ever done a trade in the flow community - I don’t know how often this kind of thing happens, but connecting in this way lessened some of the hurt I felt. The wands appeared to be the same size and weight, so the loss felt minimal. I grabbed a small set of clippers to cut the string from my now broken glitch wand. The person frantically looked around his camp to find a pair of scissors and snip the string from his prop. We parted ways shortly after; I tucked away the long string and the mystery wand with a mushroom marker.
When I got home that night, I started looking online to invest in a new LED wand. I found out the company that made the “glitch” variant removed this product from their website, among others. Since the time that I started learning how to use levitation wands, props have had some technical upgrades. I imagine only a few wands remain in the market now, due to the decline in its popularity. Losing access to the Glitch upset me; this wand served as the “first” of many in my flow-arts journey. My first LED flow toy, my first Long-String, my first prop at a Festival. So many milestones made.
It almost feels stupid putting so much importance on a flow prop - So why did the loss hurt that much? I hardly reacted when I saw my wand had been damaged, but reflecting on the trade awakened other memories. I started feeling a deeper sense of loss. Previously, I expressed similar pains in therapy. Another moment in time where something I valued was carelessly broken and taken away. Curiosity bested me: I was naive and felt powerless to stop them. Burying the thorn that pierced me was not enough to heal the wound.
Not everyone offers kindness in return, but the flow artist I met in community had the decency to apologize after they realized the damage they had done. If they hadn’t done that, I’m not sure that I’d be comfortable letting anyone touch my props ever again. Perhaps it’s a gentle reminder that releasing is an act of liberating my own attachments as well. In retrospect, I’m proud that I handled this situation with patience and grace. Letting go of the idea that someone shattered part of my identity, while being open to new possibilities and growth.
During my visit, I met another flow artist: someone I haven’t spoken to before. They introduced themselves because they saw me using a Levi-Wand. In my experiences, it’s rare to meet other people who actively use this prop. The person showed me their modified version, with an LED Poi attached to it. I asked them for a demonstration, so I could see it in motion. He called it “Levi-Poi” or “Poi-Wand”, as the props anchor one another on a shared string. “I’m not very good at it; I’m just experimenting for now,” he said. I remember a time when I combined props and explored flow too. I encouraged him to move in a way that suits him.
Later, I detangled the tension string from my wand and thought it might be fun to switch props with this person. They could explore long-string movements and I could try out the Levi-Poi. He struggled with it at first, unsure how to use the wand. I gave some quick tutorials so he could find his bearings. Then, he started moving the wand in a way I have never seen it before. Fast, rapid tosses around the body; over his arms and head; behind the back and from side to side. He went into a frenzy and swung the prop so hard I was afraid he might hit someone. I applauded his effort, even moments when it bounced against the ground.
The instant he released it from his grip and headed back toward me, the body of the wand looked crooked. I offered to help untangle the long string and saw a crack formed down the middle. “Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!” He said. As I gently untied the knots of the long string, the body of the wand broke in half right before me … The bare LED strip and wires were exposed, with the tension string being the only fiber holding it together. I sighed a little, trying to comprehend it. “Maybe it can be fixed with super glue,” I said. “I feel so bad! We can trade if you want.” He replied. “Oh. Are you sure?”
He was quick to apologize and as a kind gesture, he offered his wand in return. This is the first time I’ve ever done a trade in the flow community - I don’t know how often this kind of thing happens, but connecting in this way lessened some of the hurt I felt. The wands appeared to be the same size and weight, so the loss felt minimal. I grabbed a small set of clippers to cut the string from my now broken glitch wand. The person frantically looked around his camp to find a pair of scissors and snip the string from his prop. We parted ways shortly after; I tucked away the long string and the mystery wand with a mushroom marker.
When I got home that night, I started looking online to invest in a new LED wand. I found out the company that made the “glitch” variant removed this product from their website, among others. Since the time that I started learning how to use levitation wands, props have had some technical upgrades. I imagine only a few wands remain in the market now, due to the decline in its popularity. Losing access to the Glitch upset me; this wand served as the “first” of many in my flow-arts journey. My first LED flow toy, my first Long-String, my first prop at a Festival. So many milestones made.
It almost feels stupid putting so much importance on a flow prop - So why did the loss hurt that much? I hardly reacted when I saw my wand had been damaged, but reflecting on the trade awakened other memories. I started feeling a deeper sense of loss. Previously, I expressed similar pains in therapy. Another moment in time where something I valued was carelessly broken and taken away. Curiosity bested me: I was naive and felt powerless to stop them. Burying the thorn that pierced me was not enough to heal the wound.
Not everyone offers kindness in return, but the flow artist I met in community had the decency to apologize after they realized the damage they had done. If they hadn’t done that, I’m not sure that I’d be comfortable letting anyone touch my props ever again. Perhaps it’s a gentle reminder that releasing is an act of liberating my own attachments as well. In retrospect, I’m proud that I handled this situation with patience and grace. Letting go of the idea that someone shattered part of my identity, while being open to new possibilities and growth.
~
Rave and Wilted
Trial End Waved
Variant Welded
Levi Wand Trade
Rave and Wilted
Trial End Waved
Variant Welded
Levi Wand Trade
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