Viva Goth Vegas!

A few weeks ago, I took an impulsive trip to Las Vegas to see the Tim Burton exhibition at the Neon Museum. I dubbed it my Goth Vegas trip, and though I was in the Vegas area for less than 48 hours, what I experienced revitalized my creative spirit, filled me full of possibilities, and quite possibly changed the course of my life.

Yes, really.

Leaving Las Vegas

Full confession: I actually don’t like Las Vegas, and when I land at McCarran International Airport, my MO is to immediately grab a rental car and leave for a more swoon-worthy destination than the Strip. When I was last in town with my family, this meant a journey to Utah’s Zion National Park (do recommend). This time, I decided to see the Hoover Dam and the Valley of Fire.

Let’s start with the Hoover Dam. I grew up in northern Canada (hey, BC!) and that environment shaped my expectations of what a dam is. Think hydro-electric practicality in dull grays tucked into remote locales.

 

To drive down the road towards the Hoover Dam is to encounter an engineering marvel so profound it’s like you’ve landed in a real-life Middle Earth. The scope of the Mike O'Callaghan–Pat Tillman Memorial Bridge is jarring and epic, and the Hoover Dam itself is unlike any structure I’ve ever seen.

Photographs flatten the experience and fail to capture the breath-stealing wonder, so just add it to your bucket list and go, okay?

I wandered the site for a while, though I came on a day without formal tours of the dam itself. The sculptures and impressive architecture had strong art deco influences, and the site’s major attractions featured audio narration alongside plaques and photographs that provided historic and cultural context.

 

Honestly, I was awed by the whole.

To get to my next destination I traveled through Lake Mead State Park. Rolling through the desert vistas instead of charging down the main highway certainly amplified my enjoyment, and by the time I arrived at the Valley of Fire State Park, I’d absorbed a sweet peace that settles over me every time I’m out in nature.

 

We definitely don’t get that here in Chicago.

The Valley of Fire is named so for the bright red Aztec sandstone that covers most of the 40,000 acres. I felt like a flower destined to follow the sun as I made my way through a few of the trails. Visitors were sparse that day, and I felt I had all the desert to myself. Well, almost to myself – mountain goats were in frequent attendance (and per the petroglyphs, have been so for more than 4000 years).

It was here that I came home to myself. The grind of cities is hard and wears on me in ways I don’t wholly sense until I return to the quieter, more natural world. Maybe it’s the fact I grew up in towns where wild waited just outside my door, but I’ve never adjusted well to living in crowded places. Memories of my childhood – good parts I had long ago forgotten – flooded me as I settled back into my body and soul.

That evening, after a nap at my Airbnb, I went to New York New York Hotel and Casino to see the Cirque du Soleil show Zumanity, which I have wanted to see for many years. It was fun, but certainly not the acrobatic phenomenon I’ve come to expect from the shows. Still worth the price of admission, and a rather lovely way to end my first day in Vegas.

 

The next morning I woke up – completely pain-free – with time enough to put together a leisurely breakfast before I was due at the Neon Museum, the whole reason I was in Las Vegas at all.

I first heard about the Tim Burton exhibit more than a year ago, but I only remembered its existence (and my intention to go) a few weeks back when I saw one of my Instagram friends post photos from the installation.

 

Looking at her photos, I realized I needed to go.

 

Kismet was lovingly supportive of my desire, and each leg of my non-stop flight to Vegas from Chicago was only $46 with all the taxes etc. included. I found an inexpensive Airbnb, grabbed an affordable rental car reservation, and my trip was set. The ease with which I pulled these pieces together had a meant-to-be feeling to it.

 

After I planned an entire trip around seeing Tim Burton’s installation, you’d think I’d have an inkling about how much seeing his work in person would affect me. But the truth is, I had no idea.

I absolutely lost my mind.

 

It’s hard for me to articulate what it meant to see Burton’s work in person, even with time to reflect and digest all I saw and experienced. I discovered a kindred spirit that day, and more that, his work illuminated my own desires and hopes and sweetest, darkest heart.

The best art inspires others, and after I left the Neon Museum (arms full of every book and postcard they offered), I once again came home to my deepest, truest self. At peace in my body and my place in the world, I was dazzled and delighted beyond words.

 

It’s a weird place to be, because once you see how small you’ve made your world and how much more it and you could be, you have a choice to either examine your life and make the changes you need to be true to your purpose, or to button up and close down the potential for expansion in exchange for rote comfort and the known life.

 

I sat in the car and felt the weight of all my potential. I realized this short, impulsive trip – my extended Artist Date – was changing my life and would continue to do so long after I returned home.

And I still had an entire day ahead of me. I went back to the Strip to go mini-golfing on a Twilight Zone-themed course and then visited the Freemont Art District and bought a wild vintage purple suit jacket I can’t wait to wear around.

I napped in the early evening in preparation for my last event of the Goth Vegas trip: seeing Gwen Stefani at the Zappo’s Theatre. No Doubt was my first ever concert, and seeing Gwen Stefani perform again 24 years later was thrilling. It was the perfect conclusion to my Goth Vegas trip.

 

I flew out early the next morning, bursting with creative energy and ideas.

 

I don't want to go small, or sit down, or not try for my biggest dreams and most epic life. While I've been on the path towards making my art and writing a full-time, star-filled journey, this trip also made me realize what I had in mind was way too small considering all the possibilities before me. I have this one life to make it happen, and the best time to make that happen is now.

 

I left Nevada full of dreams so big it was like Possibility opened me up and poured stars inside.

 

I can’t wait to share with you what I’m going to do with it.