A bronzed demon baby spins amidst arrays of clouded skies, pavement, and Gallagher-obsessed comics. The periodicity of adults in swinging motion — face to face, a panoply of fear and fun. Nowhere to plop yer butts but curbs and your own own good heels. But who would want to sit when you’ve got Church Fire screeching the dim sun away and a F.U.N.H.O.U.S.E. of visual DIY delights to gingerly step your cautious toes through. Chunks of smashed watermelon spray out in milliseconds toward a Tent of Oddities and Curiosities, a pro wrestling match, and sexy art in a moving van. Kids blowing smoke in each other’s faces, dancing like square waves and 60’s wavy lines over zebra shadows and chalk scribbles. Outside looking in, and inside looking in at dead, adorned critters floating along a melody on a keyboard of alcohol, doll heads, and musical wizardry. Super novae of rosy cheeks and firecracker laughter lines explode behind thick daubs of flowing hair, swirling like bubbles in honey and wine that sits and steams to sweet glaze over two hot days before Labor Day. Twerking hard, or hardly twerking. A bright and giddy sun king zigs and zags over a landscape of neon snails, peep holes, and PUNKetry, spitting lines and splitting ears. The cackles, the screams, the songs, the streams of twisted candied creativity: this is Temple Tantrum.

 

For more information, please visit http://tantrumfest.com/