The goal of the crew is to pursue the art of human body suspension in a safe, sane and sanitary manner. Our Mojo is Backwards. Our Chi is Off-Kilter. We wander our life road and know that somethings wrong; pulled to extremity and finding equilibrium; peace found in the ragged and torn; a precious puncture and ageless moments in movement. This searing trail of visceral exploration leads through the
battle-weary flesh, through the illusionist ego, cascading into the unfathomable depths of immateriality. This path must be sought out and trod with open eyes and hardened tenacity. Fear of a nihilistic confirmation must be faced. The void may hold not but empty questions, but just maybe the flicker fast glimpse beyond. The road leads to discovery or scar tissue. Either is more acceptable than a naive skin cloaking a terror shod skeleton. We lead to break barriers, but twist and writhe at stability. We seek the new; reinvention and rebirth; taking back the malformed identity. We dance to this widdershins walpurgis, this backwards beltane. We walk the road and then beyond faith, one way or the other, we know.
