Jack Wasielwski

Husks are best mutated with raves.  

ok lol. 

You’ve been parsing your way through the forest for fifteen minutes, and no one has stopped you yet. Are you late? Maybe. Or maybe it’s been happening forever. Your boots crunch through pine needles and old leaves, feeling wet and dry at the same time. The air hums thick. 140 BPM climbs louder… louder. 

Welcome to the sonic bath, where bodies co-regulate, distanced from their high-pressure daily programs. It’s sweaty and absurd, yet deliberate. It might not make sense yet, but that’s okay. You’re new! The important thing is you made it. 

Husk Rave is a para-fictional Appalachian forest rave, an ideal proving ground for portable, modular constructions. At its center, the DJ deck rests on an altar of aluminum extrusions, snaking cables, and 3D-printed hardware. Light enough to carry, holy enough to matter. Archetypal figures tend the space: the_dj_priest cloaked in black, the_hum_anchor fused to a subwoofer in prayer, or the_clip_angel documenting from the roof of an RV. 

Here, the forest floor is more than a dance arena; it's a site for communal torpor management, forging bonds that last in husked terrains. You may arrive as a newcomer but stay long enough and you might be building the next session of mass with us.