wind upend

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fellow in a lurid tabard, frog shower cap (again)… and a tree
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stewarding, sunday, buddhafield weekender…. a day of near perpetual rain, the whole smorgasboard gamut, full pelt raindrops through to the softest faze of drizzle
peaceful on shift, sheltering beneath this majestic beech… a fallen down standing up tree!… once so tall, now so long!
a world wind upended, 90 degrees, exposed roots, yet some still manage to wriggle down to push up branches… earth, loam juice to plump out leaves
a peaceful place somewhere on the edge… ‘gate at the far end of live-ins, just above slope’, my snappy walkie talkie identifier
i am an admirer of margins, sublime of the liminal… forgotten land, often the most fertile
hogweed, on steroids, this vast british bamboo… coils of brambles, thick as my arm, spikes that gouge
a liliputian within this world, overgrown, a writhe and tussle of senses, smells, colours, an orchestra… bindweed flower, a bright, white trumpet.. sweet woodbine, pong of honeysuckle ukelele?
fennel as dendrite fractal… hairy moss like dirty bathwater stains the trunk of a tree… splurge of lichen mandala
bend down, to see the lopped beech branches fashioned into the shape of an opening
portal to another land, guarded by a single proud, vigilant nettle… gatekeeper
realm of enchantment… this after, whilst on shift, long ambient chats with chantal… lucidity.. land of the fae, where colours are brighter, songs both more mournful, yet stirring
this realm is always here, hugging us like a shadow… sometimes, at the midday of rational thought, clenched tight and close, almost invisible
yet, in a wester-ing sunset light, it flickers, seems to stretch out far across valley, immense in landscape
except, flip side, a world wind upended, here is but the shadow of there… yearn surrender, relax, lapse, fall back into the honeyed realm

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articulate beauty, the word, but a cardinal direction always with a playful warmth… teeter edge of pomposity, po faced, a man with both a moustache and a manifesto!
ooops… woken up, head full of the jumble of word drool, just a brief jotting down, ha
at my sisters, for some very pleasant rest, headed back to festie later this morning
despite the gloop of mud, its been a laugh so far… many fabulous people… a chance to dance!… guess you gotta kiss a lot of frogs
anyway… hurrah for festies, land, connection!

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reply to Al: totes! be brill to see you guys… ha, one year amma in kerala, the next a field of buddhas xx

bring wellies, obvs, forecast is good, but a quagmire of mud will take a while to dry out!

it’ll dry out… plus only half the number of folks, so won’t be too bad… tho always best to bring sturdy clobber as well as your sunshine frocks! x

festie face

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festie face! like some sepia wee and tea stained old master portrait, and an impressive chameleon blending with the wall
a couple of consecutive long long 5am nights dancing like a nutter at bimble down the road
managed to neglect to take a single snap whilst there, yet great thanks to all the bonkers folk and co-boogiers
you guys were beautiful!! even if i can barely summon any names? a suprisingly healthy buddhafield contingent!… glitter, glory and sweat galore
sadly didn’t make it back this arvo, storms and perpetual snoozing
did manage one good dawn time deed picking a gaggle of trashed 18 year old gatecrashers up off the entrance road and taking them home to piddinghoe, beneath the grogginess, they were lovely… ooh we’ve most certainly all been there

… and mostly unrelated, always loved this botticelli, glimpsed whilst posting

hare

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hare… i saw at hare at buddhafield, the first time i have ever met this astonishing, beautiful beast
i was working, visiting our team in the top car park at buddhafield, stepped away into the next field for a pee
perusing the view, out across the dark green of the woods, to the tree strewn fields and the blackdown hills there beyond… blakean, majestic, a mythic vision of british landscape
what? what on earth is that?? some sort of kangaroo? the size of a small dog, a lazy yet purposeful lollop strut as it came towards me
i had always thought, hare is but a bunny on steroids, yet no, not at all, a completely different energy, none of the rabbits twitchy flight
he stopped and looked, pugilist ugly face, before, as if with a shrug, continued on his way… a creature of intent, you know when you have been considered by a hare!
yes, the sleek long attentive ears, when called upon, a burst of impossible speed, helter skelter hare, with his darting quirk jinx flight!
but actually, pugnacious, just as likely to stand his ground and fight…. hare
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awww buddhafield, realm of bliss, laughter and joy, a treat being in the field! … gentle segue into my traditional, sprawling annual post… buddhafield my high summer honeymoon, a romance with life itself, a love song to the endless transcendent beauty of the ephemeral world of form… ha… all the things, most of the people i love in one place, in nature
a brief but busy week, of curiosity and the warmth of gorgeous hugs…. sounds cheesy, i know, but its true… yes, sleep deprivation, being outside, mild exposure, induces a state of perpetual euphoria, but so, so much more than that!
it has taken about a decade of going every year to get ‘there’… ever changing, usually deepening connection
on arrival peacefully sitting under the dripping leaf canopy of a huge old beech tree, next to a near empty pasture, waiting for the rain to stop… eyes on the sky, gauging whether it would be dry enough, long enough, to put up a tent?

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the joyful hodge podge of inumerable small events:
making magical fire from a bow and notched wood, summoning a bright burst of welcome warm flame, with focus, effort… the help of the teachers, dandeion fluff, bracken… and the power of the elements themselves…
i sat with a love, chai and cake, in the teepee at pachamammas, subtle music, a fire, the close comforting babble of other folks chat, watching the gentle unfolding of a long languorous sunset… conjuring, coaxing the beauty of impossible colours, rummaged as if from the dressing up box of the sky and earth itself!

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3 communal rousing and varied singing workshops, ‘freedom is coming, oh yes i know’ bellowed aloud to the heavens!
looking deeply into the eyes of strangers… one soul… no longer strangers
superb vegan crew food grub, guzzling whilst slurping herbal tea, guffaw laughing much of the time
stewarding, rocking the gate in the busy welcoming hours of wednesday, every other car an old friend to kiss, the other vehicles with folk to gabble cheerfully away too… new friends
in the quieter hours nattering nonsense with our lovely steward team, them thar in the ticket office and security
else late at night in buddhafield east, singing along to my fave dylan song with an old school banjo playing hippy, being massaged, dancing arms flailing, whilst supine on the floor with the groovy boogie-ers high in the upright realm above

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kirtan, puja and ritual… followed closely by the latino calypso vibe of dende… wriggled through to the front, where the fun always is, flung about, dance sweaty madness!
late late at night, getting home to my tent, gawping up at the stars and the moon above, my neighbour, with whom i have never spoken comes home, we cuddle for half an hour, satellites, a shooting star to wish on, whispering to each other, her about aliens, me about the different energies of the stars and moon… very buddhafield
oh so so many more memories to wallow in, a thousand festivals blossoming in one
how to anchor these truths deep within ourselves? engaging body, mind, speech, heart and soul… only when our hearts are open, buoyed up by the infectious glee of each others tender company could this ever be possible
the thrill of a gentle, soft, slow, strong hug… there is no rush… here, in your arms, not always, but yes, sometimes.. ha!… beyond time, beyond space, tumble into the immense, eternal rapture of the heart… one love, thank you x

pics by Kit Williams, from masquerade… and Rima Staines

http://www.rimastaines.com

Mahasukha/ Xavier Rudd Spirit Bird… from midst the funky bass massive