Stones Rising Part I -- Stone and Fire
Sep. 4th, 2003 02:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
badseed1980Okay, so here is the first installment of my review of Stones Rising.
The experience began before the festival, on Tuesday evening. After being so excited I could hardly pay attention to work all day, I left the office and met Morgan at the Riverside T station. We headed out to his parents' place in Milford. It was a little odd meeting them, especially given a) the non-relationship nature of our relationship and b) the parents' disapproval of his libertine attitudes. But they did seem to be very nice people, and we had a wonderful dinner at a very cute restaurant. We stayed the night there, in separate rooms of course, and got on our way early in the morning.
On Wednesday, most of the day was spent in the car. I picked up some ephedra on the way to Pennsylvania because I was dog-tired. We got lost on the New York State Thruway and went a total of about 70 miles out of our way. Still, the drive was an adventure. I hadn't been that way before, and it was something new.
We got to the Farm on Wednesday afternoon, with plenty of daylight left to set up the tents. First, though, we went into the farmhouse to register. We picked up our giveaway bundles. These held wrappings and the like for four gifts we were supposed to give away at different times. One was for "family", a person we already knew well. One was for "tribe", a person we'd just met, didn't know yet, or would like to know better. One was for the "land", a gift to the farm itself with the purpose of helping the land in some way. One was for the "world", something we wanted to give to the world at large that would be burnt as an offering. I already had the first two gifts made and ready, and knew what I'd do for the others. I also picked up a bottle of mead made on the Farm and some candles to put on our campsite's altar. By this time I was very excited to be there, but hadn't had a chance to really feel how special the place was.
We got to the campsite in the middle of a swamp. Etain was already there. We set up two massive tents and a pavillion, and got all our stuff into them. It was great breathing the clean air and seeing all the green around me. After we got installed, Morgan showed me around the farm. We went to the fire circle, and met his friends J---, aka Firesinger, and Fox. A little girl was there too, stark naked, happily sticking small candles in the sand around the edge of the circle. We were offered some bourbon, which we tasted appreciatively while watching the little girl prance about. I was amazed at how *healthy* the little girl was, something that struck me as true of all the kids there. They had no hang-ups, about clothes or people or sharing, and were wonderfully cool and relaxed.
Then we saw the stones. There are not words to describe the feeling. The stones were "biggest of all, huge, old, and tall" as Tolkein said. They were a bridge between now and once upon a time. They were a solid manifestation of everything I believed. They were crystallized sweat, tears, love, determination, and faith. Grey and silent, yet singing their presence out to the world, they were the heart of the Farm and the people on it.
We went to dinner that night, and were served some delicious Indian food on our mess kit plates. After that was the preparatory workshop for the evening's ritual. A woman in red vinyl trousers, a top hat, and tails talked to us about how Santeros honour their ancestors, and about how we'd get in touch with our ancestors that night in an ecstatic, Westernized version of a Santero ceremony. During the ritual, we sang "roots" music, gospel and blues, and drummers played while veves were sparked off. The powder was damp, but we felt the power nonetheless. I played my zills with the drummers, making it hard to light my candle for the ancestors, but I managed it.
After the ritual, we all went to drum circle. Firesinger had a roaring blaze going pretty quickly, true to his name. I was tired, but when the drummers got started with their heart-thumping rhythms, my feet carried me out to the circle of their own accord. I could smell the toasty, spicy smell of the woodsmoke, and my bare feet pounded the sand as my body fell into the familiar moves of hips, shoulders, arms, and legs. I began to gaze into the fire as I danced, becoming hypnotized by the fierce golden-red embers that seemed to come alive as I watched, rippling with fiery hues. I thought of the mythical salamanders, creatures of fire, and envied them their life amidst the flames that I couldn't touch.
As I danced, I felt myself slipping into trance almost imperceptibly. I vaguely realized that I was no longer tired, and that my body seemed to be moving without me. My mind was entirely with the fire and the drums. I also became aware that I was not dancing alone. Oh, others were in the circle dancing too, but there seemed to be someone dancing behind or inside me, a funny overlapping feeling. When I moved my arms, I had the sensation of many arms moving with them. Who was it? I thought of Siva, god of the cleansing and renewing destruction in Hindu myth, of his ecstatic dance. Maybe he joined me that night. I'm not sure. At one point, when it was getting late, the fire's structure collapsed. It didn't go out, but the sudden shift brought me back to myself suddenly, and I felt I was awakening from a strange dream. I shook myself and went to a bench for a drink. After a while, I felt my "dance partner" urge me back to the fire. I danced a bit more, but the energy was gone that had possessed me before. I decided to let the whole thing out in one great rush, and fell to the ground, pivoting my legs as I did to tumble over backwards and come back up to my knees. The energy I had gathered before was no longer mine: I had given it to the entity who had danced with me, and I felt his appreciation. I went back to the bench, and sat for a while with Morgan before we finally headed back to the campsite. He welcomed me to the Farm three times that day, and each time I realized more and more why he loved that place.
The experience began before the festival, on Tuesday evening. After being so excited I could hardly pay attention to work all day, I left the office and met Morgan at the Riverside T station. We headed out to his parents' place in Milford. It was a little odd meeting them, especially given a) the non-relationship nature of our relationship and b) the parents' disapproval of his libertine attitudes. But they did seem to be very nice people, and we had a wonderful dinner at a very cute restaurant. We stayed the night there, in separate rooms of course, and got on our way early in the morning.
On Wednesday, most of the day was spent in the car. I picked up some ephedra on the way to Pennsylvania because I was dog-tired. We got lost on the New York State Thruway and went a total of about 70 miles out of our way. Still, the drive was an adventure. I hadn't been that way before, and it was something new.
We got to the Farm on Wednesday afternoon, with plenty of daylight left to set up the tents. First, though, we went into the farmhouse to register. We picked up our giveaway bundles. These held wrappings and the like for four gifts we were supposed to give away at different times. One was for "family", a person we already knew well. One was for "tribe", a person we'd just met, didn't know yet, or would like to know better. One was for the "land", a gift to the farm itself with the purpose of helping the land in some way. One was for the "world", something we wanted to give to the world at large that would be burnt as an offering. I already had the first two gifts made and ready, and knew what I'd do for the others. I also picked up a bottle of mead made on the Farm and some candles to put on our campsite's altar. By this time I was very excited to be there, but hadn't had a chance to really feel how special the place was.
We got to the campsite in the middle of a swamp. Etain was already there. We set up two massive tents and a pavillion, and got all our stuff into them. It was great breathing the clean air and seeing all the green around me. After we got installed, Morgan showed me around the farm. We went to the fire circle, and met his friends J---, aka Firesinger, and Fox. A little girl was there too, stark naked, happily sticking small candles in the sand around the edge of the circle. We were offered some bourbon, which we tasted appreciatively while watching the little girl prance about. I was amazed at how *healthy* the little girl was, something that struck me as true of all the kids there. They had no hang-ups, about clothes or people or sharing, and were wonderfully cool and relaxed.
Then we saw the stones. There are not words to describe the feeling. The stones were "biggest of all, huge, old, and tall" as Tolkein said. They were a bridge between now and once upon a time. They were a solid manifestation of everything I believed. They were crystallized sweat, tears, love, determination, and faith. Grey and silent, yet singing their presence out to the world, they were the heart of the Farm and the people on it.
We went to dinner that night, and were served some delicious Indian food on our mess kit plates. After that was the preparatory workshop for the evening's ritual. A woman in red vinyl trousers, a top hat, and tails talked to us about how Santeros honour their ancestors, and about how we'd get in touch with our ancestors that night in an ecstatic, Westernized version of a Santero ceremony. During the ritual, we sang "roots" music, gospel and blues, and drummers played while veves were sparked off. The powder was damp, but we felt the power nonetheless. I played my zills with the drummers, making it hard to light my candle for the ancestors, but I managed it.
After the ritual, we all went to drum circle. Firesinger had a roaring blaze going pretty quickly, true to his name. I was tired, but when the drummers got started with their heart-thumping rhythms, my feet carried me out to the circle of their own accord. I could smell the toasty, spicy smell of the woodsmoke, and my bare feet pounded the sand as my body fell into the familiar moves of hips, shoulders, arms, and legs. I began to gaze into the fire as I danced, becoming hypnotized by the fierce golden-red embers that seemed to come alive as I watched, rippling with fiery hues. I thought of the mythical salamanders, creatures of fire, and envied them their life amidst the flames that I couldn't touch.
As I danced, I felt myself slipping into trance almost imperceptibly. I vaguely realized that I was no longer tired, and that my body seemed to be moving without me. My mind was entirely with the fire and the drums. I also became aware that I was not dancing alone. Oh, others were in the circle dancing too, but there seemed to be someone dancing behind or inside me, a funny overlapping feeling. When I moved my arms, I had the sensation of many arms moving with them. Who was it? I thought of Siva, god of the cleansing and renewing destruction in Hindu myth, of his ecstatic dance. Maybe he joined me that night. I'm not sure. At one point, when it was getting late, the fire's structure collapsed. It didn't go out, but the sudden shift brought me back to myself suddenly, and I felt I was awakening from a strange dream. I shook myself and went to a bench for a drink. After a while, I felt my "dance partner" urge me back to the fire. I danced a bit more, but the energy was gone that had possessed me before. I decided to let the whole thing out in one great rush, and fell to the ground, pivoting my legs as I did to tumble over backwards and come back up to my knees. The energy I had gathered before was no longer mine: I had given it to the entity who had danced with me, and I felt his appreciation. I went back to the bench, and sat for a while with Morgan before we finally headed back to the campsite. He welcomed me to the Farm three times that day, and each time I realized more and more why he loved that place.
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Date: 2003-09-04 02:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-09-05 08:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-09-05 09:26 am (UTC)I'm sure you already know this, but everyone likes having their ego stroked, so let me just say that you are an absolutely amazing writer, and the world is lucky that you chose writing as a career. :) I also wanted to say that your spirit always amazes me. There is something so unique and vibrant about you. You appreciate so much more on a basic, intuitive, natural level than so many of the spiritually jaded of our generation. I always love how you are so mature and discriminating intellectually, but you have such an open, passionate, and I'd even say innocent spirit that shines so bright in a world of souls that hardly remember true Joy (I think Deena might agree with me that you are one of the people who appreciates Joy the ways she sees her.) In any case, I'm glad there are people in the world like you.
Now, back to the mundane world of medical bills . . .
*HUGS*
-Renee
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Date: 2003-09-05 10:29 am (UTC)I chose writing as a career, but it didn't choose me. I have a job with no creative writing involved. :(