Stick Boy.

Stick Boy

Stone circle drumming. Wow. Sat forward watching all the amazing wonder such sights and sounds. Bring bring a shiny few on pedal bikes. I’m pretty sure I can recall a lot of love for our campsite. Friends excited to show off the wooden dragon wallowing beneath the trees. Dragon stream dragon river. Well off we went and had a look dangling our toes in the warm daylight glow. As adventuring children of all ages explored.
So much vibration at the stone circle. Action. I remember a poignant moment, being, when on mushrooms, I think there were three of us maybe more, playing in and out and around the stones. The beautiful thing no matter how far away you were we could still communicate seamlessly. Easy peezy. In out and around the stones joining in the smiling energy. All sat as a trumpet player greeted the sunshine morning with a tune.
Do you remember the Wiccan girl with long black hair? Dark dress. That wanted to take the stones for a sacrifice with a chicken and her silver knife.
Ha ha.
I remember being around the hub bob stones
“Hey where’s Charlie?”
An amazing game of “where’s Charlie” oh of course there he is sat on top of a stone. That mushroom hat a dead alive give keep away toward – what a clue! Impossible, way farer out even then an excellent book of where’s Wally. Moments like this are more than true.
Catch a Fire.
Playing with burning sticks. Funny faces. Looking at all your beautiful colours. Wow flames flicker dancing lights on our muddy clothes. Beautiful people. Hee hee, clearly my memory recalls a magic scene. Two people just meeting. Crash. Playing with the mushroom fires changing emotions sparkling beam. Face of joy like a boy that’s just pulled off a funny trick with a plastic banana. One moment hooray for everything it’s all lovely, body language – face – hands – eyes.
There’s ways to turn Whey! Into complete facial free fall, nose dive, Eurgh! That’s disgusting get away all in one quick swoop. A head turn right to left. Eyes starting out staring at beauty swing across the scene like the ticking pendulum of a clock. Bringgg! Eurgh! The boy with the melted eye. Get away get away. Hands that moved and swayed were open circling with the love in motion. We were there you were there. Hands that were at peace exploring the sweet flowing air. Enjoying the touch of cloth embracing the wisps of wind hands in love with the enchanted world they had found.
Kaboomcha,
Suddenly turned into hands that screamed get away from me get away from me your face! Hands that pushed without touching. What a moment. In the way my eyes read the scene I could see that the curly haired boy, who’s eye looked like it had been melted upon the fire to ooze goo like a burnt out marshmallow on a stick, just wanted to chill somewhere, with some happy peaceful folk. Maybe hunker down and get a bit of love.
The boy with the melted face.
The poor boy who poked his eye out with a stick.
Once upon a time there was a poor little stick boy. Who melted his eye. The poor stick boy’s melty eye hurt he couldn’t really see. But he could tell from the reactions of all those around him that he was ugly and unwanted. The stick boy saw a fire surrounded by friendly people. Welcome home. All he wanted was a little love.
“is this the place for me”
Wrong. Get away get away. A change sudden in the trip. Joyful face sweeping as stick boy turns, face illuminated by the flickering flame of the trickster fire. Charlie’s turn and stick boys at the same time; two worlds strumming along to heady collisions collide. Stick boy reveals in one foul swoop his revolting melting eye. This is what causes Charlie’s face to drop in disgust body language screaming as loud as a ringing alarm bell get away get away.
Charlie is sent spinning out of space on a new trip, lay line man feel it in the lay line. Stick boy is left unwanted, unloved to sheepishly turn away and leave the flames, crackle pop sizzle the mushroom fires flame.
Doughnut!
Bacca and doughnut.
What a great name Bacca
Who was always eating doughnuts
So many doughnuts
That his name changed from Bacca
To Doughnut
Doughnut!
I love tripping on mushrooms, tiptoeing on mushrooms, flying walking running rushing stalling. The world becomes easier even in the way to move. Pure body flow. Especially in a crowd. See how the waves flow the way to go. Easy. Its like suddenly becoming a fish, and the air is turned to water, the crowd no longer bumps or bustles you, you easily pass on through, magic. Thoughts and actions become right. If you need a stick well hello below a stick appears. Pure flow. So easy to navigate muddy fields, crowded ways, its up to you whether to move fast or slow. Sweet mushrooms pure bliss smooth trips.
Chilling in the little garden watching the crowds walk on by at night. I love how mushrooms open up new areas. Forget about within your mind. I love the new areas they open in the world outside.
We were sat in the most chilled out beautiful little garden that was at the side of a pathway. In exactly the right way. Total comfort. I remember hearing people say wow what a beautiful little garden – or words to that effect. It was quite magical. We happened upon the garden like so many other beautiful things upon our way, and it was right to step inside and enjoy a while. I remember hearing someone else say – are you allowed to just step in and go inside the gardens - yes! Be brave souls feel free.
What a great trip. So many sights to see. I can’t even remember them now clearly but I remember the mood. Which was like a fantastic adventure, stumbling upon one amazement after another, no bumps no rush pure flow. Thank you.
Playing Frisbee in time to the pulsing music underneath the trees in the Glade, one beat throw next beat catch boom boom catch throw boom boom boom catch spin throw, Frisbee to the beat until sugar sugar smash. On the beat of the bass the Frisbee lands before the bar on the ground in the path of a giant man who steps, boom boom crack! The Frisbee is snapped in two. A collective group sigh before oh well, lets move on. It was another one of those follow the pole moments.
A man hurtling manically across the fields with a pole whilst shouting
“Follow the pole”
The crowd that chased after. Until the pole was seized by a security guard. Snapped in half. A collective sigh. For this was a moment that had been broken. One moment all that was was follow the pole then the pole was broken a collective sigh before the crowd eventual dispersed and people went on their ways.
“Follow the tree!”