We are off into the festival.
We started an “overheard at the festival” group just as, from within the bubble, this festival and the clientele kinda puncture themselves on purpose.
“It’s funny cos the most hardcore place is the bubble tent” was one man this afternoon walking away from a slightly earnest we choir mistress.
“Would you mind stopping burning that next to the kids,” “It’s wood.”
“He told me he had a system with roulette and he kept on putting his arm around me and then he lost like sixty quid in a few minute.”
“I realised after I did it I thought oh God I’ve just given the ADHD kid caffeine and now I guess I’ve got to deal with it.”
“No she was the prime minister’s aide though so she was in a position to know…” (this mostly remarkable as it was a conversation at 4am walking past our tents.
“Yeah I wasn’t gonna do it and then I saw the twenny five k so I just … kissed everyone in the room.” “Everyone?” “Ya everyone.” There is no context in which this one makes sense…
“Oh these aren’t mushrooms these are fertility pills.”
These were just a few. It’s a fertile ground.
Tomorrow I’ll get to know people around the festival better doing my readings with Alice’s deck, just doing my way to add value, and find a connectivity at the same time. It’s a lovely practice, and well worn in these woods.
…
Trying to publish. Internet very choppy now. Send in the hounds.
AlBarclay 