Woodford

Where to begin with this cacophonic mish mash of memories that slew around my brain like some tangential rainbow monster? What that even a question? Woodford is, or was, or has been, one of the greatest, most social, fulfilling, enjoyable experiences of my life thus far. Which apparently doesn't mean much any more, because I seem to say the same about which whatever community based experience I have just wiggled my way from. It has all been beautiful, beginning, it seems with Vipassana in August last year. A place to which I will soon return if the heavens will it. So yes, back to Woodford. How do I begin? I feel to start at the beginning and carve my way through in chronological order would be futile and laborious. What is needed it some kind of shotgun approach, where I spray my brain across this luminous page and let the experiences fall where they may.

Fuck. Anne. Kare. Sad and sitting alone, tired bones from lifting duck boards all day and tired heart from attachment. Lesson learned. Forget. Dance to Nahko and Medicine for the People with the young fiery haired and hearted Aida. Woe sung from my lips to the tune of miscellaneous powder and Sticky Fingers. Some kind of bluey lament as my heart sings of sorrow and regret. Getting down with Aida. Bodies synced immediately. Surprised at the ease with which we fall into each other's rhythm. Getting drunk. Dropping like it's hot. Sophia dragging the girl away only to have her return. Running past the gates into the new year's burning with Joy, the girl with the huge smile, kaleidoscope eyes who for some reason doesn't like to be looked at. Dancing a jig to The East Pointers in front of thousands of people gathered on a hill. Somewhere we weren't quite meant to be, and I as conspicuous as humanly possibly in a bright red dress among a code of black and white. Feel like I'm in Schindler's list. lols. Setup evening by the Duck tree. Smoking cigarettes with the crew, meandering around. Rainbow dance in the early hours by the lake. Climbing the tree with a cup of tea to contemplate life. Olly and Mark. Cool dudes in the tree. Angry moody mornings, glowering at Wolfgang's never ending strings of infantile dick jokes. Laughing with the boys as we lay down floors. Singing with Jorda. Keeping the boy bemused. Sex. Hidden. Slipping away in the darkness with no further words spoken. Dark midnight liaisons. Flirting with every girl in sight. Smiles. Eye contact. Funny faces. Deep voice. The sheer adorability of El Nino. Boobs. Ass. Cat. Ty. Lily. Bob. A camp filled with Bobert's friends. Always looking around, swagging, bouncing, dancing. Apparently people seem to think I'm happy all the time. It depends who I'm looking at. Some people just make me smile. Waking up sweating. Trying to sleep to the thump of Dubhai2Dublin. Cat Empire. Oh Cat Empire. Such dance. Much fun. Beautiful Aida. Josh. Alex. Intense eyes. Slight discomfort at how well we know we know each other. Plus I feel weird about having some unspecified thing with his sister. Sitting on the counter of the Duck. Meeting constantly just the two of us. Wanderers. "What do you want to do tonight?" "I want to be with you." "I just had the most vigorous make out session." "What with Dan?" "Ew no." "I want to make out with someone." I think I want to kiss you. Something like that, in passing. Ears perk. Girls throwing pears like basketballs. I wholeheartedly disapprove. Bloody kids. Fall behind the Duck counter. Sit. "What are you thinking about right now?" I'm wondering whether I want to kiss you. "Well make up your mind." Finger to chin. Girl attacks face. Am not Italian. Kiss. Stop. You kiss softly she says. You kiss hard I say. She teases me for having a small mouth. Again, softer this time. I stroke her back. I applaud her. Laugh. It was better that time - you followed. I think you're used to leading. She says she thinks she has a small crush on me. I say I think I have a little crush on her. Nice when it works out like that, isn't it. We sit there, hidden behind the counter eating stolen corn chips. Ducks come past. "You know this is the Duck right?" "Sure do, but don't worry, we're not doing anything untoward." Sat in a half cuddle talking. About what who knows. We walk back to camp, elbow in elbow. "What are you thinking?" I was wondering if you needed to say goodbye to your Italian. "Ew god no. He was very jealous that I was talking to you the other night by the way." I feel good. I feel a slight hesitation in her step. I see boys ahead. Wordlessly, I turn to the right. She says thank you. We walk up the hill to Cloudland talking about whether I can fight and some other things I don't remember. Think about whether a spooning is in order. Not sex. Too young. At her tent she says this is my tent. Goodnight. Kiss lips then forehead. Go to bed. Step back a few weeks to where I am outside the duck waiting for my turn to step on stage. I wrote a poem that day. Broodily thinking while I lay duck boards searching for the right words and verses. four pages of jibber jabber trying to find something real. Heebie jeebie shit. Talk of zombies apocalypses and getting my crossbow. Eventually I sat on my own, towards the end of the day, looking out over the festival from Woodflooria. I remember back to the day before, where Anne had come and sit behind me by the tree while I was talking to Layla and Cody. She told me about the things she likes. Running her hands through grains. The smell of fresh cut grass. The rain. A poem appears on the page, grows legs and begins to run. I wonder if I can remember:

Fresh cut grass
The sound of rain
The sift of grain through fingers
I sit and think of clever things to say
While birds meander through the breeze
upon a summers day
I wonder why I hide my smile
when lilacs splash the moon
a child inside is curling
like a
peach
I know that doesn't make much sense
but the truth is hard to reach
impossible to teach
It lies along the spiral lines of leaves fall'n
from the trees
If we could stop our mind's for a moment we might see
a tiny tiny glimpse
of nature's endless subtlety.

Something like that. The fifth line is wrong and I gave her the original so I don't know how it actually went any more. One of those one-time things. I remember being surprised at the gravity and depth of my voice reformed by the stage's speakers. Steady despite the nerves. Step back further. Anne is drunk. When she arrives she walks up to me and keeps saying "oh no. Oh no. Dan I'm so drunk. Ahh I'm going to hate myself in the morning." She repeats then we wander separate ways, later meeting on the dance floor. We all dance like drug struck animals. Jule and Dodgy deserve a particular mention. Especially Jule. God damn. We dance we dance until the music ends. I go back afterwards to find my flash light. She wanders in shortly afterwards, apparently doing the same. Neither of us can find them. She says she'll be back. I take a token look around then lean my butt against a table to roll a cigarette. I finish rolling and she isn't back, so I pull it apart and roll again. She gets back and puts her arms and I'm like "oh hey." She puts her arms around my waist and begins to lament. "Oh Dan I'm so sorry! I wish I could make you happy. But I'm a bad person." "You seem ok to me." I smile and look into her eyes. It's been a good night and I am happy, genuinely content with where we are at. I think she sees this and it makes it harder. It is easier to push away jealousy and need. "I'm a bad person! My heart is dead." "You're fine Anne, don't worry. It's all good." Looks into my eyes. Sees the love, I think. "Ahhhh! I'm a player Dan! I'm a player." I can still picture and hear that moment so perfectly. The German accent full with drama and gin. It makes me smile. "Dan - I'm a player!!" Hue.