9-22-06

I celebrated the equinox dancing by firelight under the libra moon.
Every year the granolas migrate from the woods and glades to gather in Plano, Idaho for a week long event called Rabbit Sticks. Throughout the week granolas teach each other skills and crafts that one who doesn't believe in commerce might find neccesary. On friday night they had a big bash to put the week to bed. The fire pit was about 2 feet deep, 3 feet wide, 15 feet long, and encompassed by an elliptical ring of dirt that was sufficiently trodden as the night progressed. A chorus of hand made drums palpitated to the cadence of the earth, and people danced. They danced in hand sewn skins and loin cloths, with bare feet and painted faces. In the circle things moved slower than I expected, and it took me a moment to get the feel of the group. Depending on where you were the drumming changed. Here the beat was intricate. Here it was calm. Here the emphasis was later. All kept the time. The fire was hot so that spinning while dancing was necessary to avoid burning on your fire side. My breathing soon fell in line with the drums and I wished that it was louder. The music was the pulse of life. One life formed from many. It was tribal zion.

see Tribal Zion (the pictures)

Identity is a dynamic thing. Who you think you are can abruptly discompose.
A change of scenery. I am carving out my name again.
Slowly. More timid than careful. Is that me?
I talked with a beautiful girl today until I was called away. I came back but she was gone.
It's best to stay away from edges and bridges. I get uneasy in the fray.
I make an unaffected stab at becoming what I want.
And pressure builds. I build pressure. I watch it steal into my unsure places.
Confidence is sacred. Doubts can be mistaken and Faith is slippery.
With my hands, I am carving out my name.

Summer '06.

and so it ends.