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)
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)
posted by Nate Mecham at 10:27 PM
5 Comments:
Ah. Rabbit Stix. How I loved it! It was almost a renewing of yourself in a sense. No worries, not caring and going back to the basics... glorious Equinox! :)
I am a born again granola with a sidetwist of cinammon. diggit far brother nate.
that last one was by me btw.
-cory
Zion! That was beautiful. You did this for real? The picture in my mind is not in congruance with where you are.
Yes, I did this for real.
I don't think this particular form of zion would be accepted in most rexburg circles. We had to go out to the sticks.
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