TOWARDS A sky billowing in the distance with upward-bound cloud we walked, keeping tight to the diamond-shaped ridge on our left. It was knotted with trees, their shadows crowded by many campsites.
All sheltered Gatherers settling within, the breeze pungent with cigarettes and blunts, loud with conversation and favoured electronica.
We sought an empty space that could accommodate the rest of our crew, maybe twenty or so still to come. A mixed group of funky guys and girls hanging as friends, which was still a wondrous thing to me then.
A crew I had met shortly after that first warehouse dance party - young, resonant, socially adroit, spiritually aware, as apt to discuss The Celestine Prophecy as an upcoming DJ - and living with an exhilarating verve and positivity, always something fun to do, house, club or dance party to go to, Wednesday to Sunday. The rhythm of their lives marked by the ever-present trance and dance and recreational drugs.
First world children.
Brought up in peace, bored, with no great cause to own, ya-yaa-ing on the picket line, no survival simplifications; only young and eager and horrified by the mindless hunger stretching forever before them, that svelte compulsion of many years, work and work and compete and buy and consume and get ahead - leave the others behind - fuck ‘em, right? - over the top boys, over the top - the me, me, ME of media, our spiritual destitution;
just a life-time ahead of being weighed and ranked, of being told who was better and why, that whole fucking rotten bullshit deal - rejected, because this was Peace, Love, Unity, and Respect, cuz - not the tarnished mainstream caricature but something beautiful, truly. Conscious. Lived and intended.
Peace. Love. Unity. Respect. It meant something then and still does now, cool cats doing cool things whose policy was betterment and inclusion.
My friends scions. I loved them with a fierce passion. They were simply the finest humans I’d ever known.
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