• Regional VIC Summary

  • Recent Topics

  • Upcoming Events

    No upcoming events found
  • Blog Entries

    • Izzy_Indigo
      By Izzy_Indigo in In The Midnight Lands
         0
      CHAPTER 6.

      "COUCH DANCING," I mumbled happily, slinging my inflatable couch off my back where it landed with a plop in the mud. I grinned at my fellow trancers who all grinned back at me, evidently appreciating the sheer brilliance of my idea.
      It was two in the morning and I hadn’t slept for forty hours, the afternoon a disconnected set of joyous fragments I can’t put to any chronology. Flashes of Kathy with laughter in her eyes telling me Darius had gone la-la-land: being mandated to grab him, ground him: riding out with a posse in response;
      of sympathising with Joseph, who’d twisted his ankle and couldn't dance and didn't seem too upset, blazing spliff after spliff with Cam; and of conspiring in the Food Tent with Gary: we would storm Ibiza in July, and he would make the track: I see you baby shaking that ass, shaking that ass, his own.
      And flashes of coming around a curl in the trees to see Jackie in the distance in the Trance Zone - she who we knew as dirty old Jack because she kept up with the lads - but stunning at this moment, an outline on an elevation, with wide beatific smile, dreamy closed eyes, rapturous upraised hands, clouds and crowd and DJ behind. Jackie, who later would lose a pill in a haystack and utter the immortal words, “That's going to be one fucking happy cow.”
      It was two in the morning and I was on my way up for the third time and I’d just humped my inflatable couch halfway across the Downs - one mention by Darius of our long-running joke to couch dance in the Trance Zone enough to set me off on a spangled mission . . .
      * * * * This blog is a story. Each post picks up from the last.
      If you are new, start at the bottom with post 1 and then work your way up. 

      * * * *
      Enjoying what you're reading? Please take the time to follow the blog, like and comment.
      Your support means a lot.
      Also, sharing is caring. 

      * * * *
    • Izzy_Indigo
      By Izzy_Indigo in In The Midnight Lands
         4
      CHAPTER 1. 

      SAM'S WORRIED stare filled my camcorder's viewfinder. He answered my question with one of his own. "But how do you know, Izz?"
      "Because we're part of something, bro," I replied. "Can't you feel it? I mean, just look."
      I panned away from him, out over the lookout's edge. Out and over and down to where the Riwaka Valley shimmered under the sharp summer sun like some great, sea-colored serpent. It was a view to intoxicate and I drank it in, was drunk on it, and when I returned to Sam, Joseph was at his side, arm around his shoulder.
      Joseph's eyebrows - brown and luxurious, the mink fur of eyebrows - waggled, as only Joseph's eyebrows could. He said, "Yeah, Sam, can't you feel it?"
      Sam fended him away. "I’ll tell you what I'm feeling,” he retorted. “I'm feeling like that taxi driver just took off with all of our stuff."
      Sam had a point. Ten minutes before, on his own initiative, our taxi driver had pulled into the Hawkes Lookout car park and insisted we check out the view.
      To sonnets of praise for where three national parks met Joseph, Sam, Tim and I were shooed out of the van, and soon after, still loaded with our gear, we watched as the van drove away. "Popping into my mates around the corner for a cuppa," the driver said. "No worries," we replied and waved goodbye. Then, we'd gone to check out the view.
      The way Sam said it now it did sound kind of, ahh, stupid.
      But then, in those late days of 1999, after driving eight hours in convoy the length of New Zealand's North Island - a raucous convoy complete with blinker signals for toilet, food and spliff breaks - two heroically blue days in Nelson - one of which I passed out in a park, after sampling my stash, to the general delight of my crew - before the temporary separation, reduction to the four of us now, in the taxi van, for the final drive in:
      after all that, well, we were so amped to be on the last stage of our journey, so full of our youthful almighties and so sure of our righteous positivity, it simply didn't register anyone might want to steal all of our stuff.
      Other people's maybe, but not ours.
      I said, "Sam that guy loved yarning to us. He'll be back."
      "Hell, he'd probably come with us if we asked," Joseph added.
      Sam snorted. “Well I hope you’re right. Because I’m not going to be the one telling the cops we left everything with a stranger - let that stranger drive off - and then went off on a hike to sight see."
      We laughed. We weren't worried.
      Life was too glorious to us then to worry.
      Joseph said, "Give him half-an-hour, bro." He wrapped his arm around Sam's shoulder again. "Come on, let’s go have a chuff."
      * * * *
      This blog is a story. Each post picks up from the last.
      If you are new, start at the bottom with post 1 and then work your way up. 

      * * * *
      Enjoying what you're reading? Please take the time to follow the blog, like and comment.
      Your support means a lot.
      Also, sharing is caring. 

      * * * *
       
    • Izzy_Indigo
      By Izzy_Indigo in In The Midnight Lands
         0
      NEAR MIDDAY Darius and Kathy found us.
      Then Joseph. Then Sam, rested and unrepentant. We caught up, and I heard they had found Tim, Darius telling the story.
      "You know how he's been trying to get with Sandra? Well he finally sold her the idea they could create this big "Millennium memory” and that's where they went, the nuttas. They didn’t even wait for the countdown to finish."
      “I guess your first time rolling . . .”
      “Maybe, but I’m glad it wasn’t my tent, the dirty olds. They're back there now probably still at it. And Tim reckoned on their way they got interviewed by the news!”
      “The news?”
      “Yeah. He said they were out doing a piece on the celebrations.”
      We pictured this: pictured all that could go wrong with giving your views to the country whilst E'ed up for the first time . . . and horny. We laughed loud and long. But Tim came across like a boss, like an electronic warrior of the Shaky Isles, and his and Sandra's was the longest clip they played on the news that night.
      Darius also brought word that Dan and Jacob had left - I guessed from sore jaws, not enough gum - as had hundreds of others. Unbeknownst to us, The Gathering was now a major news story in the real world, which, having survived the Y2K bug, had turned its attention to the two dozen hypothermia cases shipped from the festival to an emergency centre in Motueka. Evacuation of the entire site had even been considered, but civil defence didn't have the protocols for moving thousands of spangled and coming down ravers off the top of a remote, waterlogged hill.
      So, blissfully ignorant of how close it all came to ending, the hard core were allowed to stay on.
      We got our second night on the Downs.
      * * * *
      This blog is a story. Each post picks up from the last. If you are new, start at the bottom with post 1 and then work your way up. 

      * * * *
      Enjoying what you're reading? Please take the time to follow the blog, like and comment.
      Your support means a lot.
      Also, sharing is caring. 

      * * * *
    • Izzy_Indigo
      By Izzy_Indigo in In The Midnight Lands
         7
      JOSEPH LED Sam to one corner of the lookout to pack a cone. I switched off my camcorder and stepped to the edge beside Tim, who stared into the distance.   Tim had his arms braced against the railing and a thoughtful look on his cherubic face as though he pondered, pondered the big questions, God and life, the unimaginables of the universe - though in reality, I knew, he likely pondered his plans for finally getting into Sandra’s pants at the festival.
      I said, "Can you believe we're nearly there?"
      "I know, Izz. It's about to get cra-azy."
      We exchanged smug looks. The sun streamed, the wind strained. A fierce joy jumped liquid-electric between us.
      For that morning Hawkes Lookout wasn’t just the gatekeeper to some wild valley. That morning it was the gatekeeper to our generation's dream. One we’d waited for our entire lives. That Prince had shot to superstardom popping about.
      New Year's Eve 1999 . . . and the party that went along with it.
      Except where we stood, what we were on the verge of now, wasn’t any old tinselled and tumbledown celebration: not swaying shoulder to shoulder in some dilapidated club, not wine and cheese, families and fireworks.
      No, ours was the most famous outdoor dance festival in Aotearoa, world-renowned - at least we thought so - camping among three hundred DJs spread across six dance arenas for forty-eight continuous, wondrous hours, and all on the Canaan Downs, a remote hilltop on the tip of New Zealand's South Island.
      Just up the road it lay, G2K. The Gathering 2000.
      It was a dream, this festival, even its website thought so, telling us: The Gathering is a dream, a dream of hope. A dream there is a place where we can exist without violence or hate, where our differences can unite instead of push us apart, where together we can create, experience, live, moments of perfection.
      Moments of perfection. Needless to say my hazily conceived but ardently felt anticipation ran high, roaring through me like a river carving a canyon. It was my first year in the dance scene, when all was still bright with the compelling light of newness.
      It was my first outdoor electronica festival - a sorcerous thing in my imaginings - an otherworldly place of all-day-and-night music and movement and jubilation under infinite, cheering skies. It was my first millennium, my one, my only, my lifetime dream.
      And that's before the rumours.
      It was said The Gathering was one of the safest places in the world if the Y2K bug struck. While missiles launched and planes tumbled, we would be off-the-grid and isolated, stomping it out. Awesome. 
      It was said The Gathering had made Oprah’s top ten list of things to do for the millennium, and that it had sold out months in advance with tickets going as far afield as Brazil and Finland.
      It was even said the local skinheads planned to descend on the festival en masse on the stroke of millennial midnight - anger in their hearts, violence on their minds - identifying all the loved up Gatherers in the dark, presumably, by the sheer volume of sparkly things adorning their bodies.
      Now, standing on that lookout, all this orbited me how I imagined a solar system might, like satellites. Curving and turning.
      But even so, though I knew it all, every last rumour, had listened avidly to all of my friends’ stories and spent hours poring over the website and mirror-danced often to the Gathering CD - and the trees, these trees are wicked - but even so, even so, I still did not know what to expect, not really, not even then, standing next to Tim on that lookout, a few short kilometres away, the luminous morning of December the 30th 1999.
      Except that it would suck, at the start of the grandest adventure of my life, if that taxi driver didn't come back with all of our stuff.
      * * * *
      This blog is a story. Each post picks up from the last.
      If you are new, start at the bottom with post 1 and then work your way up. 

      * * * *
      Enjoying what you're reading? Please take the time to follow the blog, like and comment.
      Your support means a lot.
      Also, sharing is caring. 

      * * * *
       
    • Izzy_Indigo
      By Izzy_Indigo in In The Midnight Lands
         0
      BLONDE, SLIM and with bambi blue eyes,

      frail shoulders covered by a white cardigan, with a sweet little mouth, now formed in a perfect O, as part of a lost look to match my own, we rushed together, embracing.
      We'd only met a day before but were overjoyed to find each other, as only two trancers on the other side of an elevated evening with no prospect of sleep anytime soon could be.
      Now we were a duet.
      "Ha-hah!" I cried with new found (make that cute girl found) enthusiasm. "Cassy! Wicked. Where have you been?"
      "Ah - I'm not . . . The tran-trance zone."
      She was all exquisite crystal as she met my gaze, her irises consumed by black holes. I felt the X stop, seize. It wanted to don shining armour and mount a white charger, to assail into the very heart of them. To backstroke through them. I felt a surge of energy, a bushfire bright running before the wind, a deep-seated swell that -
      No. No swelling. (At least not yet.)
      Be cool.
      Be c-o-o-l.
      "You look cold,” I offered. “Were you at the Trance Zone?"
      “Uh-huh. I was dancing and I lost everyone. I turned and nobody was there."
      Her pupils widened further, if that was possible. She looked spooked and I longed to hug her - maybe I should confess my love? - but restrained myself.
      Be cool.
      "Well you've got me now. Want to head to the Food Tent and warm up?"
      (Warm . . . in the Indigo glow.)
      She nodded and we set out, slogging our way through a haze more and more evident as the light came: a steamy whiteness that clung to the Downs and made it otherworldly, made it the type of place in which you might see Visigoths or Elves or Druids - which, given our current trajectory, we might have seen anyway. We found the Food Tent and a spot at the back beside the barista, and there we sat and stayed. We sipped multiple coffees; we babbled and murmured; we were tender; we were entangled; and we enjoyed the old school set of rap being spun.
      * * * *
      This blog is a story. Each post picks up from the last. If you are new, start at the bottom with post 1 and then work your way up. 

      * * * *
      Enjoying what you're reading? Please take the time to follow the blog, like and comment.
      Your support means a lot.
      Also, sharing is caring. 

      * * * *
  • Who's Online   0 Members, 0 Anonymous, 35 Guests (See full list)

    There are no registered users currently online

  • Who Was Online

    34 members have been online recently
    •  AdamMadd 
    • alexkate93
    • AnnaBodanna
    • audiophile
    • Bangarangwang
    • burchill712
    • Clark
    • Evie
    • Frances
    • gdawg13
    • gone4good
    • hannahrosina
    •  infraDread 
    • it
    • Izzy_Indigo
    • Jay
    • Kangu
    • Kaytland
    • liberabit
    • Littleloz
    • marc.blues1
    • navjeet.vaid
    • Netty
    • nicolgrasso
    • olaf
    • pip_kerr
    • Pooface12343
    • Rainer
    • rokatu
    • Rosie
    • Sertac
    • SteffBell
    • T-Bone
    • zlatko.tkalcic
Add Your Event for FREE


  • Birthdays this month

    • bgrey97

      bgrey97 0

      Member
      Joined:
      Last active:
    • C.W4

      C.W4 0

      Member
      Joined:
      Last active:
    • Cams

      Cams 0

      Member
      Joined:
      Last active:
    • Claudia

      Claudia 0

      Member
      Joined:
      Last active:
    • Juzzy

      Juzzy 0

      Member
      Joined:
      Last active:
    • Normanc

      Normanc 0

      Member
      Joined:
      Last active: