A Paean to Gaia Consort
“Put your feet to sacred land
Stamp a rhythm, lift your hands
Connect us to the earth and to the sky”*
This is a story about Gaia Consort at PolyCamp. I adore their music and have been to several concerts, but I’ve never seen them before at an outdoor performance. I was curious to see if the same vibrant energy that coalesces at their concerts would also be there in an outside space.
The afternoon was sunny and warm, and the shadows were just starting to lengthen, the air starting to cool, the sun dropping toward the horizon. About 30 minutes before the concert began, several rows of chairs and blankets were already set out in front of the stage. The band was doing a sound check up on a small, covered stage about six feet off the ground, beautiful batik prints draped along the front. The grass was long, lush and green, the mosquitoes were fearsome, and behind us was a huge stone circle. More people kept gathering with hugs and hellos. My boyfriend, leaving his seat between me and another sweetie, went to sit at the feet of another beloved for part of the concert.
After tuning up, the music started; immediately several people jumped up to dance. After a few minutes the film crew (three young English people) arrived and began filming. The smell of the grass was sweet and the sounds of the music even sweeter - like strawberries bursting juicily on your tongue and sending pleasure sparks to your brain.
Then more people began dancing. My, how they danced - I get goosebumps thinking about it. They laughed, and joined hands; they frolicked and twirled. They spun around, fringes of hair and clothing keeping spiraled time to the music. Some threw off their tops, some doffed everything, and then jumped and swayed some more.
A sense of exuberance began building among the dancers, spreading to those who were sitting and standing and swaying in time to the music, effervescent bubbles of pleasure glowing and tingling on skin and lips. The energy flowed, from the musicians on stage to the dancers, who gathered it up, wove it around and spun it out to those watching, who partook of it, drawing in a small bite and exhaling passion back out, a blessed communion of spirits. It was passed along and given back to the dancers who circled it around again and running inward together, flung it up into the sky, a shower of fireworks, dripping back down like water drops from a sprinkler held over a laughing child’s head.
I could see the eyes of the film crew get bigger as they tried to figure out what to film - the band, the audience or the dancers. As the songs continued to soar, they filmed the dancers coming together in a circle, winding in and out, laughing, faces shining. Then the dancers surrounded the camera and crew, running forward with loud whoops of joy. Willing to share their spirit not only with those there, but with future viewers on the other side of the camera. It was thrilling. It was lusty. It was love.
And for me, it was cathartic. For the first time in years, I felt no pain, no anguish, no sense of limitations. The walls of pain that have enclosed me for so long, opened up to give me a taste of freedom, of sweetness and delight. It was glorious.
I sat smiling, listening to the sensuous intertwining of the violin, viola and cello; the sight of ‘more Sue’ dancing and harmonizing with Chris’ bright vocals and sexy guitar rhythms, the drums throbbing underneath. Even the band having to replay part of a song, so the film crew could get some close-ups, was enjoyable. Afterward, with the sun gone, people wandered off to campsites and to more intimate gatherings.
The ecstatic energy that was shared freely that day, from amongst, within and between those present - both on stage and on the grass - created a unique union that existed for a brief, precious time. A collection of praise and dance and life that seemed sacred.
“We are the universe watching itself”*
Sacred also to the universe, to whatever cosmic consciousness that exists. For those not present, I can only say that it was life-affirming. It can be difficult these days not to focus on the negative, to push aside overwhelmingly crushing soul-sucking parts of existence. For those who are awake, it can be a cold, hard slog through a world seemingly becoming increasingly insane.
It is enormously important to have such powerful positive experiences to hang on to. And I do believe it makes a difference. As ‘the universe watching itself’, the sense of rightness, of passion that was created that day lingers - not just within us (as a beautiful, golden memory to cherish), but also without (like radio waves that travel out into space). We may only experience it as a brief moment, but it endures out there in the universe forever.
Thank you to all who make the music.
SenSuzy
* Lyrics by Christopher Bingham/Gaia Consort
Stamp a rhythm, lift your hands
Connect us to the earth and to the sky”*
This is a story about Gaia Consort at PolyCamp. I adore their music and have been to several concerts, but I’ve never seen them before at an outdoor performance. I was curious to see if the same vibrant energy that coalesces at their concerts would also be there in an outside space.
The afternoon was sunny and warm, and the shadows were just starting to lengthen, the air starting to cool, the sun dropping toward the horizon. About 30 minutes before the concert began, several rows of chairs and blankets were already set out in front of the stage. The band was doing a sound check up on a small, covered stage about six feet off the ground, beautiful batik prints draped along the front. The grass was long, lush and green, the mosquitoes were fearsome, and behind us was a huge stone circle. More people kept gathering with hugs and hellos. My boyfriend, leaving his seat between me and another sweetie, went to sit at the feet of another beloved for part of the concert.
After tuning up, the music started; immediately several people jumped up to dance. After a few minutes the film crew (three young English people) arrived and began filming. The smell of the grass was sweet and the sounds of the music even sweeter - like strawberries bursting juicily on your tongue and sending pleasure sparks to your brain.
Then more people began dancing. My, how they danced - I get goosebumps thinking about it. They laughed, and joined hands; they frolicked and twirled. They spun around, fringes of hair and clothing keeping spiraled time to the music. Some threw off their tops, some doffed everything, and then jumped and swayed some more.
A sense of exuberance began building among the dancers, spreading to those who were sitting and standing and swaying in time to the music, effervescent bubbles of pleasure glowing and tingling on skin and lips. The energy flowed, from the musicians on stage to the dancers, who gathered it up, wove it around and spun it out to those watching, who partook of it, drawing in a small bite and exhaling passion back out, a blessed communion of spirits. It was passed along and given back to the dancers who circled it around again and running inward together, flung it up into the sky, a shower of fireworks, dripping back down like water drops from a sprinkler held over a laughing child’s head.
I could see the eyes of the film crew get bigger as they tried to figure out what to film - the band, the audience or the dancers. As the songs continued to soar, they filmed the dancers coming together in a circle, winding in and out, laughing, faces shining. Then the dancers surrounded the camera and crew, running forward with loud whoops of joy. Willing to share their spirit not only with those there, but with future viewers on the other side of the camera. It was thrilling. It was lusty. It was love.
And for me, it was cathartic. For the first time in years, I felt no pain, no anguish, no sense of limitations. The walls of pain that have enclosed me for so long, opened up to give me a taste of freedom, of sweetness and delight. It was glorious.
I sat smiling, listening to the sensuous intertwining of the violin, viola and cello; the sight of ‘more Sue’ dancing and harmonizing with Chris’ bright vocals and sexy guitar rhythms, the drums throbbing underneath. Even the band having to replay part of a song, so the film crew could get some close-ups, was enjoyable. Afterward, with the sun gone, people wandered off to campsites and to more intimate gatherings.
The ecstatic energy that was shared freely that day, from amongst, within and between those present - both on stage and on the grass - created a unique union that existed for a brief, precious time. A collection of praise and dance and life that seemed sacred.
“We are the universe watching itself”*
Sacred also to the universe, to whatever cosmic consciousness that exists. For those not present, I can only say that it was life-affirming. It can be difficult these days not to focus on the negative, to push aside overwhelmingly crushing soul-sucking parts of existence. For those who are awake, it can be a cold, hard slog through a world seemingly becoming increasingly insane.
It is enormously important to have such powerful positive experiences to hang on to. And I do believe it makes a difference. As ‘the universe watching itself’, the sense of rightness, of passion that was created that day lingers - not just within us (as a beautiful, golden memory to cherish), but also without (like radio waves that travel out into space). We may only experience it as a brief moment, but it endures out there in the universe forever.
Thank you to all who make the music.
SenSuzy
* Lyrics by Christopher Bingham/Gaia Consort