Mid-May means Midgard
May. 24th, 2005 09:10 amI spent last weekend at the Midgard Festival,
a pagan weekend away from the big city life. For some bizarre reason, I
thought there was going to be 200 people there, but I was probably
confusing it with the Awakening Isis
festival at the end of June (and I'm planning to go to that one too
with
sarahcarotte). I was the only Montrealer at the
fest this year (aside from MC who now can only miss Montreal), but some
generous Ottawa folks welcomed me into their camp, which was mucho
appreciated. Thanks for everything, you crazy kids!
For Midgard 2005, we were about 40 heathens (mostly from Ontari-ari-o). There should be some kind of formula to apply to calculate the mood at a pagan fest. A fest with 40 heathens doesn't feel the same as a fest with 400 heathens (and I shudder to think what the arrow would point to when you get 2000 heathens in the same spot (like at Starwood)).
In the end, I can say that the mood at a 40-heathen fest is comfortably relaxed. Nobody was in a hurry to get anywhere in particular, although folks mostly congregated around the fire pit, kinda like the magnetic power of a kitchen at a party, only with more smoke (depending on who's cooking).
I gave a workshop on storytelling and Bardcraft which was well-attended (as opposed to KG where no one came). Again, I spoke for too long ("Pleeaaaseee Hobbes... Peeeeeee breeeaaak!"), but they all came back which was encouraging. I could even see evidence of my teachings at the Bardic that night.
There's just something addictive about festing in the spring/summer. It's interesting to take note of how a campfire changes people's mood. The warmth of the firelight on people's faces and skin is just so intoxicating. We had drumming circles each night (at which, I could tell a few tales while the drummers rested) and sang, danced, discussed philosophy, and snuggled to keep the chill off.
At the end of the weekend, our newly-formed gaggle of fest friends were huddled together at a picnic table under a few pines trees, which don't offer great protection from the rain, let me tell you. We had all had little moments shared between us over the weekend and we didn't want to have to walk away from them. But the rain kept getting more and more intense, as if the Weather Gods were telling us "We know it's tough, but you need to hit the road... NOW."
concordantnexus kept me awake on the ride home (until he fell asleep himself)
and I stumbled into the house and plopped into a hot bath. There was
supposed to be a Dragon Boat practice, but I was in no shape for it.
Ms. Carotte made me hot tea and some spicy Indian food and we snuggled
up to watch some CSI.
I look forward to festing will all youse folks again soon and thanks for sharing your moments with me this weekend.
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
For Midgard 2005, we were about 40 heathens (mostly from Ontari-ari-o). There should be some kind of formula to apply to calculate the mood at a pagan fest. A fest with 40 heathens doesn't feel the same as a fest with 400 heathens (and I shudder to think what the arrow would point to when you get 2000 heathens in the same spot (like at Starwood)).
In the end, I can say that the mood at a 40-heathen fest is comfortably relaxed. Nobody was in a hurry to get anywhere in particular, although folks mostly congregated around the fire pit, kinda like the magnetic power of a kitchen at a party, only with more smoke (depending on who's cooking).
I gave a workshop on storytelling and Bardcraft which was well-attended (as opposed to KG where no one came). Again, I spoke for too long ("Pleeaaaseee Hobbes... Peeeeeee breeeaaak!"), but they all came back which was encouraging. I could even see evidence of my teachings at the Bardic that night.
There's just something addictive about festing in the spring/summer. It's interesting to take note of how a campfire changes people's mood. The warmth of the firelight on people's faces and skin is just so intoxicating. We had drumming circles each night (at which, I could tell a few tales while the drummers rested) and sang, danced, discussed philosophy, and snuggled to keep the chill off.
At the end of the weekend, our newly-formed gaggle of fest friends were huddled together at a picnic table under a few pines trees, which don't offer great protection from the rain, let me tell you. We had all had little moments shared between us over the weekend and we didn't want to have to walk away from them. But the rain kept getting more and more intense, as if the Weather Gods were telling us "We know it's tough, but you need to hit the road... NOW."
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
I look forward to festing will all youse folks again soon and thanks for sharing your moments with me this weekend.