Camp Doogs happened the weekend just gone, and I thought I would document for you all the places I sat down, and what happened while I was sitting (as best as I can remember), because I really, really enjoyed these sits.
Next time I attend an event such as this, I am totally bringing my own chair.
this is all I have to say about finally sitting on a toilet, every time.
-Hay bales (in front of the stage) (multiple):
too many times to count, I sat with many friends for many musics, I can’t remember all of them, I can’t remember all the people either but it was so nice to be in that area and see so many people I love and have known for various amounts of time, all in the one place. It was almost overwhelming, actually pretty overwhelming, and many sit downs were needed to gather my strength for all those beautiful hugs and kisses on cheeks.
-Hay bales (singular):
by the food trucks while fairly intoxicated and not wanting to risk going down the slope just yet but still vibing.
the stand out being when I was told during Pete Bibby’s set that my brother had dislocated his shoulder and was on his way to the Busselton Hospital. He wasn’t even being silly when he dislocated it, he was just lying down and skipping stones. What a cutie, I love that guy. I was worried and empathetic but I couldn’t do anything so I got up and danced it out. Boy did I dance. I saw a tiny snippet of footage of that set and I could see myself and I looked like a total dickhead, plunging my hand deep in to the sky in time with Bibby’s words, the words he stole from Kylie Minogue or whoever it is that wrote that song for her (I’m sorry I don’t know your brain bro/sis, it’s a great song).
-On a log by the river (multiple):
watching friends and strangers jump in the river, longing to jump in the river too but knowing it was a bit cold for me and I was also feeling a little self concious, but I was smiling hard at the sheer joy on display. Later that day, in the evening, I stumbled down the incline to sit alone for a while, sitting on that log again looking at the river, feeling like it wasn’t the perfect spot to sit, but it was still nice. Smooth. Smoother that when I was there in the day time. I moved to a better spot in the tree.
-On the incline by the river:
watching Emlyn Johnson, overwhelmed by the amount of people watching and appreciating him, giggling with the friend next to me as we sipped on red wine. Roused. Well and truly roused.
-By the campfire in Spliffton (multiple):
I helped make the fire some times, I helped keep it going a few times, I stared at it for a while, I smashed up some branches and twigs with Splodge a few times, talked with him about god-knows-what, but whatever it was, it brought us closer together, and it made me appreciate him even further; that man has a beautiful brain.
-On the ledge looking out over the stage:
the only time I sat on that ledge- not just leaning on the railings and worrying about the crumbling walkway- I was at first alone, watching Bamodi just as the sun set. I hadn’t seen them in yearrrrrrs, and it was it good, pretty good, but I was drunk and couldn’t bring myself to stand up and drunkenly sway near the front of the stage. I tried to take photos but it wasn’t working, but it was good to watch, and then the boys from Spermaids appeared either side of me, and we chatted and I think we were all a little too intoxicated to make proper sense or connections but it was still chill, I like those guys, and they suggested going to do the Spin the Bottles times together, and I was all “nahhhh I don’t think so” because I expected it to be quite awkward, the people doing the lookings for Six Thousand said it was awkward and they blamed Tinder-swipe-culture, but looking back I probably should have gone and done that thing, because who knows, maybe it could have been lovely.
-In the branches of the big tree by the river:
I had to climb the tree to be alone and up, away from all, out of it, trees. Love trees. I threw the goon sack up in to the branches above me, and climb-jumped up to sit next to it, so that I could hold it above my face and drink it. This was my favourite sit. The pre-dawn, an hour or two or three, I don’t know, I was letting the river sound wash over and through, distracto, disloco, and when I heard the human voices I was hope-waiting for, I dropped my arm down and flashed some morse-code fire. I sat there until the sun came up.
-Side of the road (last day) (multiple):
waiting for the last bus, the last bus that left before the last of us were ready, I imagined starting a new life there at the entrance of the property selling woven craft items made from my own hair. It wasn’t very pleasant, but it was because friends and bottles of water and painkillers. But we got home in the end. Sitting on the bus was pretty good too because I kind-of-slept.