I thought I could play my didj fairly well: then I went to Indijinus for the first time (the last one at Scio); my jaw dropped. I heard didjeridoo sounds that were utterly alien to any prior experience. I felt that never before had I gathered with such an evolved and conscious tribe. There were pockets of musicians in every little nook and cranny of the woods, creating songs together, like a dream.

The birth of music in the moment is so magical, both to the musicians and to the listeners. The impressions I experienced at the last Indijinus in Scio - the way the tribe co-created through donations and volunteering - this brought me back year after year... or would have, except the event outgrew Scio, and so was brought to Prindel Creek Farm, my home, for which I am eternally grateful.

Because no matter what happens, from mud jams to kitchen jams, we all have had our special touching Indijinus moments at Scio and at PCF; and some of us have even had major life changing epiphanies, like when everybody left after the second gathering at Prindel Creek, and I saw swirling eddies of air (like clear dust devils) dancing through the valley, barely visible by the tree pollen they were swirling--like swirls in a river at the edge of the rapids: InDidjInUs leaves energy swirls dancing through the valley, like lingering echoes of the magic sounds that were created here!

Sometmes traveling musicians and didj players aren't rollin in dough, though good vibes are rolling out of their tubes; the sliding scale donations / volunteer system of honour makes it possible for musical energy to interact regardless of its economic origins.

InDidjInUs' honor system seemed to me like old magic beyond the comprehension of corporate consciousness, so I liked it.

Published 05 MAR 2016
by Everett Fuller.