Justine
“What are you on?”“Nothing. I’m just like this.”
People notice more at two in the morning.
Justine
People notice more at two in the morning.
Read this.
If you make it to the end, we could have fun and probably sort out a whole load of life stuff as a kind of side effect.
If you don’t, we’ve saved each other half an hour of our one wild and precious life.
Everything.
Everything is easier than nothing..
“I think an entity has attached to me.”
“I’m still upset about my cat who died ten years ago.”
“This is going to sound totally bonkers”
“I’ve never told anybody this”
You can say it exactly as it is
I’m not going to flinch.
What actually happens?
Sometimes we talk. Move. Run energy. Sing or hum. Sit quietly with our eyes shut. Most often laugh out loud with the ridiculousness of life.
Sometimes it’s free jazz.
Sometimes it’s jazz trance.
What does the B in Benoit B. Mandelbrot stand for?
Benoit B. Mandelbrot.
Apparently.
I used to be a gardener.
I want to be a gardener again.
Once I couldn’t find a straight answer about which way up to plant a bean, so I planted them every possible way round to see what happened.
They grew.
I learnt about cotyledons.
My favourite bean is Borlotto Lingua di Fuoco.
Tongue of Fire. Cream with crimson stripes. Cook fresh off the plant or use dried. Fabulous.
Beans look good. They smell good. Their flowers are beautiful. They fix nitrogen into the soil.
What’s not to love about a bean?
People can be more interesting.
When they’re interesting.
Right. Where were we?
People often arrive with what they think the problem is.
Sometimes it is.
Sometimes it absolutely isn’t.
I’m interested in the hinge.
Who is this for?
People who want to change their life.
Curious people.
People looking for their joy.
Of course, somebody extremely dull may still be reading, decide they are fascinating and book several hours.
No system is perfect.
That’s when I see people.
Small numbers, on purpose.
Burnout is banished from this realm…
Where and how?
On Zoom, wherever you happen to be.
In person in London, or at a luxury hotel of your choice.
You may also fly me to Malibu.
Let’s put that in writing.
Malibu. Ibiza. Kyoto. Penang. Anywhere with a beach, mountains, parties, fab food and company. Maybe not Canvey Island…
At some point soon, I want a place.
A proper place.
A beautiful house with land and an excellent garden. Ancient trees. Things growing. Dogs and cats wandering around as though the deeds are in their names. A long table. Very good food. Mind blowing music. People I actually like.
I want time to garden again.
I want to dance, write, make things, paint in fields, stand barefoot in the rain and live the things that interest me until they become part of how I sense—and make sense of—the world.
I want to sing and play bass in a band.
I want to help make things that don’t quite exist yet.
Useful technology with an actual soul.
Beautiful, practical, solarpunk things.
I want to bring together people who ought to know each other.
Artists and technologists. Gardeners and musicians. Ancient esoteric knowledge and brand spanking new systems. People living on opposite sides of London who should definitely be playing gongs together.
I want to create rooms where different worlds collide and something totally new emerges.
Festivals. Gatherings. Music. Art. Land. Culture. Ideas that haven’t even been thought of yet.
I want to be invited into brilliant projects to have fun, hang out and potentially give a view that hadn’t been noticed before.
I want to advise festivals and events on the things that are usually treated as separate but aren’t: atmosphere, music, people, energy, environment, care, beauty, flow and how the land feels about it
Work I love doing that pays extremely well.
Enough money to do what I want, when I want, and give loads of it to other people.
Brilliant clients.
International invitations.
Stones. Ley lines. Sacred waters. Mountains. Ancient forests. Temples. Thresholds. Caves. Places where the land is waiting for someone to come along and listen properly.
Egypt.
Sing with the stones, stand in the thresholds and listen.
Unexpected journeys. A beautiful home. A car I love driving. Loads of time and space for all the extraordinary things I want to do.
And, while we’re putting things in writing:
Actually available.
Emotionally available.
Must adore dogs, cats and me.
The Viking part may be negotiable.
The adoration isn’t.
There.
Back room
You found the door.
This wing isn’t finished. It’s where the odd things will go — the ones I only tell people who go looking.
Make it so.
Bring me the thing that doesn’t make sense.
Bring the unexpurgated version.
Through a hedge backwards is fine.
75 minutes
Community — £100
The price — £280
Patron — £450
justine.hunt@btinternet.com
