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Feeding People

"Gunga" Doug Fort     
Fall 2003     

    I first came to Four Quarters one weekend in February of 1999. It was a cold and blustery day, the kind of day when the promise of spring seems yet far away and the grip of winter still embraces the Land. This is when I first met the Standing Stones, when I first walked the Land. I knew then that I wanted to be a part of this great undertaking. I knew I wanted to help hold this Land sacred for those who would come.
    I was not sure how I would fit in, or in what capacity I could serve. I just knew I had to serve, and that purpose still carries me to this day. I soon found myself drawn into a glorious, if somewhat daunting project, The Starvin’ Artist Cafe. Many of you know the stories of the kitchen’s first years under tarp, and the trials and tribulations we prevailed through with borrowed equipment and very limited resources. But I am not writing to retell those tales, they are now part of campfire legend. I am writing about why.

    I have been staffing at Four Quarters for five years now. Sometimes it seems like forever. The festivals I have been at, the ceremonies I have participated in, the people I have touched; have all blended together. It is sometimes difficult for me to separate them, yet they also stand distinct in my mind. I know I have had a part, however small, in bringing it all together.
    Some people may think I’m crazy as they see me festival after festival, year after year, working myself to exhaustion and past. That is my path, and I walk it willingly because I am needed. I staff because I want to. I staff because I want people to be able to come here and share in the magic and joy of the Land and the Stones. Staffing is my sacrifice to my Gods, to the Land, and to the Circle. For if we are going to continue this great undertaking unto the seventh generation, then we must have willing bodies to volunteer the time that makes it all happen.
    Staffing at Four Quarters may seem daunting, particularly when you see me and the others like me, who have made long-term commitments to staff whenever we are needed. I must stress, however, that this is the path we have chosen and not the path of service for all. To staff you need only commit to working two festivals a season, a much easier path than I have chosen. Commit only to what you are able to do and reap the rewards of that service and sacrifice. Share in the joy and thankfulness of those you have served.

    Working in the kitchen is a much lighter task than it once was. When there are more people in the kitchen the task is lighter still. For it is true that many hands make light work. That is why I make this call. We always need willing hands to help. The Starvin’ Artist is the vibrant beating heart of our community, where we draw together to share the nourishment our hands have created. It is a cauldron of transformation, not only for the raw ingredients that are transformed into great feasts, but also for those who serve there. The bonds of friendship I have formed while in the kitchen are among the strongest I have formed on the Land. My life has been changed by my time in the kitchen and so can yours.

    We can always use the helping hands.