..:: piotr ::..

..
Back when man was stumbling around the dusty savannahs figuring out the best way to surprise a woolly mammoth, he found his experience divided sharply between night and day. In the light he was a naked animal, prey to those greater than him; but once darkness fell he joined the gods. Under the star-pierced sky, with flaming torches smearing his vision and armies of drummers hammering out a relentless beat, he ate some sacred roots and berries, abandoned the taboos of waking life, welcomed the spirits to his table, and joind his sisters and brothers in the dance. More often than not, there was somebody at the center of all this. Somebody who handed out the party plants, somebody who started the action, somebody who coltrolled the music. This figure -the withdoctor, the shaman, the priest- was a little bit special, he had a certain power. The next day, as you nursed your hangover, he probably went back to being just your next door neighbor -that guy two huts down who wears a few too many feathers- but when the lights were off and you were heading out into a drum-and-peyote-fuelled trance, ... he was the don!......