Tipi Jim

Jim was a larger than life character who stood as tall and as straight as an oak but with the flexibility of a willow, bending but not braking in the wind or storm.

I remember crouching down low in Jim’s leaky duck punt on a wet, damp and miserable morning. Even then, waiting for ducks, Jims light airy manner seemed to slowly lift the mist and rain. Jim smuggled me into my first ever Glastonbury festival when I was just seventeen a remarkable 35 years ago when the festival still had soul, spirit and wildness like Jim.

In Jim’s mid fifties, my age now, his heart failed him and he died. For me, Jim will never be forgotten for he was my first Shaman, healer and friend. He laid me down in his big tipi to sleep when my dreaming started. Because of Jim, my dreaming continues still.

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