Thursday arrives and its all hands on deck to get everything finished. It’s another early start for three of us and shock horror back to the main arena mural wall we go. The end is in sight. Or not in the case of circles. The spherical trials and tribulations painting round and round. From the teeny tiny circles, to the large multi-coloured concentric circles. We have painted close to 500.

I spend my time between the outside wall of VIP and inside the VIP area bringing in furniture, scene setting backdrops to cover over the fencing and constantly ferrying more supplies on site.

The constructionists and remaining crew arrive around 9am and finally the wall is done. The whole stretch looks amazing. Even the mock up of the Wickerman site mural for public interaction looks fabulous. My creative genius happily heads to the Star Wood bar and speedily touches up on leafy green designs around the bar making everything look so polished and perfect. She is delighted to be over the circles and working on something different, as are we all.

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The Star Wood Bar is built in a small wooded area of the site. It’s very rustic, enclosed by trees and cosy. The bar is made from huge trunks and ridged unfinished planks with a tree growing right up and through the central overhang. Together we hang Perspex coloured stars high up in the trees, wrap four trees and the entrance area in solar power twinkling lights. We screw up a handmade Star Wood Bar sign that the creative genius paints up in literally three minutes, her skills just bursting now. We wrap trees in green ribbons and dress up the whole area with over 50 metres of handmade floral bunting. Finally we scatter wooden bright coloured stars in placement around the bar front, each one unique, each one a piece of art in its own right. The place looks preeeeeeeeeeeeeeeettty.

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We head back to VIP and find the place fraught with energy and running out of time. We have different deadlines being giving to us by different members of the Wickerman or bar organising crew, so i decide the only thing to do is go to the boss and demand a buggy and trailer to get this job done. 30 minutes later, the picture is clear, we have until 10am Friday morning so we can work all night if needed but we hope not. And at least we now have a buggy and trailer until the job is done.

Thursday is also the day some of the weekend staff begin to arrive, so while working and buzzing people and supplies around the site I have to be mindful of my mobile phone, and respond to any entrance issues and keep on top of the overall plans. The rest of the site installation work is now finished apart from VIP and the thirty-plus individual signs to still go out.

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Around 5pm cook begins to fire up the huge barrel BBQ we have brought with us. The plan was that we would be finished somewhere between 7pm and 8pm and we could then all sit out and unwind as a team, the new interactive wall workers to meet the core creative crew.

But it didn’t work out that way at all. There is a general feeling of disappointment and disbelief as VIP continues to drain our resources. Long after 9pm I bring members of the crew to the BBQ in stages so people get to eat, drink and be merry. But the merriment does not last for long as they are ferried straight back to finish VIP.

At 11pm we are asked to run Mummy of Wickerman’s vacuum cleaner over the floor of VIP. Not on my job plan but we agree anyway. I zoom up to base camp and grab the cook. Who, up until now has not been anywhere on site to see any of the work we have done or see how the whole site looks.

It is her first time to the festival. The punters are now allowed inside the main arena, which makes for some interesting manoeuvres as we zip about on a whistle stop tour of all our situated art work and installations. Cook loves it.

One scary moment when whizzing over a small hill she loses her balance on the seat beside me and grabs out. Not onto the buggy handles but the blooming steering wheel! Pulling the buggy immediately to the left with me grabbing it back and screeching at her-

“Do not hang on using the steering wheel!” Phew! What is it with buggy novices? Thank goodness there were no walls. Or worse people, immediately on our left at that point. We laugh as the cold night wind whips our hair and we negotiate our way around wandering punters.

Upon reaching VIP she is utterly impressed. Perhaps not so when I announce we have a job for her and produce the vacuum. But willing and happy to help she dives in, running straight lines up and down the huge expanse of the marquee floor, enthusiasm radiating like Freddy Mercury. Believe it or not this single job takes her an hour and a half.

In the meantime, we are all frantically putting up the entrance gate, the ornate fence, wrapping ivy and flowers around the structures for the wedding, dressing topiary bushes, dressing up the outdoor sofa cuddle snug and planting the area up with flowers, shrubbery and fake candles.

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My invisible boss hat is truly stuck on my head and my pointing finger annoying the team. But it needs to be pointed. Not only do we have to finish soon, we have to keep asking VIP security to stop admitting VIP wristband owners as the area is not safe. There are tools and objects strewn everywhere. By 1am I am in clear up mode. We decide to come back at 6am to finish the final smaller jobs to complete the area.

I run the team back up the road to base camp, filling the buggy and trailer with exhausted bodies bouncing around, eyes wide at the fully switched on site. Lights strobing and lasers searching the sky. Stalls and vendors all open and the one bar that is open on the Thursday night thumping with a live band and stacked with people having fun.

I drive the buggy and crew straight into the base camp tent, hiding it for our early morning usage and lessening the distance from transport to slumber. It is 2am.

4 hours sleep for the five of us who need to get on site first thing. And 6 hours for those who are involved with the interactive wall over the weekend. It’s a poor show. I feel awful for the team. It’s my responsibility to map out the timings of all these jobs and I didn’t get it right. I sleep heavy hearted that night. Aware no one has switched off yet, ready to enjoy the festival tomorrow and the teams reward night of BBQ, beers, rest and recreation not delivered.

Friday morning and my BF accompanies me to run round the site placing all of the signs. The morning is sunny and crisp. You can tell the mist will burn off and the beautiful day will soon be ahead for everyone. We dart about placing the signs. We see the VIP crew heading down to finish their final touches. By 8am we are noticed with the buggy and asked to return it to Wickerman HQ in the next hour.

We stretch this out just a little, allowing time for me to run the VIP crew tools back to base camp so they can walk away without loaded arms.

I walk back to the wall and begin to set up the tables, paint and stencils for the interactive crew. The crew members all arrive, mostly fresh faced and excited. They will spend the day in shifts, working with members of the public on the completion of an interactive mural.

It’s a stonking hot day. As soon as the ‘Come and take part’ sign is up we are mobbed. It seems the parents love the idea of getting their kids getting involved in an activity so early in the day and are even more delighted it is free.

I leave a frantic smiling team of hot happy workers to their shift while i trudge back to base camp to face plant into my bed for a few hours. All the van doors open, the wind sweeping across my sore broken body, the thrum of painkillers and deep heat soothing my muscles, the sound of friends arriving massaging my soul. But sleep evades me.

The site is too energised. The day too hopeful for rest. So after a couple of hours trying to ignore the laughter and preparation going on around me, I head for a cold shower, accompanied by a cold beer and decide to attack the day, get into the groove and have it large! After all, it’s Friday, my friends are scattered everywhere and the sunshine is beating down the sounds of the festival beating through my soul. How long will I last?

Article: Lou Hyland