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Videos from BM this year
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If DJ Jesus doesn't turn up at Burning Man... (This is only a partial clip but I really would like to see the rest)
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I'm not short of films to watch now (Via The Presurfer)
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26 entries from September 2007
Burning the Man
I fear my memories will fade.
I hadn’t realised the true pain involved with Burning Man; the heat, the tent-snapping storms, the stinging dust that swells your hands and feet, the blistering walking distances, the need for radical self-reliance and vinegar.
Yet, somehow, whether deliberate or not, this makes the place. You need each other, a community whole. Everyone gives, everyone tries to make the experience good for all. Everyone contributes from volunteering, to running theme camps, even just in keeping the place free of MOOP.
It is a community trying to have fun and express themselves in a location that is, simply put, out to get you.
We drove in at dawn, past the words, to Will Call and my ticket. The sun broke across the playa; it wasn’t morning mist refracting the light, it was dust.
We were camped at about 2.40, spanning between Grasslands and Habitat, with the lovely people associated with Wolf and Lamb and the Sapphire Portal. Their shade structures astounded and their showers were by far the best in town.
I might not have got to know many of them well, but I will always love them all for providing my lovely home. Just as I will always love the people I travelled up with for their forethought, planning and browbeating.
Despite the pain*, I had a week I will hold in my heart and treasure for a long time.
I still dream of it. I will return.
My fracturing memories in no clear order:
Dawn over the playa, dragonflies mating, my battery-powered fairy-lights that lit up the world and the moth that loved them, the sapphire portal, camelbacks and dry mouths, long walks, the bliss of cycling (although not on the dark sand), the ‘musical’ portaloos, ‘high strung’ aka hammock-land and lovely naps, the rebuilt man glowing in the dark, the necessity of tutus, joy of water misters, my poor aim with waterpistols, great cthulu and duck the bike guardians, hair that will not move for dust, the problems with tutus, eating at the snack food glory hole, the volunteers dancing on the bar at centre camp, the beauty of tinned pineapple and cold cold margaritas, Barbie death camp, dance dance immolation, watching the lights spin through 3D glasses, the slow burn of the temple, the cheers at the thunderdome, animal crackers, trampolines, rebar, the physical pain of packing up and leaving, "they don't let it stop them", the tiny room of mirrors at the hive, visiting spikes, centre camp and lemonade, the fear the rain will turn the dust to glue, giggling at friends at the roller disco, the draining of the coolers, chasing glowing balls in the dark, monkeys swinging round in the dark, the drying shower water stained by the beetroot people, the Cheshire cat art car (amongst others) sailing by in the dark like giant luminescent leviathans in the deep (where us humans were but small fry), my first ride on an art car, getting hit by swinging western doors, missing people, finding people, my amazing escape from sunburn, the man who told people they were beautiful with all sincerity as he passed them in the crowd, the pickled runner bean in the bloody mary, how smoking summoned dust storms two days running, vitamin water, climbing on vans for the view, dancing until dawn, night golf and a crocodile head, the gift of lovely pasta bolognese, remembering my cup, forgetting my cup, the dust that creeps in everywhere, visiting Hobbiton, queuing for ice, hugs from the tequila-giving eyeball riders, getting lost in the dark and somehow still found by friends, sitting on a sofa in the middle of nowhere in the night reading the letters, air raid sirens filling the air and an explosion that rocked the world, the simple realisation that I was home.
[Photoset] [other flickr photos: 'burningman07']
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* I'm really proud I went to burning man, camped in the desert and came away without the normally inevitable sunburn.
