2012 Burning Man Stories: Art-trike ride

Thursday Night jaunt

   Wanting to spend some time with my family at Burning Man, I headed out with my brother , father, and uncle down the radial street, away from the Man, "uptown" if you will.  We planned to hang out at Quixote's Cabaret Club and Bar and perform solo acts at their open mic night.   Two nights prior, we had performed as a barbershop quartet.  In previous years, Quixote's had been made up like a medieval castle.  This year, they went with a Roman theme, with marble columns painted on the tarps, and, at the gate, a centurion in full armor checking ID's. 

   Inside, it was a packed house, with people relaxing, and enjoying the show.  Performers would take the stage to sing, dance, juggle or speak.  All four of us had something planned to perform.  Mine was a short play.  A bar in one corner of the room dispensed drinks and people were welcome to smoke their cigarettes inside.  This was to become an issue for me, as I could not sit all night in a smoky bar and expect to feel well.  I wandered outside to get some fresh air and considered my options for the night.  The evening's plans having been cleared, I had a free open night to wander and find my excitement.  I leaned back on the padded cushion of a parked art tricycle and looked up and down the streets for what might be happening, the endless possibilities seeming a bit overwhelming.

   Before too much time had passed, I was approached out of the blue by a smiling young couple.  They greeted me and quickly asked me if I wanted to go somewhere on the playa, on their art trike, which I was leaning on as though I owned it.  I thought they were joking at first, but they pressed on, asking me where I'd like to go.  My first thought, which I then blurted out, was that I'd like to go to the Temple.  After ducking back into Quixote's to say goodbye to my folks, and for my hosts to get a drink, we piled on the trike, the couple in the front seats, pedaling, and I on the back furry pad, manning the horn to alert pedestrians of our approach.  While I cannot for the life of me remember their exact names, I'm pretty sure it was close to Lando and Julia, so I will use those names for now.  They told me they would take me to the Temple, stopping along the way to look at art pieces and camps.  I said that was well in line with my plans for the evening.  They seemed not to mind the constant pedaling, as we joked back and forth.  We stopped at the end of the radial street to pay a visit to the Cubatron, a mass of colored LED's that animated into some amazing patterns.  My hosts passed out refracting paper glasses that make every light look like a star made of rainbows.  We moved on after a bit, roving out onto the open playa and viewing a few other pieces which I cannot recall.
We stopped at a bank of port-a-johns, and upon leaving them, we saw a large group of bunnies pulling up.  These were burners in full bunny suits, painted on whiskers, etc.  We greeted them happily and as we were about to pedal off, I saw one bunny seeming to rally the others toward us.  I alerted my hosts that the bunnies were about to perform for us or something, and they stopped.  Then began a full-on bunny stampede.  All of the bunnies, about 20 of them, piled onto us, hugging and snuggling us in their furry suits, in the spirit of friendly, non-threatening animals.  This caused me to laugh uncontrollably.  It felt good.  It lasted about 30 seconds or so, and then they were off, leaving us feeling warmed and refreshed.

   At the end of the block, we came to Opulent Temple, a massive outdoor dance club, and my hosts were eager to dance.  They were fairly lovey-dovey with each other, flirting most of the time.  They ran ahead and I walked in slowly, a bit leary of the large booming club.  I used to be more into this scene, but now it seems to sap my energy.  I admire the camp's construction, with perimeter fences, large dancing platforms, and two huge circular screens where psychedelic images are projected for the dancing, largely tripping, ravers within.  In previous years I have danced at this club and had a good time.  This time, for some reason, the music didn't move me, and after a quick stroll through the thinner part of the club crowd, I headed back to the trike.  It was lit up distinctively so as not to be lost among the huddle of hundreds of bikes, trikes, quads, art cars, sculptures, and other stuff.  I sat in the driver's seat and watched the parade of burners go by.  My hosts eventually came back from dancing, and were ready to continue pedaling.  Such a night of solid exercise would not attract me, but they were more than happy.  From the Opulent Temple, we made pretty much a straight shot to the Temple of Juno, my night's destination.  They dropped me off and we hugged as good friends.  They were off to find their next passengers for the night, and to do this over and over all night, acting as a taxi service to burners on the playa.  For my part, I made my solemn way into the wide Temple complex and started looking for my spot to meditate and commune with the temple, the community, and the earth.

Odd and funny pictures seen around town.

Life is odd.  Life is funny.  What am I talking about?  Well these pictures might shed some light:

Seen at Ikea,.  Is there a lack in *your* life?

At Ikea, these adjustable curtain fixtures kept looking at me.

Uhh, maybe turn the sign off then...?  Or is that the name of one of these new teen movies?

Posted at a community center.

Seen on a voting form.  Major fail here.

I prefer to vote for someone I know.  Someone had to tally this vote.

Screen Captures of Google Maps Satellite

Interesting satellite images of our planet and people.
Click on images to see a larger view.

Trippy Sketches

Necessities Shelf

Eye Contact!

Portals within portals

What is Burning Man to me?

Anyone can learn the official answer to "What is Burning Man?" at the official Burning Man website:
http://www.burningman.com/

More relevant to this blog, what is Burning Man to me?  Well...

Escape:
This place is really far away from everything I know.  Geographically, it's a whole day's drive away.  Mentally, spiritually, it is many galaxies distant from the usual life.  The playa embodies solitude: totally flat, featureless and unwelcoming, like the surface of an alien planet.  The society created by burners is a pocket of love and comfort within this desolate wasteland.  When I am there, I can barely conceive of life outside of that canyon. 

Outlet:
Anything goes here, just about anything.  My creative side flourishes here, as there is a blank canvas inviting me to leave my mark.  All expressions are welcome.  Everyone is expressing, and creativity is a kind of currency here.  The very best of expressions are available to witness and share. 

Home:
The only place on earth, where, for one week a year, I get to own, really own my own space.  I own it by building my sacred space within it, welcome my people inside, hold court, argue, embrace, rest, sleep, eat and hide out from the storm.  My dome on the playa is where I really feel at home.

Magic:
Nothing can possibly compare with a night of roaming the playa.  No description, however complete, can convey the unpredictability and unfathomability of experiences on the playa.  Things happen that cannot ever be explained: strange guides come to your aid, the exact object you need materializes out of the darkness, and a dreamlike quality leads you to that exact thing for which you have always wished. 

Frenzy:
The outpouring of energy caught me from the beginning.  Frenzied dancing, drumming, fire-spinning, and generally performing is the norm.  The pure energy of the Saturday night burn is not easily forgotten.  Tens of thousands of people assemble with hundreds of ingenious art cars, lit-up costumes, and amazing gimmicks.  The man burns to the sound of wild cheering, then, when it falls, a swarm of bodies circles in towards the massive fire.  Spinning counter-clockwise around the fire, the citizens of Black Rock City experience each other.  Around the circle, musicians, dancers, and artists of all types pour out their creative expression, forming collaborations and spontaneous pockets of exuberant revelry.

Challenge:
The harsh playa is not for everyone.  Severe dryness, heat and relentless dust wear down the body.  To stand up to it takes a certain toughness, and some knowledge of survival methods.  When one is prepared, with every contingency planned for, survival becomes fun, a gift to share with others.  I relish a nice stroll through a whiteout with my dust mask and goggles.

Little Doodles

I doodle in my sketchbook, these little self-contained little creatures, machines or cells.  Now I've painted them in watercolor.  Enjoy.

Green Alien

 

Orange Amoeba

Yellow Elephant

Green Paramecium

 

Purple Plankton

Yellow Quadruped

 

Five-eyed Entity

Orange Skull

Yellow Profile

Red and Purple Amalgam

Spaceship with Stage

Green Alien II

12 Vision Paintings

My Vision Paintings in Watercolor

I see things in my head, and have for many years.  Sometimes these visions emerge from dreams, more often from the border state between waking and sleep, and some others, from psychedelic inner journeys.  Though content to enjoy the images in the privacy of my mind, I feel inspired to share them with others.  When they appear, I cling to them with the feeble tools of memory and mnemonic device.  Later, I scratch them onto paper with pencil and art stix.  The ultimate goal is to portray these images in acrylic paintings and sculptures.  As an intermediate stage, here are some thumbnails in watercolor.  Enjoy.

Machine Elf
Created out of pure syntax, he rides an elaborate and elegant vehicle made of intention.

Emotion Tunnel:
Stuck in a cylindrical grid of stark emotional states, seeking the end-cap of pure bliss and joy.

 Apartment Complex:
Cave-like tower with geometrical arm projections; quality singles' living on the desert.

Dream Cathedral
The lofty structure need not obey laws of physics; no door is needed to enter or leave.

Energy Beam I
The universe pours out her energy from deep within, radiant light and heat to all creation.

Energy Beam II
Bright shining light of love and life bursting through the field of darkness.

Energy Beam III
The glowing spinning object at the end of time, shooting off beams of energy back through all of time and space.

Festooned Hallway
This long walk to the exit invites with its bright colors, and forebodes with its blackened doors.

Joyous Noise
The planet unites for the sole purpose of making loud sonorous stellar music.

Massive Millipede
A mutant insect moving along the river, like a solid wall of rock, towards the distant hills.

Nature's Room
The boundaries of the bedroom dissolve as the mountains, clouds and rivers flow into the intimate space.

Turtle Cruise
Protected from all dangers by its patterned shell, the cruise party seeks adventure in safety. 

Back from Burning Man 2012 and Beyond

Back from Burning Man 2012 and Beyond


I'm back from the strangest temporary city of parties.  My ninth time attending this event, I feel that I'm a seasoned veteran, having gained knowledge and skills to survive in this wasteland and thrive in the lush community.


I hardly know where to begin to tell my stories of this magical world. 

The highlight of my trip this year was my Saturday night activities during the climactic Man Burn.  This event, though the nominal peak of the event, is well-known to be more of an anti-climax, with the more memorable experiences occurring before or after the actual burn.

I stayed in camp this year and watched the man burn from my camp which was perfectly positioned in the 7:30 portal, so as to afford a good view of the fire and of the crowd convening to see it.  I was told two days prior that we would be leaving Sunday afternoon, so I had only this one chance to dose myself with psilocybe cubensis mushrooms.  Even knowing I would probably miss being at the burn in person if I did this, I knew this was a major purpose of my trip, so I was mentally committed to this endeavor.  I munched down the few small handfuls of crispy shrooms, which tasted rich and earthy, and needed a few swillings of water to get down. 

After packing up all my gear that I could, I had to pack up the massage table in its case and load it on the truck that would take me home.  I was a bit shaky for the last of my task, as I could feel the reality around me slipping, my control of my body loosening as the first stage of the mushroom trip came on, signaled by slight nausea, dizziness, fatigue and disorientation.

I was lucky to be done, as I was ready to collapse in my dome, with everything around me I needed for the night.  Perfectly prepared, I lay down to rest and enter the trip.  I was along for the ride now, with some trepidation but not overly worried.  Deep breaths, and a constant awareness of my body's comfort level guided me to cover myself from the evening wind.  My vision was taken up by the most vivid series of images that cannot be fully described.  They were the eternal and universal images on cave walls and psychedelic art.  The geometric patterns, angelic and demonic faces and forms, animal and insectoid beings flowing all into each other, into and out of the background pattern, like a swirling animated wallpaper. 

Some of this was anxiety-causing, as I was along for the ride, that "having taken the red pill" feeling (from the movie, The Matrix), meant I could not turn away from the sights I had arranged for myself.  Moving through a multitude of geometrical portals, the inner layers of my psyche, *the* psyche of the universe, for that is what the mushroom revealed: I am the universe, and the universe is me, or rather, "I" am what the universe is doing.  I am not my body, nor the space outside my body.  Rather, I am the interaction between my body and the universe outside of it, the connection between, and not exclusively one or the other, but necessarily both.

One recurring theme was the futility of human endeavor.  In all of human activity, there are but two choices: to act or not to act, to be or not to be.  One image was that of a man, stumbling short-sightedly forward after some trinket dangled before him by a more powerful and higher-dimensional being.  This image took many forms, embodied pretty much all of human activity, but spun back to the futility of trying.  The other image was that of meditation: doing nothing.  A turning away from the futility of activity, to a deeper sense of knowing that comes from the stillness within.  Our unconscious knowledge is much deeper and stronger than any knowledge or wisdom we can consciously acquire.  What's a hundred years' experience, compared to the long eons of biological evolution contained in our very cells?  The meditation state is purposeless: not to fill any human biological need, therefore too much of it would lead to death.

The alternative was clear: either futile activity or futile inactivity.  One or zero.  A middle path might be possible, but any action or inaction would eventually be the same: rooted in the physical world, the illusion.  What was real was the underlying eternal consciousness of the universe.  I was the underlying consciousness, what we call divine.  I could still feel my ego present, but it had been subsumed by this timeless, spaceless, everything-and-nothing feeling.

This mishmash of images, feelings, and experience came at me for about an hour, before I felt able to sit up and take in my physical surroundings.  I was still at burning man, coming up on the peak of the event, the man burn.  The street was filled with groups of revelers, lit up by EL wire, LED's, and glowsticks.  All moving steadily downstream, towards the Man.  I was still on playa, happy, and coasting on mushrooms. 

The rest of the night was communing with my fellow burners and taking care of my body's needs.