Burning Man!!!
Game on. Today is is where the rubber meets the road in terms of final budget decisions: More food and alcohol or that pink wig I've been eyeing at that unYelped store on Market Street. You know what I want. I want to feel skinny and have long pink hair.
Camp gear, sexy big girl underwear, Joe's Leather, Etc. hat and shorts (wooohooo), our almost matching combat boots, fishnets, real chinchilla wrap and fake fur coats. It's all here, ready to be plunged into ziplock bags and buried in dustproofing bins for transport.
Joseph set off this morning, his truck fully loaded. Zoe and Ian leave whenever their camp is battened down for the road. Zoe: "Sometime between 9:00 am and 2:00pm, which means around 5:00pm."
Toes painted, bikinis waxed, abs crunched. Heads shrunken.
All this preparation and yet there is no way to fully prepare. You can say whatever you want...That last year was the last good year. Or 1996 was the peak year. Or, there's no way it can work with 60,000 people.
You are wrong.
It works.
Can you imagine feeling both the most intense connection to the universe and excruciating solitude at the same time? Extreme immediacy.
You probably can. I recall that feeling in childbirth: Everyone's helping, holding, touching, pushing, cradling you, but you are absolutely alone in your task.
Sometimes you can get there on really good drugs, but there are no guarantees.
The Black Rock Desert itself is a magical setting, and the collaborative imagination that creates the city for just one week promotes an environmental mindset that increases the chances for radical personal transformation.
No guarantees.
But if one steps onto the Playa with an open spirit, and lets go of all expectations, and, may I add, the right wig, anything can happen.
Game on. Today is is where the rubber meets the road in terms of final budget decisions: More food and alcohol or that pink wig I've been eyeing at that unYelped store on Market Street. You know what I want. I want to feel skinny and have long pink hair.
Camp gear, sexy big girl underwear, Joe's Leather, Etc. hat and shorts (wooohooo), our almost matching combat boots, fishnets, real chinchilla wrap and fake fur coats. It's all here, ready to be plunged into ziplock bags and buried in dustproofing bins for transport.
Joseph set off this morning, his truck fully loaded. Zoe and Ian leave whenever their camp is battened down for the road. Zoe: "Sometime between 9:00 am and 2:00pm, which means around 5:00pm."
Toes painted, bikinis waxed, abs crunched. Heads shrunken.
All this preparation and yet there is no way to fully prepare. You can say whatever you want...That last year was the last good year. Or 1996 was the peak year. Or, there's no way it can work with 60,000 people.
You are wrong.
It works.
Can you imagine feeling both the most intense connection to the universe and excruciating solitude at the same time? Extreme immediacy.
You probably can. I recall that feeling in childbirth: Everyone's helping, holding, touching, pushing, cradling you, but you are absolutely alone in your task.
Sometimes you can get there on really good drugs, but there are no guarantees.
The Black Rock Desert itself is a magical setting, and the collaborative imagination that creates the city for just one week promotes an environmental mindset that increases the chances for radical personal transformation.
No guarantees.
But if one steps onto the Playa with an open spirit, and lets go of all expectations, and, may I add, the right wig, anything can happen.
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