[Burning Man] still more
Sep. 25th, 2007 10:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
magidIt seems like so little time has passed, yet four weeks ago today I fell off my (borrowed) bike on the playa. I can still feel the effects in the muscle I landed on hardest (I tend to forget how slowly muscles heal compared to bruises and cuts). I was reminded again as I watched the gorgeous full moon rise, as full as the night of the eclipse, but over a much more human-tamed space.
Which are indications that I really should write whatever posts I'm going to make about the event!
Some art:
- Double diesel was impressive to view (how did they do that, and install it?), and scary to watch as someone climbed up the outside. I'm not afraid of heights usually, but this I couldn't imagine climbing...
- This electric giraffe was a vehicle, but I only saw him parked. He was still very sweet, talking and swiveling his ears, though I hadn't figured out that he was a giraffe (rather than a more generic large beast). Oops.
- On the back wall of center camp, a bunch of black and white photos of people holding up paper with their answer to "Why do you do what you do?" It was fascinating, especially when comparing random people to playa people to people at Harvard Business School. There were some pretty murals along there too, but they didn't stay with me as much as these photos.
Random other moments:
- Wearing my peace shirt for the first time, and realizing that I felt much more a part of things when I was wearing things I'd effected.
- Going out to the temple multiple times, seeing how it was slowly covered in people's thoughts and memories. It was a contemplative sort of space, but also emotional, people deciding what to leave there, so they could start their life after (whatever). Once a woman was sobbing, and I was glad she was being hugged by two people as she did.
- On a trip to central camp one hot morning, stopping at a tricycle with a sign for milk and cookies. The woman had an old-fashioned ice box to keep the milk (lactose free or regular) cold, plastic champagne glasses, and chocolate chip cookies (with or without nuts). She was also giving out earrings or necklaces, a silvery Man in a circle.
- On the same trip, we were stopped by a tall Santa (on stilts) as we came out to Esplanade, asking if we'd been naughty or nice. If we'd been naughty, we had to put something in his sack. If nice, we'd get something from the sack. One woman said she'd been naughty, but had nothing to give. He said that she had to tell how she'd been naughty. It took her a little while to say it, but she did: "I dissed my brother." Santa wouldn't let it go at that; that wasn't enough. And she continued: "And he died a week later." And anyone could see that she felt horrible about it. He told her that she'd put it in his sack now, and she could leave it behind. And I think she finally could find some peace from it.
- As we set up the dome that first morning, my nails started breaking. I don't know whether it was the dryness or something else, but it was strange to have so many go at once. I wonder if more hydration beforehand would've helped...
- We saw some amazing poi spinners, very talented. But that was an expected use of fire. I didn't expect to see flaming bikes go by.
- I got to see the cupcake cars!
- The way from center camp to the Man is path delineated by a double row of streetlamps. Every evening, lamplighters take many lanterns and hooks at the end of long sticks to hang the lanterns up so high, and every morning, they collect them all again. It felt wonderfully 18th century.
- On a meander one night, I saw a little open-air booth with a computer screen on the outside, and what looked like a laptop inside. I was on a quest to find someone a cup of Intarwebs, so I asked if they were connected. They weren't, but did I want to sing karaoke, using this solar-powered computer? I didn't, but listened to another woman sing a lovely song I'd never heard before.
- I'm still wondering how much of my nose-throat ickiness was overtiredness, how much was being around so many people, and how much was psychosomatic, seeing all the dust in the air at night in the glare of my headlight. I'd really like to not have that happen again, especially not for pretty much the whole time.
- After the Burn, I wasn't in the mood to join the masses watching the derrick burn (Crude Awakening). I wanted to see it, even though it felt like it was too much, a waste of resources just to be the biggest (yes, at a green-themed event. sort of, anyway), but not with so many people around. I went back to camp, then walked down the street to Mallards (corner of 4:00 and Estuary, the corner closest to our camp), who had a huge dome, at least two stories high. They had a platform on top, and I asked it I could go up to watch from there, not realizing that the way up involved climbing two ladders lashed together.... that swayed rather alarmingly side to side. A lot. I figured dozens and dozens of people had climbed by now, so it wasn't likely to collapse under me, but I also avoided looking at my swaying feet. The platform was a plywood trapezoid, not very large at all, no railings or anything to keep the unwary from a fall. I never felt unstable, but I could vividly picture myself going over the edge and through the fabric of the dome, which made me that much more careful. There were a handful of other people up there, most of them stoned or under some other kind of influence. It made one of the older Mallards loquacious, telling fabulous tales that spoke of truth whether or not they were literally true. I enjoyed the stories, but was terrified he'd lose his balance: he wasn't on the platform at all, just sitting on one of the pipes of the dome. We chatted, and waited. And waited. And waited. Someone next door called up to ask whether it was burning yet. Nope. And this after it had been delayed a night. I realized I didn't want to just sit around waiting for something to happen on someone else's schedule. A couple of other people decided the same thing, and we went down the ladder one at a time (the scariest part this time was getting onto the ladder at the top and avoiding hitting my head on the pipes that were very close. Of course, the derrick started burning not long after that, lighting up the whole eastern sky.
- So many things I wish I'd seen/done/experienced: more of the art on the playa, more classes, getting at least one edition of one of the newspapers, silk screening a T-shirt (I saw someone with the gorgeous Green Man design, and regretted this more), talking with more people, getting a massage, getting an appointment at Astral Hair Washing, making it to the library, finding other Bostonians, going to the circus dome, going to the necklace making place near central camp, and so on, and so on, and so on. Next time....
Which are indications that I really should write whatever posts I'm going to make about the event!
Some art:
- Double diesel was impressive to view (how did they do that, and install it?), and scary to watch as someone climbed up the outside. I'm not afraid of heights usually, but this I couldn't imagine climbing...
- This electric giraffe was a vehicle, but I only saw him parked. He was still very sweet, talking and swiveling his ears, though I hadn't figured out that he was a giraffe (rather than a more generic large beast). Oops.
- On the back wall of center camp, a bunch of black and white photos of people holding up paper with their answer to "Why do you do what you do?" It was fascinating, especially when comparing random people to playa people to people at Harvard Business School. There were some pretty murals along there too, but they didn't stay with me as much as these photos.
Random other moments:
- Wearing my peace shirt for the first time, and realizing that I felt much more a part of things when I was wearing things I'd effected.
- Going out to the temple multiple times, seeing how it was slowly covered in people's thoughts and memories. It was a contemplative sort of space, but also emotional, people deciding what to leave there, so they could start their life after (whatever). Once a woman was sobbing, and I was glad she was being hugged by two people as she did.
- On a trip to central camp one hot morning, stopping at a tricycle with a sign for milk and cookies. The woman had an old-fashioned ice box to keep the milk (lactose free or regular) cold, plastic champagne glasses, and chocolate chip cookies (with or without nuts). She was also giving out earrings or necklaces, a silvery Man in a circle.
- On the same trip, we were stopped by a tall Santa (on stilts) as we came out to Esplanade, asking if we'd been naughty or nice. If we'd been naughty, we had to put something in his sack. If nice, we'd get something from the sack. One woman said she'd been naughty, but had nothing to give. He said that she had to tell how she'd been naughty. It took her a little while to say it, but she did: "I dissed my brother." Santa wouldn't let it go at that; that wasn't enough. And she continued: "And he died a week later." And anyone could see that she felt horrible about it. He told her that she'd put it in his sack now, and she could leave it behind. And I think she finally could find some peace from it.
- As we set up the dome that first morning, my nails started breaking. I don't know whether it was the dryness or something else, but it was strange to have so many go at once. I wonder if more hydration beforehand would've helped...
- We saw some amazing poi spinners, very talented. But that was an expected use of fire. I didn't expect to see flaming bikes go by.
- I got to see the cupcake cars!
- The way from center camp to the Man is path delineated by a double row of streetlamps. Every evening, lamplighters take many lanterns and hooks at the end of long sticks to hang the lanterns up so high, and every morning, they collect them all again. It felt wonderfully 18th century.
- On a meander one night, I saw a little open-air booth with a computer screen on the outside, and what looked like a laptop inside. I was on a quest to find someone a cup of Intarwebs, so I asked if they were connected. They weren't, but did I want to sing karaoke, using this solar-powered computer? I didn't, but listened to another woman sing a lovely song I'd never heard before.
- I'm still wondering how much of my nose-throat ickiness was overtiredness, how much was being around so many people, and how much was psychosomatic, seeing all the dust in the air at night in the glare of my headlight. I'd really like to not have that happen again, especially not for pretty much the whole time.
- After the Burn, I wasn't in the mood to join the masses watching the derrick burn (Crude Awakening). I wanted to see it, even though it felt like it was too much, a waste of resources just to be the biggest (yes, at a green-themed event. sort of, anyway), but not with so many people around. I went back to camp, then walked down the street to Mallards (corner of 4:00 and Estuary, the corner closest to our camp), who had a huge dome, at least two stories high. They had a platform on top, and I asked it I could go up to watch from there, not realizing that the way up involved climbing two ladders lashed together.... that swayed rather alarmingly side to side. A lot. I figured dozens and dozens of people had climbed by now, so it wasn't likely to collapse under me, but I also avoided looking at my swaying feet. The platform was a plywood trapezoid, not very large at all, no railings or anything to keep the unwary from a fall. I never felt unstable, but I could vividly picture myself going over the edge and through the fabric of the dome, which made me that much more careful. There were a handful of other people up there, most of them stoned or under some other kind of influence. It made one of the older Mallards loquacious, telling fabulous tales that spoke of truth whether or not they were literally true. I enjoyed the stories, but was terrified he'd lose his balance: he wasn't on the platform at all, just sitting on one of the pipes of the dome. We chatted, and waited. And waited. And waited. Someone next door called up to ask whether it was burning yet. Nope. And this after it had been delayed a night. I realized I didn't want to just sit around waiting for something to happen on someone else's schedule. A couple of other people decided the same thing, and we went down the ladder one at a time (the scariest part this time was getting onto the ladder at the top and avoiding hitting my head on the pipes that were very close. Of course, the derrick started burning not long after that, lighting up the whole eastern sky.
- So many things I wish I'd seen/done/experienced: more of the art on the playa, more classes, getting at least one edition of one of the newspapers, silk screening a T-shirt (I saw someone with the gorgeous Green Man design, and regretted this more), talking with more people, getting a massage, getting an appointment at Astral Hair Washing, making it to the library, finding other Bostonians, going to the circus dome, going to the necklace making place near central camp, and so on, and so on, and so on. Next time....
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no subject
Date: 2007-09-26 12:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-26 01:28 pm (UTC)Interestingly, Powerfrau said that this was very much in the vein of earlier (smaller) years, being much more in one's face, demanding interaction (and not always in a nice way).
no subject
Date: 2007-09-27 05:56 am (UTC)I often don't knwo why I go--the white-out dust storms make me feel like I understand why I am there. They also make me feel more alive.
no subject
Date: 2007-09-30 12:29 am (UTC)I don't know that I'd say it was a sad thing that it's impossible for one person to encompass. I mean, if it used to be, and now isn't, that's one thing, but from this newbie's perspective, it was always going to be something vaster than I could ever hope to experience (just look at the schedule of events...).
I admit that some of actual minutes in the storm Friday were pretty miserable (damn that runny nose), but it made me feel stronger to be out in it, to feel that I could cope with it. (Only afterward did it even occur to me that I knew where there was a key to the truck, if I'd wanted a mostly dust-free place to sit out storms. I think not feeling like I had that option was good for me, making me see that they weren't, in fact, beyond what I could face.)
no subject
Date: 2007-10-04 07:23 pm (UTC)Plus, playing Duck/Duck/Goose in the yurt makes a great story.
no subject
Date: 2007-10-06 11:29 pm (UTC)I'd almost forgotten duck-duck-goose! I still think there are lots of more interesting variants than the avian version...
Oh, and the subsequent rambly-sentence story, too.