Some reflections on Burning Man 2007
By moontroll
My second trip to the desert was
even better than the first, which surprises me. I wasn't as
walloped upside the head this time and blown away--I had a better
sense of what to expect, but I was worried that those expectations
might get in the way of pure experience. But I think the approach I
took this year, working for months with the Boogie Universal family
on the Boogie Pyramid, camping and living collectively, and having
Edub and Scotty as my partners, took it to a new level. The whole 3
month-long pyramid project process was so fun and interesting, and
an amazing way to meet new peeps in one's own community. Going down
there as a group, working our asses off for three straight days
sun-up to sun-down, building the pyramid and domes and camp and
kitchen and furniture, hosting dance parties, going through two
severe dust storms together (the first one took down our pyramid --
spanked it hard – more on that later…) All of these things made the
experience way more interesting than my virginal year. The first
year I was more of a lurker, walking around with my mind blown
observing all of the delights. This year, the Boogie created
delights for others, almost like community service. Being hands-on
and involved in acts of creative creation and giving is, I’ve
discovered, the true essence of Burning Man.
One evening, before the Boogie
Pyramid bit the dust (literally), I morphed into DJ Playaduster and
hosted a memorable Purple Prince party at Boogie Universal. It was
listed in the Events Guide, and hundreds of people eventually
showed up, many dressed in their finest purple, to get their funk
on. I was shy at first and wanted to be an invisible DJ, like in my
podcasting, throwing down the funk but not in the spotlight. Then I
realized that it was my moment to truly go off, and so DJ
Playaduster took over, and he became a rock star. People worshipped
him at his purple altar of dirty funk. I spun Prince vinyl for over
three hours and people couldn't get enough of it -- I had to play
"Erotic City" and "Darling Nikki" several times because those are
his naughtiest songs and they got the naughtiest reactions on the
dance floor. I closed with “Purple Rain”, of course, which involved
a huge group singalong and lighters in the air. Wow. You really had
to be there to feel the group-love one-mind that filled the pyramid
that night. When it was over, I was met by many Boogiers, hugging
me, so happy. Definitely a high water mark in my life of sharing
and loving music.
Soon after, Edub proffered a warm
mug of traveler’s tea -- I could write for hours about what
transpired that night…it was so rich and full of sensory
overloading and dervishy dancing and wild freedom and good friends.
One of the most perfect nights of my entire life, really. I
eventually broke off from the group -- actually we all splintered
off on our own journeys as the fungal powers overcame us and we
heard different voices calling us to different vortexes-- and I had
an amazing solo Deep Playa bike ride excursion, where I came across
alien life-forms, mobile DJ stations playing "nerf beats", fire
sculptures, tea yurts, pulsing beacons, neon strippers, rowdy
pirates and zones of ultimate peace and satisfaction sitting on the
open playa with a rolled smoke, purple wig and ice-cold Mirror
Pond....
That night was but one night of a whole slew of mystical magic
experiences -- 10 days in total -- all leading up to Saturday
night, the BURN, which was the ultimate peak, and not a night I can
cover in words just yet.
All week, Scotty was in his most perfect zone I've ever seen him
in, a freespace where Scotty could realize his full Scottyness with
no limits or judgement. He was a God, and the God's name was
Hekter. When you were with Hekter, everything worked out smooth.
You might not understand what he was philosophizing about, but you
could have complete trust in his ability to realize magic in
manifest form. He made this amazing cocktail we drank all week that
was like a vodka punch, but soaked in handpicked Selkirk
huckleberries and Methow mint, also handgathered -- it was Hekter's
Nekter, sometimes Hekter's Pickle Sauce, and it got dankier and
dankier as the week progressed and the berries mushed down and the
mint dissolved. It energized your lifeforce and kept you going on
when things got rough.
It was most excellent being with Edubious too, for he had the eyes
and wonder of a first-timer, and he too came in to his true self in
a way I've never seen or experienced before-- he had an experience
where he came face to face with, as he put it, his Tribe. Soul
Tribe. His people. I know it was true because I saw the fire in his
eyes. And damn, provided the right beats and flow, that boy knows
how to step on it!
And we danced. Oh my
god…we danced. My first year, like I mentioned, I kinda hung on the
outskirts of everything, taking it all in. This time I plunged in
headfirst without a life preserver, urged on by Hekter and E,
neither of whom ever held back. I don't think I've ever shook ma’
white booty like that before. The only thing I can even compare it
to would be some of the deep-trance grooving that Jerry’s guitar
could inspire, but that isn't a good comparison really -- such
different contexts. The music all sounded so, so, so good – I think
I actually received most of the week’s nutrition from simply
listening to the nighttime music. The grooves were DJ blends like
I've never heard before, like music from the frontiers of music,
new creations, heavy beats and thick grooves, highly processed and
multi-filtered. The music always seemed inspired by specific
locations, proximity to specific art installations, crowd vibes,
position of the moon, distance to the sunrise and other myriad
environmental influences.
It was all electronica-based, but not the shitty kind of dull
wallpaper beats you'd hear at lame dance clubs spinning generic
rave music with no flavor. This music was fresh and alive and
breathing; it blended dancehall, hiphop, space, funk, dub -- it
blipped and skipped and stuttered and dropped the bass like a piano
from a 20-story building on to my soul! I think I heard Beck,
Spearhead, Marley, Metallica, all mixed in to this omnipresent,
multidirectional, everlasting playagroove. The beat was always
there, waiting to be accessed, offered freely. It just never quit.
My soul and feets aligned to it early in the week, and I kept on
the One from there on out. I could pick up the groove nearly
anywhere and at anytime. It was my pulse.
Granted, I was "enhanced" pretty much every night out in Black Rock
City, and the variety of substances I infused in to my body was
intense. But it all felt like medicine to me, like I was a mad
scientist playing around with different chemical combinations, all
in service of getting the fuck out of my "normal" mindset and to a
higher, deeper plane of existence. How often do I have the
opportunity to do that: to be a cosmic explorer, a psychic
spelunker, a fugitive from the system? How often are we in a
position where things are free and safe enough to go exploring the
undersides of our souls? To try out different approaches to
reality? To play with perceptions and don new identities like
changing clothes? I relish the opportunity. I savor the
possibilities. I require it from time to time, and I give thanks
that I have the opportunity to do that work, have that fun, go wild
in the desert.
When you have 40,000+ people all shooting for the moon together,
trying to get to that place of deep cosmic inspiration, true magic
is possible. We felt it everywhere, in every interaction, with
beings both inorganic and organic. All week long, we called our
dreams in to reality. It was quite simple, really -- ask for it,
and it will come. I don’t mean to get all “Fields of Dreams” on
you, but it really worked.
But eventually, the mirage in the desert fades away. This
phenomenal, phenomenological experiment in utopia and community and
magic and hedonism and creativity and freedom of expression gets
packed up pretty quick after the Man is reduced to ashes, and the
Burner tribe scatters in all directions.
Once the Man is down and you are watching the Sunday sunrise light
up the playa and shine starkly upon the aftermath of the universe's
biggest, craziest, wildest throw-down, you begin to feel your
mortality. You start to feel the effects of all those substances
and lack of sleep and weird eating habits and hours upon hours of
bike riding and dancing and exposure to too much sun and
dust.
Man, hitting that wall come
Sunday, last day of the gathering, is somethin' harsh and heavy....
the sad packing up of all your dusty, scattered possessions
(“Where’d I leave that tutu? Why is my toothbrush in my shoe? Who’s
g-string-wearing garden gnome is this?”), the slow crawl off the
playa and out of the Nevada desert, up empty eastern Oregon,
crossing the Columbia back into the cloudy dank, trailing a big
dust cloud behind you the whole way, is a rough journey. Everything
you brought down with you is trashed, fingernails and toenails
painted a weird silver and hair in dreadlocks, car infiltrated by a
fine dust in every possible crevice, insides knotted up and mind
completely spent.
The only good thing about that bleary passage back home was the
opportunity to process everything with my fellow traveler Edubious
for hours and hours. This is an important step in the reintegration
process. You are so in the moment and in the flow all week long
that there is hardly a chance to size things up or organize stimuli
or interpret cosmic events. We talked the Burn out for 1,000 miles,
taking notes, recording stories, sketching out timelines, shedding
a few tears, slowly returning to the self we left back home.
But hopefully we don't simply step back in to that old shell, that
well-worn personality and ego that we inhabited before the Burn.
The goal is to take some of what we learned or experienced and find
ways to integrate the best of it in to our daily life. And that is
really hard. Those first few weeks are really rough. Unreasonably
difficult. Strangely painful and disorienting. We were straddling
two different worlds and it is an uncomfortable position to be in.
It was very difficult for me to be in the company of anybody but
people I burned with, especially Edubious and Hekter and our new
"4th Broke Dude," Ramona Mayhem of Bainbridge Island. I'm sure it
is hard for our people back home too, cuz it is all you want to
talk about! It is all you can think about!
And then you are sitting in front of a computer in a cubicle at
work and the contrast to the freedom of the desert couldn't be any
starker....
Work it out. You work it out…
Soon enough, Hekter traveled over the mountains for a week in
Sunnyland, and we were joined on the weekend by Ramona and
Edubious, and then we got together with the Boogie crew on the
dancefloor for one more dose of wigs, hugging and dancing. That
reunion, 2 weeks ago, helped me to kind of bookend my whole
experience and be able to bring it to some sort of closure. Not
closed off or shut down, but just put away to the side so I can be
ready to meet what comes next here in this world. It feels like
something that is in a drawer, giving off a glow, and I can open
the drawer and recharge myself a bit from that glow. It is always
near at hand. But I haven’t yet learned the secret skill of of
basking in the glow while still functioning in this other
world...
--
moontroll, November 2007
