(aka: Burningman)

So, seemingly how only about 50,000 people out of the billions of humans than exist on this planet made the yearly trek out to the Nevada desert, there is much work to do in the years to come. Those that did make it out comprised some of the most beautiful, creative, giving, honest, and genuine people I’ve ever come across. Yes, with any group as large as those who attended BM this year, the Bell Curve exists… but for the vast majority, it/they really took my breath away.

The pre-trip mania of packing and planning; the multiple-travel-medium trip that put my soon-to-be-dusty hide at the gate of Black Rock City; the ecstatic first Sunday of running about in the dust storm attempting to establish landmarks; the next 4 days of jubilation searching and finding and consuming and admiring and Loving; the home stretch days of alternating art tours and hiding/resting in camp during the worst storm I’ve ever experienced; and finally the Burns (The Man, The Bummer, Temple). Why no procession at either The Man or Temple??? Looking back at Temple when it was just about a small layer of embers and a few polls still standing and seeing at least 20,000 people all experiencing the Burn in their own individual way, but still in a community who are actively attempting to change the world was greatness… but the dark and frigid winds of closure blowing yet another blinding dust storm directly towards that very crowd made my decision to depart right afterwards the right one. Even the trek back to my beloved O.C. was, as always, filled with unspecified emotion and exhaustion (is it normal to sleep 17 hours straight?).

Another notch on my belt, another notch to be etched in just a couple weeks.