and, make no mistake about it, the playa delivers.
but it will kick your ass in the process.
and you will find yourself whimpering in your tent.
and yet you will emerge enlightened.
inspired.
empowered.
fulfilled.
dirty. and stanky.
and ultimately relieved.
to be home.
because you're never going back.
until next year rolls around.
by all accounts, this was a kick ass year for the burn. the art was fantastic, the weather was superb, the energy was palpable, and the chaos was everywhere.
anyone who's been to the playa will tell you: weird shit happens in the desert. coincidence-like stuff. tell someone you could really go for a cantalope, and the guy behind you has two. and the girl next to him has a bottle of vodka. and the next thing you know you're doing vodka shots out of a cantalope.
geez i could really go for a slim jim.
got it.
ding dong. [book it].
watermelon chapstick. [check].
a 16-foot man in black. with a staff, a skull, and a fluffer with an orange parasol. [spot it].
and there are gremlins. they live in your tent. and they hide shit. and then they put it back. and then they take something else.
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CAMP BOJON... we had another groovy set up this year thanks to the advance team that charged the gates on sunday evening. we called 8:30 and eager home for a week and easily accommodated our 30 or so peeps.
last year's stellar freshmen class returned in force, and we sprinkled in a few first timers to feed the frenzy.
and the ladies were pretty in pink.
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ART INSTALLATIONS... no doubt, the art was deep dish this year. big stuff. little stuff. clever stuff.
the run away winner this year was a monstrosity of an ant-eater structure universally called "The Belgian Waffle." a cadre of folks from Belgium were behind this effort, linking thousands of two by threes (scrap beams from a lumber yard in canada) with a nail gun. they dubbed the project Uchronia based around some mythical story of time travel from the future.
the fire-oozing mother serpent orchestrated by the lotus girls was pretty out of hand as well. a wonder nobody got singed around this creature.
and this doesn't even scratch the surface. there was mind-blowing art at every turn, both large and small. would have taken over a month to check it all out.
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THEME CAMPS... hands down, the DEEP END continues to be the best happy hour on the planet. again. many years runnng...
and a plethora of other outlandish encounters to be had out there. i especially like the hookahdome, as much for the way it sounds as for what it offers.
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ART VEHICLES... a dobule decker caboose, a ferris wheel, a flame throwing grapefruit, and two darting cup cakes. and that just captures what i saw on one trip to the bathroom.
LAST YEAR.
and, of course, all that MOJO. and more. again this year...
a little GAME of cat and mouse...
an all-night TRAIN...
and some old friends...
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THE TEMPLE... the temple was its majestic self, with much the same foot print as last year, and definitely the same sanctity as every year.
i guess it's sometimes hard to look forward to going to the temple...
but i would never consider missing it...
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THE MAN... the man stood tall this year.
and when time came for him to burn, he held his ground quite nobely.
stumbled.
and took a seat on a retaining wall... perhaps to reflect on the ride.
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TIKILA SUNRISE... when a crafty idea strikes a chord. and thrives. it's a good thing, a cause for zelebration.
und eines tuffer acte das folgen
but we put a tiki twist on it, and came out swinging.
the essential ingredients back in the mix: sunrise, remotenes, conniving.
and then a quantum of bamboo. 3 drooblets of rattan. and uno obtgue of totem
stir.
add more. tequila.
sunrise is at precisely 6:24 am. but the glow is well prominent by 5:30.
tikila sunrise official hours: 5am-8am (more or less)
capacity: (42,803). comfortably
terms: two-shot minimum
*: but it's ok to cover your candyass friend
and let the games begin...
alas i do fondly recall. one day. just after... after hours, we took inventory:
duck tape
limes.
grenadine
run's-with-hazmat: "i've got it: i) lime in the mouth; II) seal with duck tape; iii) tilt the grenadine into the nose. 4) shake."
and a kind soul emerged: "i'll do it."
and the legend of Jamal was born.
i marvel. at the feat (yes), but really dig the spirit. shout out to this hall of famer.
and to everyone else who made it out to the edge. so far away, it's a long distance call to center camp. dial 9 to get out. no personal calls...
Year two never blows your mind.
but you're better at it.
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and the sign off from last year holds:
life is fleeting. get it when you can. as best you can:
and Hope. and Fear. for the Future
