well.
unloaded the truck yesterday. going to wash out my tent, give my bike a vinegar bath, my hands and feet and whole body an oil dip, my hair deep conditioning. Every year is different emotionally, situationally,artisitically, interactively. And this year was no different in its differences.
On sunday night, I got to drive the amb out to the temple burn. Then we tooled around real slow, picking people up and dropping them off, which is not the usual MO for the amb. Then a friend and I drove way out to the trash fence and turned around and played "a house" by Doves and looked back at our city, Black Rock City, our people, our art, our flames and up at the stars and cried and cried for about the 100th time that week.
The last 2 lines of that song is:
"If I ever find myself here again/I'll give everything."
Thankfully I know I will find myself there again, in a little less than a year. And if BM gets shut down, if it never can happen again, I know that I did give everything. And everything and everyone shined it right back to me. The lessons one learns in that short period of time....refilter and want to expand out into this daily humdrum life...
As we were leaving the BRC the next day after harrowing hours of breaking down a camp of 20+ people with only 7 left to do it, my cohort wondered why this place was just so important to us that we break our backs, our bank accounts, our brains, trying to get out and back every year. Through the window was the open playa blue/purple silouhettes of the peaks that surround the salt flats and the sun breaking across the sky in "god beams"....
Then we were driving through the stripmalls and oil silos of the suburbs of Sacramento garish and plain and without inpiration, in the midst of commuters driving their 3 hour drive every morning and didn't even have to wonder anymore.
And I can't wait to go back...
unloaded the truck yesterday. going to wash out my tent, give my bike a vinegar bath, my hands and feet and whole body an oil dip, my hair deep conditioning. Every year is different emotionally, situationally,artisitically, interactively. And this year was no different in its differences.
On sunday night, I got to drive the amb out to the temple burn. Then we tooled around real slow, picking people up and dropping them off, which is not the usual MO for the amb. Then a friend and I drove way out to the trash fence and turned around and played "a house" by Doves and looked back at our city, Black Rock City, our people, our art, our flames and up at the stars and cried and cried for about the 100th time that week.
The last 2 lines of that song is:
"If I ever find myself here again/I'll give everything."
Thankfully I know I will find myself there again, in a little less than a year. And if BM gets shut down, if it never can happen again, I know that I did give everything. And everything and everyone shined it right back to me. The lessons one learns in that short period of time....refilter and want to expand out into this daily humdrum life...
As we were leaving the BRC the next day after harrowing hours of breaking down a camp of 20+ people with only 7 left to do it, my cohort wondered why this place was just so important to us that we break our backs, our bank accounts, our brains, trying to get out and back every year. Through the window was the open playa blue/purple silouhettes of the peaks that surround the salt flats and the sun breaking across the sky in "god beams"....
Then we were driving through the stripmalls and oil silos of the suburbs of Sacramento garish and plain and without inpiration, in the midst of commuters driving their 3 hour drive every morning and didn't even have to wonder anymore.
And I can't wait to go back...
VIEW 8 of 8 COMMENTS
sad.
glad you had a (as usual) wonderful experience though
I was told through a third party.
I wasn't happy. I was going to go hurt your work but was held back by a bunch of teenagers with forties.
I yelled loud obscenities, though.
poop.
(p.s. obsidities sounds like obsenities said with a stuffed up nose