Hey friends and family and curious folks. I started telling a few people about our time in the desert and I quickly realized that I would be repeating myself over and over again to each new person. Already the tale was becoming rehearsed. SO not Burning Man. What about Immediacy? and Radical Self Expression? and my Civic Responsibility to share the true experience?
Already feeling like I’m losing some of you with the eye rolling and such. I apologize for any future self-indulgence making. Feel free to exit.
Soooooo…..how was it?
But first, if you need the backstory or philosophy or whatever, the folks at Burningman.org would do a much better job than I. Go spend some time there.
Anyway, here’s my small take, and then I’ll let my pictures tell the story. Burning Man is hard. It’s expensive and requires plans upon plans upon plans. Tickets are tricky and arrangements trickier. I did almost nothing else for the month leading up to the trip. As Jack Blakey puts it so well, “The number one rule of Burning Man is NEVER STOP TALKING ABOUT BURNING MAN.” It was an obsession. What are the best goggles? How do I make sure all my stuff doesn’t fly away in a dust storm? How will I keep my hair from locking up on the first day? I need more costumes. How much water should I bring? What kind of lights do I need? What is Playa Foot? I need more costumes. Do I really need 100 extra batteries? 7 packs of baby wipes? 80 ziploc bags? What is the best shade structure and how do I keep it from also flying away? Port-a-Potties for EIGHT DAYS? I need more costumes.
The anticipation was agonizing. Exciting for sure, but my poor kids. You all know me pretty well. I rarely give anything less than 97% (i.e. this blog).
I drove a rented RV from Chicago with my dearest Christina Blakey (Chris flew directly to the Playa mid-week). Three days and 2,000 miles across the country. A total blast, but enough with the Thelma and Louise.
Funny thing, the second we left the paved road onto the desert, butterflies gone. All that silly nervous planning, silly Lauren.
Sooooo….how was it?
It was all the things and so much more. Everyone says it, but it’s true. It can’t be described.
It’s the “HOLY SH**!!” the first time you reach the Playa on bike and see how insanely immense it all is. It’s your slack jaw at the lit up ocean-liner, or dragon, or pirate ship, or flaming octopus, or 40ft tall vacuum cleaner cruising by at midnight. It’s seeing a dust storm and knowing in 30 seconds you won’t see your hand in front of your face. It’s the pin drop quiet of 30,000 people watching the temple burn beautifully to the ground. It’s the realization that you’ll only see 20% of what is there. It’s thinking you’ll probably not meet that many new people (you have enough friends already) and then find yourself in 30 really awesome conversations with some very very amazing people. It’s the constant umpha, umpha, umpha, of EDM. It’s the joy of stumbling upon live music – marching band, orchestra, cuban rhythm, karaoke. It’s the dust. It’s the dust. So. Much. Dust.
It’s not for everyone. But it kind of is.
Suuuuuuuuuper deep. So here are some pictures. Ok, a lot of pictures. And video. I’ll never speak of it again. I promise.







Here is a bunch of art on the Playa







Hey look, there’s David Silverman playing the flaming tuba next to all his art. Normal.



Fireman Danny was nervous about this one. EL PULPO MECHANICO
A lovely break from the massive sound cars
Which segues nicely into this clip…….














And then I finally squeezed in the ONE thing that was on my to do list, the last morning, the last song.


You’re still here? Ugh, that was so much photo vomit all over your screen.
Til next time. Whaaat??
Lauren