Wednesday, September 3, 2008
said Prometheus to the People
I went to burning man.
I went to a desert rave art utopia.
I learned why it's impossible to explain it to other people, but I'll try. I also did an art project there (pictures to come later).
You learn to love dust-storms. no showers. the feeling of sunshine on your breasts. strangers. pyrotechnics.
Walking the city is like walking in planetarium. you see the curvature of the earth. the moonrise. the stars thick, spread like a blanket. sunrises that turn mountains fuchsia.
Everyone says hi. smiles and hugs you. gives you gifts of forget-me-not seeds and margaritas.
You do more drugs than you ever thought possible. you sleep 3 hours (from sunrise to when it's too hot to stay in your tent). You eat lots of easily made quesadillas and pb&j.
you bike on acid. wander with new york city dj's on 2-CB. kiss boys in lingerie. get hugs from a woman in butterfly costume who cocoons you and let you be reborn. contact dance with beautiful isreali boys.
You get shrooms from the boy in the camp next door who has a crush on you. hula hoop to drum and bass. dance till your thighs give each-other hickies. learn that rainbow flipping is shrooms and acid.
You wear more LED lights than ever possible. watch an 80 ft man burn to ash. run around it. hug the firemen. pee in porta potties for a week. fall in love with bass all over again.
You forget about the outside world. about money. about responsibilities. about facebook and myspace.
There is only the epic sun salutation dance at 7 am when the world gives birth to the sun and daft punk's one more time comes on. there is only the cumshot you suck out of a girl's plastic dick-shaped water bottle that's really khalua vodka and whipped cream. There is only the coconut curry that the hippies next door brought over for communal dinner.
You learn to hug instead of handshake. stitwalk without help. kiss exactly who you want to. wear bright colors. take drugs to enhance the overwhelming beauty of life. burn away your insecurities. rise up above the flames, touching the universe, infinitely aware that there is nothing between you and the galaxy.
You drive away. you clean your tent. you miss the free orange juice and pancakes. you miss the chance run-ins, the playa providing, the serendipity of getting everything you ever needed- just by asking. you miss picking up strange pretty girls to become your campmates. you miss being surrounded by art.
you come home and check your email and worry about your job and rent and try hard not to forget that feeling.
I will tell you specific stories later.
for now I'm in LA, discovering coves and attending poetry slams. eating sushi and in & out burgers.
favorite quote from burning man
"she may not have anything on, but she's definitely on something!"