And we’re off …

The gates opened last night and the cars and trailers and trucks and mutant vehicles came streaming through, to the whoops and hollers of those just arriving, and from the people welcoming them Home. All the weeks and months of work had coalesced into this moment of relief and joy and anticipation and excitement. The guests have arrived, and dinner is served.

It was a beautiful night in Black Rock City. There had been steady winds of about 25 mph all day long, and the forecast was for increasing gusts, but when night fell the air was calm. It made for a festive night.

“I love this place!” one person shouted, for no apparent reason. “I love this place more!” answered another.

Out at the Man, cars and bikes and blinking people lined up around the perimeter of the base, waiting for the clock to strike 12 so they could climb the winding staircase to the top. BMIR was broadcasting the countdown, like some mutant version of Dick Clark’s New Years Eve show on TV. When the witching hour arrived, and the radio was playing “Consider yourself, at home! Consider yourself, part of the family!,” up and up the people went to get a view of the Man and a view of the city. Poor Betty June was stationed at one side of the staircase, patiently telling people that the “up” stairwell was on the other side, and then helping people as they made their way down. She’d be on duty till 4 in the morning, and there will be someone stationed there round the clock, all week long, letting people know that one way’s up, and the other way’s down.

Over at Kate’s Raudenbush’s “Altered States,” the work lights blinked off, and then the birdcage glowed red in the darkness. It is just so gorgeous. There was a sweet moment for Kate and the crew; appetizers were spread out inside the dome, champagne corks were popped, and heartfelt words were spoken. “This is for all of you,” Kate said, tearing up. “It just couldn’t have happened without you.”

Then she had everyone, on the count of three, pull out a branch from beneath the table, each person coming away with a little piece of the whole. It was very touching, and they all seemed like family standing there celebrating together.

And the piece really does look like a glowing Capitol building from a distance (it’s designed after the U.S. Senate building). But when you pull up closer you see the Native American-inspired scrollwork on the dome. And then you see the swings in the center and then you are struck by the troubled relationship between Native Americans, the U.S. government, and what it’s like to live where someone says you must.

The open areas beyond the Esplanade have filled in nicely with beautiful and provocative art. The giant red poppy field was glowing in the night, a completely different experience than coming upon it during the day, when the red petals leap out against the ridiculously blue sky. A nearby piece featured centerpieces of translucent multicolored dildos, again, all glowy in the night. More than a couple of people broke out laughing when the came up close enough to see what they were looking at. “Don’t forget to touch them,” one girl squealed.

The morning broke beautifully (after a very obnoxious wake-up call from some person or persons at Center Camp, who thought it would be really cool, I guess, to really really BLAST some early ’80s crappy disco music at, oh, around 5:30 in the morning. All I can say to that is, dude, you are affecting my experience.) (And while we’re on the subject, have you ever noticed how often there is an inverse correlation between the loudness of the music and the number of people at the party? Like, the loudest places are often empty. Not true at all at the kicking dance clubs out on the edge of town; that’s where it really happens. It’s loud, it grooves, DJs get flown in for the gigs, it’s all incredibly smoking. But Center Camp at dawn? Not so much.) (PS: end of rant.)

So the people have been streaming in all day, and now the wind is just blowing and blowing and blowing. The dust blots out everything. It’s not sunny out anymore, it’s just varying shades of brown. I haven’t been able to see the Man all day. Sometimes, you can’t see across the street. Sometimes, you just can’t see a thing; you just stand there and wait for it to pass.

I wonder what it’s like on the perimeter. My guess is the sun is shining out there, and all this looks like a bad dream.

New York camp was spreading out all over the city. For days and days now, Big Apple Burners have been picking up their gear from three huge containers that were shipped across country. More than 300 people rented space in the containers, so that they didn’t have to haul all that stuff themselves. It’s an amazing operation. Everything was packed up in Jersey City weeks ago, put on rails, and three transfers later the containers were put on trucks in Reno for the trip to Black Rock. Of course, the truck drivers got lost, missed the entrance to the Burn, wound up 30 miles down the road, tried to turn around and got stuck in the sand … but all that’s another story.

New York is one of the huge regional Burner operations, and they’re a big part of the scene here. Down the road from where New York was unloading, two huge containers from Boston and another from Philadelphia were distributing gear, the scene something like a pickup dock at Best Buy, only gone all funky and nuts.

Tigger, one of the New York crew, has two camps at the Burn, “one on each side of the Esplanade, so I can sleep where I wind up at night.” Sounds perfectly logical. She calls one place her “pied a tent.” Sweet.

So welcome home, all you who have arrived today. Just a few things to remember:

1) You’re going to lose stuff. Just accept it. Have faith that the missing merchandise will reappear when you make your way home. I haven’t seen my iPhone in 10 days; I’m trusting that somewhere, in all my stuff, it’s waiting for me to find it.
2) This dust will cease. It will. A cold front is coming through, and when it arrives, the wind will die down, it’ll be cooler at night and then only in the 90s during the day, instead of the 100s that it’s been. 3) Understand that by the time you have finally arrived at the most efficient way of organizing your gear, when you know exactly where to find the things you need when you need them, it’s going to be time to go home.
4) WD-40 works really well on messed-up zippers. In a pinch, Chapstick or soap might help, too; and
5) It sounds gross, but it’s true: Piss clear. It’s the way to know you’re hydrating properly.

I've had several people ask me about the fire poi I use. Here's a video showing off my personal set. Note that the split rings I use are EXTREMELY HEAVY DUTY! They are from a deep sea fishing supplier. They are not your average split ring, and unless you get something that can take SEVERAL HUNDRED POUNDS, then don't use split rings at all. You can learn where to order the swivels and hopefully other parts soon in our gear section. I hope this answers everybody's questions :)

This is a picture of the Isis fire heads from salza.se! They give you very big beautiful flames and are surprisingly light for their size. If you order a pair, please write "PLAYPOI SENT ME" in the comments field, and then I get a little percentage of the sale. :)

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Gary Miller of Philadelphia has installed Papover Rubrum Gigaxiticum (the big red poppy) field. Those are solar-powered garden lights in the center, surrounded by cut and riveted aluminum, on PVC pipes that sway in the wind. Can’t wait to see it glowing in the darkness.

We went out to see Kate Raudenbush’s “Altered States” as the sun came up this morning.

Are you packed?

Were you up all night? Have you wrapped up the loose ends? Have you finally decided what will just have to wait until you get back? I know, I know, no way. But just get your mind around it: You’re going to be away for a week, and I promise, the the minute you hit Gerlach the rest of your life is going to seem like it’s a long way away, I guarantee it. It’ll be ok.

Things are going to slow down and become more simple. Your customary items of conversation — the conventions, that new iPhone cover, they’re all going to fall away and you won’t miss them. In their place will come concerns about the basics: food, water, shelter. Oh, and love, friendship and fun. The basics. It’s what’s really important, and it’s pretty much what happens here. Things become more fundamental, and it gets a little easier to live in your true self. You’ll be less connected to the world, but more connected to people.

Sorry. I might have gotten carried away there for a second. It’s happened a couple of times now. I was out at the Temple yesterday, and ran into Shrine, the artist behind it, and I mumbled something about the “feeling” of the Temple emerging, that quiet, contemplative mood that will only get deeper when people start to bring out their own mementos, and you’ll look at the pictures and read the stories and your heart will ache. But I think there was just too much happening for Shrine, too much still to happen, for that feeling to have taken hold for him.

Speaking of the Temple, the major structures seem pretty squared away, and now all the amazing decorative pieces are being welded and attached. But I did hear that there was a bit of a problem with the second level, something about “wobbling,” which you’d have to view as a negtative. This is an unconfirmed report, but this is a blog, so I’m going to take that liberty for now. And the only reason I do it is because I also heard that after some thought about keeping the second level off limits (not really a good option), an engineer arrived and figured out the way to make it all rock solid. So off we go.

The opening is really pressing down upon the city. It doesn’t feel “early” anymore. Trailers and camps are being planted everywhere. It feels impossibly crowded to me now, after all the open space of the past couple of weeks.

It’s only taken one year of being up here early to turn me into one of those people who doesn’t want anyone else to come. It’s gotten crowded enough, thank you very much. Lock the gates now. I LIKE being able to wander around and actually randomly run into someone I know, even if I don’t know all that many people.

Like last night. The bright lights and banners flapping in the fairly light breeze drew me over to Center Camp for a walk-through. It’s at the point where I can’t really comprehend the changes anymore. It’s probably trite and tired for anyone who’s done this before, but for me the amazement is very fresh. Where there was nothing, now there’s everything.

Anyway, after walking around for a little while I was headed back to my little patch of dust when Lexy came up in a golf cart and asked, “What are you doing?” and I said “Not that much. Processing photos.” So we took a little ride in her cart and tried to find the Burners Without Borders party, but when we got there everybody was already asleep. (There really are two kinds of Burners: Those who sleep at night, and those who don’t.) So we bumped and rattled across the dust, just cruising. The Man was lit, beautiful neon work glowing in the darkness. It was kind of funny, though, because it looked like he was shirt-cocking: His head and torso were lit, but his legs were dark.

Then we wandered over to Kate Raudenbush’s beautiful Altered States, bathed in white light. And as we stood there talking and laughing with some of the people working on the project, a glowing jellyfish art car with a blaring sound system pulled up, and three or four people got out and started doing a dervish dance around the piece. And as we stood to the side watching the guy with the Afro and the woman with the flowing clothes dance around the cage, we thought, now there’s the archetypical Burning Man mashup: amazing art, and a bunch of ravers. (And yes, I know it’s not that simple, but it was a pretty perfect juxtaposition.) ,

So we hung out for a little longer, then she dropped me back off near Center Camp, because she gets up at 6 every day to make sure everything is functioning at the Commissary. (About 600 people are eating there every day now, and the task is just huge.) This was around midnight, and Center Camp was still completely buzzing with workers.

This morning you could see that they’ve turned it into a refuge from the sun and wind, and it’s a fine place to kick back and watch the parade of Burners for awhile.
There’s no coffee yet, but there are a whole lot of espresso machines waiting for you. So you don’t have to make that run to get a bag of Blue Bottle if you don’t have time. Cross that off the list.

Other things to think about as you make your final preparations: Go to your pile of clothes. Now cut it in half. You won’t wear them all. Also, the food? You can reduce that by say, oh, a third. You’re not going to eat it all. People are going to feed you. You’re going to have pizza and ice cream and Tenderloin and Thai food and fine chocolate put in front of you, most unexpectedly, and it’s going to be the most delicious thing imaginable. So make things simple for yourself today as you go crazy trying to get ready.

Here’s what you can’t have too much of: fluids (water water water, plus the energy drink of your choice. Forgive me, but I’ve come to the realization that a cold Coca Cola is the thing that works best at reviving me. I don’t drink a lot of Coke normally. Here, i think about it too much). Sunscreen. Moisturizer. Handiwipes (but don’t put them in the Porta Potties). Shade. A place to sit. And maybe it’s because I’ve been tethered to a radio for so long, but now walkie-talkies seem like kind of a good thing to have here. But maybe not.

But the main thing is, just get here. Forget what I said earlier about wanting to lock the gates. It’s not a party till you get here.

The second in our Double Staffs with the Amazing Banyan Series!

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The realities of creating artwork (or a theme camp, or anything else of reasonably large scale) at Burning Man fairly demand a communal effort. In fact, one of the most pertinent questions asked in the art grant discovery process is, “Who is your community?” This seemingly innocuous question is intended to determine whether the artist has identified a support network, a team with whom they will work, fundraise, and build their project.

This communal (and in some cases, consensus-based) creative model has several beneficial effects. First, the likelihood of the project’s success is exponentially increased. Secondly, the community immediately surrounding the artist invariably gels and becomes stronger by virtue of the team’s shared struggle. Finally, and most interestingly, team-based efforts become a sort of modern-day apprenticeship program. Burning Man has seen a number of artists hone their skills on somebody else’s team before venturing forth to head up their own projects.

The compelling part of this dynamic is its cyclically self-perpetuating nature. It carries and nurtures within it the seed of its own continuance. As more artists succeed, in larger and more impressive ways, their community (read: team) gets better at working together in all aspects of the creative process, allowing them to attempt yet more ambitious projects. As these teams grow and improve their skills, more and more apprentices will spin off to become artists in their own right, further feeding the cycle. Indeed, what is sometimes half-jokingly deemed the “Burning Man School of Art” may not be a joke at all. There is certainly ample evidence to attest to the veracity of that seemingly fanciful description.

Many artists could be considered “graduates” of the Burning Man School of Art. They have successfully built upon their experiences creating artwork for the playa to launch artistic careers in the world at large. These artists have exhibited their works (sometimes, with the assistance of Burning Man’s non-profit sister organization, the Black Rock Arts Foundation) in mainstream – or even Main Street – settings outside the event.

Indeed, civic installations of Burning Man art have brought off-playa exposure to some of our community’s most beloved artists. As of this writing, Peter Hudson’s “Homoroborous” delights visitors in downtown San Jose, Michael Christian’s “Koilos” straddles San Francisco’s Hayes Green, and Kate Raudenbush’s “Guardian of Eden” stands proudly outside the Reno Museum of Art. Still other Burning Man artists have “graduated” from the school when pieces they created for Black Rock City were commissioned to appear at other large-scale public events, such as the Coachella (CA), Bonnaroo (TN) and Rothbury (MI) music festivals. Traipsing through the exhibition spaces of these enormous events, one encounters a veritable museum of art from Black Rock City’s past.

In 2008, many of those “graduates” and many “newly enrolled” students will bring new creations to share with us in Black Rock City.

Among them are Michael Christian (“I.T.”, “Hypha”), who returns with a new piece entitled “Elevation”, a 54-foot tall climbable mountain constructed of intricately winding steel ladders, and the Flaming Lotus Girls (“The Serpent Monther”, “Angel of the Apocalypse”), who are developing an altogether new form of fire art construction with their sculpture “Mutopia”, which will use propane not only to create flame, but also to drive its hydraulic mechanisms. New York’s Kate Raudenbush (“Guardian of Eden”) will construct a resplendent replica of the United States Capitol building entitled “Altered State”, incorporating a mirage of mythical creatures and Native American imagery in a skeletally-etched white “birdcage,” complete with swings. Artist-cum-magician Peter Hudson (“Homoroborous”, “Sisyphus”) will create another of his astonishing interactive zoetropes, this one entitled “Tantalus” – the details of which remain firmly under wraps, true to Hudson’s tradition.

Still more Burning Man artists from previous years will return in 2008, including Taos, New Mexico’s Christian Ristow (“Cat’s Cradle”) who will be creating a giant hydraulically-actuated hand entitled “Hand of Man”. Laura Kimpton, Bob Hoffman, and Jeff Schomberg will return with the flaming sculptures of the “Celtic Forest”; “Shiva Vista”, the giant rhythmically sequenced fire stage by Reno artist Dave King will also be reprised. The Department of Spontaneous combustion will again roam the playa on their six hand-built pedal-powered fire machines called “Pswarm”, each shooting 40-foot plumes of flame into the air.

Several first-time grant recipients have also been awarded. Two grants for fire projects have been awarded to San Francisco-based False Profit Labs, who will construct an interactive fire sculpture called PyroCardium, a 15-foot tall helix with twenty computer-controlled flames that will respond to the human heartbeat when a stethoscope attached to the sculpture is placed against the viewer’s chest. False Profit Labs will also exhibit Hydrogen Economy, a 15-foot tall, clear hexagonal prism filled with floating hydrogen bubbles. Participants will wield flaming “dragon wands” to ignite explosions of hydrogen, oxygen, and propane.

Another first-time grant recipient is Welsh artist Dafaid Daf a Joe, whose sculpture, “Man Gwyn Man Draw”, will display an eerie regiment of sheep arrayed beside a swaying field of “wheat.” This piece will evoke the Welsh experience in the nineteenth century when thousands fled their native land and emigrated to the New World, in search of an imagined American Eden.

When David Best and the Temple crew announced that they would not be building a temple in 2008, a palpable murmur rippled across Burning Man lists and message boards everywhere, anticipating the void that would be left without this beloved spiritual center in Black Rock City. But artists Shrine and TukTuk (“Tasseograph”) have stepped up to lead an effort to construct a reimagined version of our city’s contemplative temple out beyond the Burning Man on the 12 o’clock promenade. Shrine and his team are renowned for creating spectacular meditative spaces, repurposing recycled and reclaimed materials in strikingly beautiful ways. Entitled “Basura Sagrada” (or “Sacred Trash”), this temple will be an interactive structure in more than one sense. It will enable participants to compose upon it their missives to the unknown, as has become traditional with our temples – but its very creation and construction will also invite interaction. For more information, visit www.basurasagrada.org.

Whether you’re an artist, or want to be one, The Burning Man School of Art – as it were – is accepting enrollment by all who wish to apply. The Burning Man community is a place that naturally encourages creative voices, and offers a cultural context in which the potential in every participant might flourish. New groups of prolific and talented Burning Man artists are constantly emerging, and it’s exciting to contemplate the impact their creative offerings will have on the world.

Learn more about creating artwork for the playa by visiting the art installations section of our website. To register an art installation for 2008, visit our forms site, or visit the ARTery at Burning Man prior to installing your piece.

This is Babylon, the 10-story steel tower that was built in four days at the far edge of Black Rock City. I have complicated feelings about this piece. On the face of it, it’s so un-Burning Man. It’s a union job, no DPW crew involved, and … it’s STEEL. True, there are lots of different materials used for art pieces, but this one seems a very radical departure.

One thing seems sure, though. It’s going to be a hell of a place to party. Ten stories, plenty of space to hang out, great views, and videos of the people inside broadcast outside on the side of the structure. Pretty damn amazing.

Let’s look at it as a new piece of furniture; give it a couple of days to see where it fits in.

The last of the hundreds and hundreds of spires that have sprung up in Black Rock City was put in the ground late in the afternoon yesterday. A lot of the people who’ve been digging and pounding and putting up shade and everything else took a little time out to celebrate finishing the task.

It was funny to see all the Mad Max buggies and buses steaming across the desert floor (btw, I am consciously avoiding the use of the word “playa” from here on out. I can’t bring myself to say it or write it anymore. It’s a fine word, and useful, in that you can describe yourself as being “on the playa” instead of, say, at the Ranch or in Gerlach or Reno. But there’s something about “the playa” that’s beginning to grate on me (and yes, the event hasn’t even begun yet). What is it? What’s happening? Am I losing the glow? I don’t think so, but still …)

So anyway, there we were, in the golden light of late afternoon (which is something you NEVER get tired of!), steaming to a spot between 3 and 6 over near the Ghetto (where the DPW folks live), some music happening, maybe a beer or two being opened, to watch the rebar get hammered into the ground to support the spire. There was lots of hollering and whooping as the sledge got passed around, and when the post finally went up, people started to dance around it and hammer pieces of “art” on it to decorate. So check it out when you’re over there; it stands for a lot of what’s happened here so far.

So without anymore la di da, here are some of the folks who took some time out for a little party. (And of course, when it was all over in an hour or so, a lot of them went back to work.)

More pics after the jump, so the page doesn’t take so long to load:

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