There’s just so much of it, which is why I sometimes avoid talking about it when the subject of my book comes up.
People go off about the expense, the dust, the heat, the rain, influencers, the BMORG, porta potties, etc., etc., etc. It’s almost as if they don’t realize there’s a solution to all that: Don’t go.
I didn’t experience Burning Man until it was thoroughly over. It’s been over since the year of the ticket fiasco, since the founding of Black Rock City, since permits were obtained, since the golden spike, since DPW, since it was only guns and cars, since it was on Baker Beach, since before Baker Beach, since Larry’s garage, since it was a pile of wood, since it was only a concept, since it was an electrical impulse traveling a neurotransmitter super highway of the since wheneverthefuckshutupalready.
Most large-scale events come with sizeable pros and cons. Most financial organizations are deeply imperfect. You don’t need my book to tell you that Burning Man sucks, that it’s life-changing, that’s bullshit, that it’s legit, that it’s worth it, that it’s wasteful, that it’s killing the environment, that it’s saving souls. Whatever your position, there’s ample evidence to support it.
It’s all true. And it’s all a lie. That’s life, my dudes.
That’s parenting. That’s education. That’s politics. That’s every single thing. (Well, not the U.S. healthcare system which, like our prison system, is a for-profit industry = ENTIRELY fucked).
But I’ll tell you this:
Similar to my narrator Jones, I went to Burning Man 100% alone. I’d never pitched a tent. I’d never been away from my kids. The mom guilt nearly killed me.
Unlike Jones, I had 18mos-old babies at home. I was still lactating. No matter how much I pumped and dumped, my tits were so engorged they felt like actual boulders. It was so astonishing that my woman-body could become rock hard, I let a lot of random people touch my breasts. I’m talking ten times harder than the hardest cock. How could I have been so uninformed? Also, it was agony. Absolutely excruciating.
Similar to my narrator, my husband and I agreed on a hall pass. Unlike my narrator, my desire was significantly upstaged by the hows, whats, and whys of the place. I was too busy trying to memorize every detail to focus on eye candy. Similar to my narrator, and many first-timers, I was perfectly gobsmacked by what I saw.
I’ve been to twelve burns, including Mud Burn. Does it suck? YES. Is it for the faint of heart? ABSOLUTELY NOT. Is it filled with the most creative people I’ve ever met? WITHOUT A DOUBT, YES. Will I go back? Maybe. Probably. Depends on if the Black Rock Public Libarary goes back. If they do, I have a book donation for them!
I lost that hat. Damn.
