From the photos, one might imagine Burning Man is a dirty place. This dust does not feel dirty. Quite the opposite, it seems to draw the oils – and all other moisture – out of your hair and skin. I may come home with dreadlocks, as every time I try to brush my hair I find more tangles that are matting together.
The magical opening ceremony for Sacred Spaces started somewhere around 7:30. People gathered, drank coffee, milled about. Someone even vacuumed a bit. So did my mom for a bit – I think my dad took that picture.
I didn’t take any photos of the ceremony itself, as we were busy participating. We meditated and blessed the space, and walked the perimeter of our camp with sage. Peaceful, healing, powerful energy surrounded everyone. Beautiful.
This is one of the sails that decorates the main stage.
After filling ourselves with love and light, we set out to the playa for a bike tour, highlighting some of the art pieces that received funding from the festival.
Medusa. Kind of my hero.
Before we started, before the storm hit.
Things are getting dusty in the background here, next to a sculpture of a rattlesnake.
A little more clear near the squid. This piece has handles on the sides that participants can operate to move the tentacles.
Part of three pieces, all cast out of bronze. I cannot imagine how much they weigh.
For those of my dad’s Scout family who are reading, the above photo represents the gold thing. For those who aren’t, touching the gold thing is a sense of completion. I believe it comes from the gold thing in the rocks on the top of Squaw Peak. If you only climb halfway, you can’t touch the gold thing, therefore you did not go.
We learned more about this sculpture today, before the tour was cancelled due to white out conditions. She is called Our Evolution. I think. And at parts of the day she moves, and sometimes breaths.
The temple, in a growing storm.
We went inside together, we each wrote something on the walls, my mom and I cried a bit. Which isn’t a great idea when you’re wearing fake eyelashes in a dust storm.
Shortly after this photo, the entire playa was engulfed in dust. We attempted to keep up with our group as we rode headlong into the wind. One of the more surreal moments of my life, I pedaled forward, only guessing on the direction. I walked my bike a bit, and when forms began to appear out of the haze, my mother walked towards me. It is an image I will keep in my head from this journey. My mom coming back for me during the storm, even as she struggled herself.
We are mostly dusted off, fed, rested, and ready to go experience some more.
Thank you all for your comments, and for reading along. We are blessed to have you all in our lives.