Old Burn Memory
Now that I have finally been able to impart this nice story to the counterpart, I simply must post it for everyone to see.
My first burn, in 2004 was fantastic. I found "home" in a miserable and windy place in the middle of nowhere. I was single and I'd come to the playa with my father ("Want to go to burning man?" ... "Sure, what is it?") whose presence had been requested by his cousin Dave (who does the mocouch thing http://www.motorizedcouch.com/) and lives in Berkeley and is awesome.
Hey look, it's me and me Da on one of the couches:
I was afforded a lot of freedom by my relationship status and the lazier-faire attitude of my father...which is to say "total" freedom. I went out alone by myself almost constantly and had a great time of it. Every person and group I met was fantastic and I am still in touch with some of them from that first year, albeit not regularly enough.
I was idiotic enough to leave my camera battery charger at home so my camera's pics from that year are of the sunset on the first night and nothing more.
However, my papa was kind enough to let me take off with his camera for the evening before the burn. (Whence came the new userpic that you see.)
The only time that my father and I spent hanging out that year was the night of the burn. He had some of his magic-gear with him and we walked around fucking with people. It was delightful. My dad rocks. Some time after the burn, my dad said he was going to head back to camp and so I got to keep the camera once again. It was damn cold that night and I had oddly (read: stupidly) chosen to wear my sari as you can see here (much of our camp piled on the mocouch and headed for the burn.)
So my father and I parted ways and I wandered. I gravitated toward things like fire dancers for the double-purposed entertainment and heat. I then stumbled upon this:
The picture does no justice to this beacon of warmth and glow and *chuckle* conversation. This is part of, I believe, a 1 to 2.7 billion scale model (not sure how, but I memorized that upon hearing it) of the solar system; a fabulous art project that spanned the playa that year. The "SUN" was made out of some old cast-iron stove. At least, that's what this one guy told me. I was standing there for a good hour in total and at some point this guy came up and we chatted for quite a while. He said he knew the guy that made the installation. (Thank you, whomever you are for saving a girl from the cold...actually, I'm completely certain that we're connected now.)
Conversation reconstruction:
Yadda yadda yadda, my first burn...welcome home...blah blah blah.
Where are you from?
San Luis Obispo!
Really? I am too. Fancy meeting you here
Actually, I'm part of a theme camp that contains a bunch of SLO people.
Really? How cool.
Yeah, it's called Fandango.
*Ding* Important moment wherein I first heard of Fandango. *Un-ding*
We're having a potluck tomorrow afternoon. You should come by.
We're leaving tomorrow, but I'll try to make it.
Sadly, I did not make it. I was exhausted on every level the next day and it was all I could muster to take down my tents and pack my car. (I even submitted to the wear and tear and stayed at my mom's place mid-slo-trip and sobbed like a child, "How the fuck am I going to go back to work tomorrow?" Staying there may have been a bad choice, but that's a different story.)
Literally years later, I'm a Lunarvillian. I've become part of Lunarville, a Fandango satellite, and my social life explodes as I meet tons of exquisite Fandangan folk. I'm sharing stories with Neil and, while talking about the cold, I suddenly remember hanging out at the sun on the night of my first burn.
J: Hey wait...wow, there was some guy there that told me about Fandango!
N: What did he look like?
J: Not sure, it was quite dark. He was a big guy. He had cool hair, I think it was blue. I think he was wearing a kilt.
N: Was it a dress?
J: Might have been. I think it was a kilt, though.
N: Are you sure it wasn't a dress? Mini skirt?
J: Hmm, might have been?
N: What was his name?
J: I don't know, but I think it was just one syllable.
N: It was Rob.
J: Rob who is your future roommate?
N: Yes.
J: Wow.
The kicker (yes, another) is that I recall telling him about some really great people that I had met and lost earlier in the week. He told me not to worry and that on the playa you always end up getting surprised by meeting up with those same folk years later. Ha!
Recently, I happened to see Rob and recounted the story for him. He too, was pleased. It has now come heart-warmingly full circle on a number of levels. It makes me crazy-happy that such great people have accepted, nay, consumed me into their clan. <3
Aaaaaannnd cupcakes to kill the post.
My first burn, in 2004 was fantastic. I found "home" in a miserable and windy place in the middle of nowhere. I was single and I'd come to the playa with my father ("Want to go to burning man?" ... "Sure, what is it?") whose presence had been requested by his cousin Dave (who does the mocouch thing http://www.motorizedcouch.com/) and lives in Berkeley and is awesome.
Hey look, it's me and me Da on one of the couches:
I was afforded a lot of freedom by my relationship status and the lazier-faire attitude of my father...which is to say "total" freedom. I went out alone by myself almost constantly and had a great time of it. Every person and group I met was fantastic and I am still in touch with some of them from that first year, albeit not regularly enough.
I was idiotic enough to leave my camera battery charger at home so my camera's pics from that year are of the sunset on the first night and nothing more.
However, my papa was kind enough to let me take off with his camera for the evening before the burn. (Whence came the new userpic that you see.)
The only time that my father and I spent hanging out that year was the night of the burn. He had some of his magic-gear with him and we walked around fucking with people. It was delightful. My dad rocks. Some time after the burn, my dad said he was going to head back to camp and so I got to keep the camera once again. It was damn cold that night and I had oddly (read: stupidly) chosen to wear my sari as you can see here (much of our camp piled on the mocouch and headed for the burn.)
So my father and I parted ways and I wandered. I gravitated toward things like fire dancers for the double-purposed entertainment and heat. I then stumbled upon this:
The picture does no justice to this beacon of warmth and glow and *chuckle* conversation. This is part of, I believe, a 1 to 2.7 billion scale model (not sure how, but I memorized that upon hearing it) of the solar system; a fabulous art project that spanned the playa that year. The "SUN" was made out of some old cast-iron stove. At least, that's what this one guy told me. I was standing there for a good hour in total and at some point this guy came up and we chatted for quite a while. He said he knew the guy that made the installation. (Thank you, whomever you are for saving a girl from the cold...actually, I'm completely certain that we're connected now.)
Conversation reconstruction:
Yadda yadda yadda, my first burn...welcome home...blah blah blah.
Where are you from?
San Luis Obispo!
Really? I am too. Fancy meeting you here
Actually, I'm part of a theme camp that contains a bunch of SLO people.
Really? How cool.
Yeah, it's called Fandango.
*Ding* Important moment wherein I first heard of Fandango. *Un-ding*
We're having a potluck tomorrow afternoon. You should come by.
We're leaving tomorrow, but I'll try to make it.
Sadly, I did not make it. I was exhausted on every level the next day and it was all I could muster to take down my tents and pack my car. (I even submitted to the wear and tear and stayed at my mom's place mid-slo-trip and sobbed like a child, "How the fuck am I going to go back to work tomorrow?" Staying there may have been a bad choice, but that's a different story.)
Literally years later, I'm a Lunarvillian. I've become part of Lunarville, a Fandango satellite, and my social life explodes as I meet tons of exquisite Fandangan folk. I'm sharing stories with Neil and, while talking about the cold, I suddenly remember hanging out at the sun on the night of my first burn.
J: Hey wait...wow, there was some guy there that told me about Fandango!
N: What did he look like?
J: Not sure, it was quite dark. He was a big guy. He had cool hair, I think it was blue. I think he was wearing a kilt.
N: Was it a dress?
J: Might have been. I think it was a kilt, though.
N: Are you sure it wasn't a dress? Mini skirt?
J: Hmm, might have been?
N: What was his name?
J: I don't know, but I think it was just one syllable.
N: It was Rob.
J: Rob who is your future roommate?
N: Yes.
J: Wow.
The kicker (yes, another) is that I recall telling him about some really great people that I had met and lost earlier in the week. He told me not to worry and that on the playa you always end up getting surprised by meeting up with those same folk years later. Ha!
Recently, I happened to see Rob and recounted the story for him. He too, was pleased. It has now come heart-warmingly full circle on a number of levels. It makes me crazy-happy that such great people have accepted, nay, consumed me into their clan. <3
Aaaaaannnd cupcakes to kill the post.