Working It Out


Worked a lot today, but also got some time off this evening.

I went out and saw some Burning Man.

But first I went to the Playa Bike Repair.

Thank God.

Otherwise I would not have gotten anywhere near as far out as I did tonight.

I would have moped around the 9 o’clock keyhole and missed the amazing moments I got to have this evening.

The best, again, the Xylophage by the Flaming Lotus Girls.

No pictures for you tonight of the piece, however, my camera was running out of juice–batteries are re-charging as I type, so more photos tomorrow.

This was a good thing.

I had no problem putting down the camera.

Unlike a lot of folks I witnessed out there walking through the playa around the art and not engaging with it, just taking photographs of it.

I suppose I could have some judgements about it, but I am too blissed out, once again to care.

In fact, I have thought a few times tonight that I should just ditch doing the blog and go to bed.

Tomorrow’s start time is 8 a.m. and it is 12:45 a.m. and I have only a few words, lots of images, and loads of dust to wash off myself before I crawl into bed.  I probably won’t make it to bed until 2 a.m.

Not the worst thing in the world, I can take a nap tomorrow.

And I promise myself right now that I will.

I am going to stay back tomorrow night so that mom and dad may go out and celebrate a friend’s wedding anniversary.  They also are going to a party, or some other engagement, I don’t recall, sometimes the details of the day get fuzzy when I am warm and fuzzy.

I not only sat in the Xylophage Sequoia stump under the heat, surrounded by the wood smell and the little flaming mushrooms climbing the walls, I also got some body work done while I was sitting there.

There was a sweet older man across the way from me, also sitting and enjoying the warmth, not commenting on “oh my god, it’s hot, wow, it’s like a sauna in here,” ad nauseum, or taking photographs either.

He just sat and watched and smiled across the way at me.

We both sat in our own mutual reverie for about a half hour, then when a break in the crowd happened and there was no one shooting pictures, or video, or waving their Go-Pro around, he made his way over to my side and asked to sit next to me on a stump.

I smiled, I had just gotten a hug from a Bunny from Montreal, how could I refuse?

I moved aside my crinoline and gestured to him.

We introduced ourselves to each other, Ron from Tahoe, doing healing work at HBGBS and Carmen, extreme nanny and reverent worshipper of heat.

“I have to admit I have been waiting to see how long you were going to sit here, I was holding out on leaving until you did.”  He said as he settled down on his perch.

I laughed and we started having a conversation.

The nature of humanity, the proliferation of the camera phone, the posing, the social media, that astounding amount of folks coming through and looking but not necessarily engaging in the art.

He asked me about my tattoos.

I asked him about his Burn.

“May I touch your tattoo?” He asked quietly.

I got no creepy old man vibe off him, just a genuine curiosity to look at the art.

I offered him my arm and the next thing you know he is massaging my hand.  Then, a gentleman walks in through the door next to me, strokes my shoulder and says, “here, let me do this side,” and he tenderly takes my other arm.

I am suddenly engulfed in warmth, love, this sweet boy from Comfort and Joy and this kind soul from HBGB and my water bottle.

If there had been a pillow I would have fallen asleep like a little kitty cat.

Speaking of which.

You know you have a really great mama boss when she says, “you need to see this art piece, I have time before my next meeting, we’re going to head out to Man Base.”

We drive over after lunch and go to the Alien Vending Machine.

It is a little grey and silver box with tokens that you plug into the slot, turn knobs, and small envelopes with instructions printed on the back.

I giggled, picked up the tokens, popped them into the vending machine and pulled the lever.  My little brown envelope dropped out and I fished it through the slot.

“Dear Earthling, we are observing you, please be advised, we are requesting that you be noisy.”

There was a little business card with a lion on the front.

“Please roar until you get the response noted on the back, and remember, we are watching.”

I walked away and roared.

I laughed out loud.

When I got back to the Soccer Mom (the white mini-van) the mama asked me what I got and I roared at her, she giggled and meowed out the window at me.

You want to know what the reverse side of the card said?

“Continue roaring until you meet a person who meows at you, you will have found your person.”


It was the perfect little sobriquet in my day.

How awesome is it that I have a boss that says, let’s take a moment and see some art.

I am remembering a family I once nannied for and how they had no art on their walls and no plants and no fun, frankly, and thanked the heavens above for such an awesome boss.

A boss I later burst into tears in front of at the Commissary.

I was trying to figure it out, and had not even realized it when I spoke with her about replacing my Iphone in Reno.

It broke out here.

I suspect it was on its way out, but the playa took it and I need a new phone.

How am I going to move and arrange and fix and contact and do when I get to San Francisco?

Or Oakland.

Or wherever am I going to land.

She totally took a different tack, said, please don’t worry about the phone and I already planned on having you stay over in Reno with us and further at the house in Cole Valley, you’ll sleep in the guest room and do laundry and take a really long bath and then do the next thing.

Look at that.

The Universe stepping in again and taking care of me.

And with that I am out.

I have an early start time and I need to get some sleep.

The Mother Ship has landed and there’s a big party to go to tomorrow.

Man Base

Man Base

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