Posts Tagged ‘dust’

From The Playa

September 8, 2015

To La Playa.

I’m not sure how it happened.

We were rolling down the street looking for a parking place.

He turned the wheel of the RV left and we were on La playa.

We had just left the playa.

The playa at Burning Man.

It’s been a long, strange, dreamy, love trip.

I’m not sure how this blog is going to go, I’m not sure what rabbit hole I fell down into.

But fell I did.

It’s been a while since I have posted a blog, or written a blog, and I have to say, I have missed it, and I have not missed it.  I have missed the daily practice of sitting and organizing my thoughts and sorting through my feelings, but I feel a feeling that I am loath to say.

I don’t want to share with you.

I don’t want to tell.

I want the secret space between here and there to be sacred.

“I woke up and there was a Carmen shaped hole next to me,” he said to me last night after coming back into the RV.

It was cold up at Donner Pass and we snuggled together in the twilight that seeped through the black out curtains on the vehicle–it was still covered in shade and playa dust guards, there was still plenty of dust left from our journey back into the world.

But.

For a moment here.

A moment there.

There was no other person.

No other place.

I was completely present with one person.

We had met Friday night.

It was a cold night.

He was dressed up like Santa Claus.

I had just left the Cafe at Center Camp.

It was a cold night and it had been a dusty day, horrid with dust, knock down scary with dust, white out dust, screaming dust tornadoes, knocked over shade structures, throttled with dust, broken with dust.

I had been pretty wiped out by it, especially after my bicycle broke down on the way back from spending time with friends at AV, a village a lot of my friends were camped out at, and was a bit demoralized by the time I had gotten back to camp.

It was far later in the day than I had anticipated getting back and I missed saying good-bye to Junebug and her mama, who had, smartly, avoided the imminent dust storm and hopped off playa before it hit.

When my bike broke I gamely walked it for a while and thought, no biggie, I’ll just take my time and walk it back to camp, but I was on the other side of the world and by the time I had gotten to First Camp I was done with it.

I popped my head into a few places looking for folks I knew, but no one was to be found, all hunkered down with the storm blowing about.

I made it to Media Mecca and stashed my bicycle in the back.

I went in and gratefully found friends.

One of whom, thank you lovely Minx, gave me and my broke bike a ride back to camp on a dusty golf cart.

I arrived dusty, late, and a bit broken from the weather.

Junie was gone, Mama Grace was gone, the camp was rocking with the dust storm and I was exhausted.

I hugged Papa Tom and crawled into the trailer where my fairy godmother and father were graciously allowing me to stay.

I was cold and dusty and tired and wiped the fuck out.

I pulled off my boots and gingerly started wiping the layers of dust off my face.

It took some time.

I ate an apple.

It was dusty.

Everything was dusty.

I am still dusty now, as I write, I can imagine and feel it, and there is no describing it, it does not matter how many pictures you see online or how many descriptions of it there are to read about, until you have lived through a white out dust storm at Black Rock City, you will just never quite comprehend it.

I’m sorting my feelings and thoughts as I write and I know this blog is a bit disjointed.

I am a bit disjointed.

Although I am showered and I have done all my laundry–three loads washed and dried and folded.  I have gone to the grocery store up the street and bought a few provisions for my house.  I have called and checked in with some folks and taken messages from some other folks.

But my thoughts are often with him.

Mister Claus.

The twinkle in his green eyes and the way he held me close.

I get a head of myself.

Even with no expectations of further engagement, though I am sure there will be, I have a jumble of thoughts and feelings and the price for having been so open and honest and available to someone, the effects have yet not been sorted and this sad, distracted little blog is just a way to sort through the photographs of him in my head.

Four days of spending time with a person is a long time.

Four days at Burning Man is forever.

Was it four days?

Three and a half.

Starting when we met Friday evening to this afternoon, Monday, we spent every moment together.

Exceptions were few, a bathroom break, I took a shower–in the most janky shower contraption ever–while he took a nap, a bicycle ride across playa on Sunday to break down my camp while he broke down his, with these exceptions, we spent every moment together.

From the moment he kissed me at the burn barrel in the six o’clock keyhole outside of Center Camp Cafe.

Until the moment he kissed me goodbye in front of my house this afternoon around 1:30/2pm.

We spent the moments together.

We spent every day together.

We spent every night together.

We rode our bicycles out to deep playa and back.

We went to the Baa’s art car and watched the burn from the top of a gigantic sheep.

We snuggled at Dream Land.

We told each other endless stories under the stars, under the roof of the RV, entwined around each other for body heat and comfort–it was the coldest event I have been to in years.

We walked through the Temple together, the cafe together, around First Camp together.

I showed him the secret spots and introduced him to friends.

We told each other tall tales and laughed and giggled, and ugh, I even snorted, he got me laughing so hard a few times.

It was a grand old-time.

And I am not sure how to reconcile it all and I don’t know that I want to share all the details either.

I just don’t.

Some things belong in my heart.

“Keep yourself open,” he said to me today.

He said so many things to me.

He held up a mirror and I saw myself, sans makeup–when was the last time I spent so much time with someone and did not wear makeup?  I had no time to put on a face, he saw it all, every dusty bit of it, and accepted it, embraced it, pleasured it, hugged it, kissed it.

There was nothing I hid or tried to hide.

I was open.

And perhaps that is what Burning Man does.

Or.

Perhaps it is what I allow to happen in my life when I say, fuck the dust, go out dancing, play with your friends, ride your bike into the wind and when a stranger throws a log onto the fire and asks if you have been a “good girl this year,” I can smile and say.

Yes.

I was a very good girl.

And.

I was given the most amazing gift.

A gift that has no strings, no direction, no expectations attached.

Just the sweetness of being in a man’s arms who held me tighter than I have been held in some time and fed me with words and desire and made me see exactly how far I have come.

I have come so far.

I don’t know when I work tomorrow.

I don’t know what I have to do for school–Friday is the first day of the school year, the official start.

I don’t know if I will see Santa again.

But I believe.

I have faith.

I believe in magic.

I have lived to tell the tale.

Even if I have kept some of the details to myself.

I hold them all in the crucible of my heart.

And will move forward with them there, gently held in that space between the bowl of the dusty playa sky and the warm omnipotence of the ocean blue where he left me on the doorstep to a new way of being.

Seen.

Accepted.

Embraced.

Known.

And kissed.

Oh.

So.

Very well.

Kissed.

The Poppins

July 11, 2015

Has placed her order.

And I am just about done with my Burning Man prep.

See lady, it wasn’t so bad.

Of course, its vastly helpful that the folks I’m camping with are pretty much providing my shelter, that’s a load off my mind and so much wrangling that does not have to be done.

Over the moon grateful.

Although I did have a friend offer me full access to his camping gear, I was loath to take him up on the offer.

Unless a person has been to Burning Man and seen what the wreckage of the playa can do to their things, I would not want to take someone’s nice camping gear and get it all dusty.

That being said, I would love to do some more camping outside of just Burning Man.

Yosemite.

The Grand Canyon.

Bryce Canyon.

Some Avenue of the Giants.

Joshua Tree.

There are lots of places.

Crater Lake.

I can go on.

For the now.

For the present.

For the just for today.

I am wrapping up some Burning Man supplies and making sure they get here before I leave for that great dust bowl in the Black Rock Desert.

It wasn’t much, but I got what I needed.

Zip ties.

They are magical and everyone should have a plethora.

A new purple flag pennant to replace my old one, it’s pretty beat up, on my bicycle.

And also for my bicycle some more lights.

I have wheel lights on the front wheel, but I also got some solar-powered lights I’m going to string up along the frame for night-time illumination and riding.  I don’t particularly care about seeing with my lights, so much as being seen.

And yes, one pair of tights.

Just because I like the tights.

My Burning Man uniform routinely consists of tights, boots, tank tops, and boy shorts with a holster, a bunch of fabric flowers in my hair, bright makeup, and a parasol.

And last, but certainly not least, that’s right, I made sure to order a new parasol.

Since I left the one I bought in Atlanta on the plane and well, haha, the one I ordered online will match my bicycle and well, that’s how I like to roll.

Glittery, purple, flowered, bedazzled up.

Sparkly.

The Poppins is ready to ride.

And in other news.

Yes.

It’s Friday.

I thought I had some plans this evening with a friend and I haven’t heard back from him, so I might be staying in for the evening, but what a lovely evening it is.

We had talked about doing a bonfire in my back yard again and it is most definitely the night for it, the air was lovely riding home through the park and though not warm, it’s not chilly out there like it normally is this time of year–you know, July.

In fact, when the sun came out today and lit up the Mission like diamonds I was happily surprised by the warmth and the blue skies.

July being notorious in San Francisco for cool, foggy, grey weather.

Speaking of bicycle.

Man, she is riding like a dream.

I don’t think I realized how desperate she was for some love and attention.

I have a tendency to do that with my things, beat on them, ride them hard, not take care of them as well as I should.

But.

I gradually get better and I recognize that proper care of my property ends up being better for me and I get to keep having nice things.

I ran into my friend who helped me through the scooter fiasco and the getting it recycled at Scooter Centre et al, and he asked when I was going back to buy the Buddy Italia in Avocado with racing stripes.

I shrugged.

I don’t know.

I am on the fence to tell you the truth.

The ride home through the park is so glorious, it’s luscious when the air is like it is tonight and I felt that I would miss the riding if I had the scooter.

Plus, I don’t want to outlay any money right now.

I am going to be going down to part-time in September with work and yes, I did get a lot of money awarded me to go to graduate school–but that’s just going to be paying for tuition, not so much living expenses.

I am currently weighing whether or not I should pre-pay a bunch of rent so I don’t have to be concerned with it or if I should sock it all away in my savings account and collect some interest on it before paying a lot of rent upfront.

Neither here nor there, I suppose.

I’m currently not sitting on that money.

The awards letter still has not arrived.

And.

The reader I e-mailed about to start getting my materials together is not in stock at the store I e-mailed.

I have vowed that over the weekend I will sit down, look at all my files and information regarding the syllabus and make a list of what I need to get and where to get it.

I want to have that taken care of by the end of the weekend.

Not so I can start the reading by Sunday, but just to have the ball rolling along.

It’s much easier to pick up momentum if I’m already into action.

And that’s it.

That’s all that’s on my plate.

Well.

There’s other stuff there.

But I won’t be writing about it right now.

I’m waiting to see what develops and to continue to keep the focus on what’s right in front of me.

Like.

Taking a shower.

That’s the next indicated action tonight.

Despite my desire to know more.

That’s all I need to know.

That and I have a band new lavender, pagoda style parasol.

(And some zip ties)

Coming to my mail box soon.

Mary Fucking Poppins needs her parasol.

I mean.

Really.

It wouldn’t be Burning Man.

For me.

Without one.

Let The Shopping Begin!

April 10, 2015

Or the obsessing.

Depends on how you care to phrase that.

I officially bought my first Burning Man thingamajig this past Monday.

VERY quietly.

I don’t want to draw too much attention to it, but it was fabulous and it’s from Community Thrift on Valencia Street and it was the first Monday of the month, so said item was 1/2 off.

I got a vintage 60s aquamarine sequined dress with a marabou off the shoulder collar for $4.62.

Not bad.

Pair that sucker with a pair of boots, some fishnets, and some electric blue eyeliner–the dress is entirely aquamarine sequins, I’m going to shimmer in the high desert air, yes I am, and stick a flower in my hair (or five, it’s Burning Man after all, I wear flowers in my hair almost every day, I should up the ante for the actual event) and I will be set to sashay my way across the playa.

Or ride my chopper.

I may wear the dress to a party I was invited to recently, but I am not sure.

I actually want to have it slightly altered, the fit is not the greatest, it has a bit of a sack feel to it, but the fabric was so fun and it was so cheap to buy, that I had to have it.

The other thing I got today, specifically for Burning Man.

Baby wipes.

Yeah.

I know.

Not exactly glamorous, like my sequined dress, but necessary, and the damn things are expensive, at least the ones I like to use, so when I saw them on sale at the store, I grabbed a pack.

I parse out my Burning Man buys so that it does not feel like I just exploded my entire life savings on going to that thing in the desert where they burn the man, hey.

I got home from work and shopping and doing the deal and unloaded my messenger bag with my groceries and toiletries and thought, I should stash these, and here it is, I now have a Burning Man shelf in my little utility cupboard in my kitchenette (I also have a list of supplies that I wrote out two weeks ago).

And as I was putting away the wipes I thought, here it is, was my official first Burning Man purchase for the upcoming event.

But, nope, I realized, when I looked in my closet, there was the dress.

“Oh, I didn’t think this would last long when I saw it come in the store, and I was right,” the clerk said at Community Thrift when he rang me up.  “I do hope you have a special place for it.”

I smiled.

“Burning Man.”

“Oh, are you going?  First time?” He asked, then continued, “I’ve never been, but I hear its fabulous.”

“This will make number nine,” I said, grinning, I couldn’t help it.

It really is rather amazing when I think about it, I can’t get my shit together to go camping at Yosemite–I’ve never been–nor to the Grand Canyon, but I have gotten out to Burning Man eight times now and am about to embark on my 9th.

Not that it’s around the corner.

“When is it?” The clerk asked, folding the dress up for me, “next month?”

“Oh no,” I replied, “not until the end of August, but when you see something that so obviously says Burning Man, one is compelled to buy it.”

With that said, I’m waffling on pulling the trigger on a pair of boots.

I always do this.

The boots thing for me is a constant negotiation in my brain, whether I splurge and buy something fancy, or I cheap out, as the dust is going to destroy them anyhow and I just get a pair to beat up and toss.

I wish there was a boot fairy.

I have this dilemma every year and I am about over it.

I also was thinking that if I got the right pair I could wear them over to the NIMBY event a week from Saturday.

I am definitely contemplating going, just got to get the logistics worked out and I suppose, buy a ticket.

I get paid tomorrow, so that should not be an issue.

Plus, I made sure to put some money in my spending plan for entertainment purposes, and I can afford the ticket.

By the time I purchase it I think the price will have gone up to $30.

Not horrible, but the last time I spent $30 on tickets, the Basement Jaxx at Public Works, I didn’t go.

I don’t want to do that again.

Decisions.

Decisions.

Luxury problems all.

I actually have a pair of boots that I am probably going to sacrifice to that great dust god in the sky anyway.

I bought them for when I took the motorcycle training course to get my license for my scooter.

I have worn them but a few times and they just sort of hang out in my closet taking up space.

I don’t really have to buy boots.

It’s just my brain looking to latch onto something, anything, to obsess about.

Ah, brain, I hear you, there’s no problems, so let’s manufacture some.

Work is good.

Life is good.

My hair is fabulous.

I just got out of the shower and have laundry in the wash.

I have a new laptop.

My rent is paid.

I’ll be paying my phone bill here in a minute.

I’m going to graduate school.

I’m going to Worlds in Atlanta in July.

I’m going to Chula Vista to see my grandmother in May.

I’m going to Burning Man.

Yeah.

Not really any problems in my life at all.

Bird song at twilight as I rode home, the dusk purple and gray, soft, the twitter of robins flying through the bracken, the cool rush of air over my body as I round the corner near the falls, the echo of the water crashing across the road and bouncing off the Eucalyptus trees, the smell of spring, the soft lushness of roses blooming wild in a small bowl of a valley across from Spreckels Lake, the last of the sunset blushing the sky as turn right and fly home the last few blocks from Chain of Lakes onto Lincoln Ave then to 46th Avenue.

Beauty everywhere.

All for free.

Nothing to obsess over.

Just to observe.

And absorb.

Into the wilds of my heart.

Who needs boots when there is such beauty?

Well.

Maybe, I can have both?

Ha.

Of Course You Are!

March 20, 2015

This was the response to a text I sent out this morning.

This morning delirious with joy.

“I’m going to Burning Man.”

Was the text I sent out.

Like, I’m really going to go to Burning Man.

It’s happening.

Funny thing too.

I had done a lot of writing about it this morning and this constant let go, I don’t know how to let go, idea of going this year and how it’s going to play out and what’s going to happen and the how of it.

Never the why.

There has never been a why.

I don’t think I have ever asked myself why I want to go to Burning Man, I just do, there’s not a reason for the high heat, high desert, high altitude, the dust, the odd ball weather, flash flood last year anyone?

The long hours driving there and back, the preparation, the planning, the frankly, obsessing, what boots, how many pairs of socks is the perfect amount, should I color my hair pink this year or purple or blue or just go full on blonde?

The wrangling of time off, when I have worked for other families not in the Burning Man community.

“We actually need you to work that week after,” the mom said, “do you think they could change the date on the event?”

This was a real question.

Sure, let me get back to you on that.

Why would anyone in their right mind go?

“You don’t drink, do drugs, eat sugar, or flour?”  He asked as I ticked off the list, “why the hell do you come out here?”

“I like salt and caffeine,” I replied and cackled like a mad woman.

And there’s that.

I am crazy.

Crazy like a fox and crazy in love with the Universe who listens and hears my desires and peers into my heart and goes, “ah, there, that’s what she needs, let’s see what I can do about that.”

And boom.

I’m off to the burn.

I was writing, like I do every morning, before heading out to work and being realistic about what I wanted to ask off for with the family, I’ll be sitting down with them tomorrow to discuss moving forward as it marks my 6 months with them, and I was thinking, do I bring up Burning Man or not?

I want to go.

Can I afford to go?

How do I get there?

What’s the plan, Stan?

I realized that if it was going to happen it would happen naturally and organically, without me mucking about in it, without me manipulating it, without me being dishonest.

I could tell the family that since my school dates coincide so nicely with the event that I am basically going to ask off for it and throw caution to the wind.

That the going would happen if it was supposed to happen.

I did say a prayer, write it really, for God to show me the way forward with it.

I don’t usually go back and re-read what I write in my morning pages, the point is not to write a readable book, it’s to get the gunk out of my head and clear space for my day (a day I must say that I needed to be clear and present for, it was hella busy at work), a way for me to be balanced and have perspective around the day before heading out into the world.

But.

I really did write a lot about Burning Man this morning, ending my morning pages with this: “God, please show me if you want me to go.  I want All The Things.  I do want to go.”

I’m not going to bullshit.

I want all the things this year.

I mean, it’s nice to have someone advocate that for me and my friend, who’s sticker I bear so proudly on my laptop, certainly pointed out to me years ago that I deserve them.

But sometimes it takes me a minute, or a month, or a year, to get that I really want all the things.

I do, I do.

I want to go to Burning Man and I want to go to Hawaii and I want to go to Atlanta and I want to go to graduate school, and hey, look at that, things are happening.

I want a boyfriend who wants to go to Burning Man with me.

Not a boyfriend who makes fun of me going to Burning Man.

I didn’t make fun of your motorcycle club man, don’t make fun of my dust bowl, ok?

I wanted a clear sign.

And well, ha.

I got one.

I was riding my bicycle up Lincoln Avenue, that part where the hill is the hilliest and there’s still blocks to go, but if I am in a good groove, it’s not so bad.

Ping.

I heard the messenger app on my phone go off.

I had a feeling.

But I mean, I didn’t know.

I thought briefly for a moment who it could be and then forgot and got on with my bicycle commute.

I have to pay attention to traffic and though the commute is rote for me at this point, I am still riding a bicycle in traffic and I’m in it for about 35 minutes in the morning and another 35 in the evening.

That’s over an hour, more usually as I don’t always go straight home after work.

And in that hour a lot can happen if I’m not paying attention.

I got to work, the ride was smooth, lovely, light wind, high clear, blue, blue, blue skies, I smiled at the world.

I was ten minutes early and I did my long draught of water, followed by some stretches and then I sat down on a bench across the street from work and checked the message.

It was a message from God.

Not to be dramatic or anything.

It was a message from my original playa mom.

The OPM.

Or in other words.

The Action Girl.

Oh damn.

Oh yes.

I read the message and my smile got so big and I think I made some unintelligible yelping happy noise and bounced on the bench in glee.

The family is planning on going and they wanted me to come and help out and the getting of there and back will be taken care of and the getting of a ticket will be taken care of and I can camp with them.

OMG.

Yes!

I’m going to Burning Man.

I didn’t even really think, I just replied, yes!

And yes again and yes some more.

Happy, happy.

Joy, joy.

Not sure the specifics yet, but I don’t really need to be.

I can sit down with mom and dad and the Junebug and see what needs to happen and when and how.

But never why.

I don’t need to know why I need to go.

I am just going.

I’M GOING TO BURNING MAN!

Of course you are.

Bahahahahahaha.

Thanks for the sign God.

xo

Mary Fucking Poppins.

 

 

 

 

Home*

August 17, 2014

And here I am at Burning Man.

Good to be home.

Good to have been given my first and quite spectacular gift without expecting it, a bracelet from Naked Bob–black rubber like those Lance Armstrong Live Strong bracelets, with the slogan on it: “Naked Bob’s Gun Camp For Kids Burning Man 2014.”

I am deeply honored.

My favorite part of the bracelet is that there is another little message in black embossed on the inside of the bracelet which says, “fuck you.”

God, I love you Burning Man.

I also don’t know how much of this blog I am going to be able to write.

I don’t have a hook up yet to charge, but I do have access to the internet and that is awesome.  It’s a great privilege and one I do not take lightly.

I will do my best to post every day and put up photos when I can.

I just shot photographs with my Iphone 5c today, nothing with my Fuji.

That will be rectified tomorrow.

For now, it is just really nice to be here.

I have gotten my trailer set up and it’s beginning to feel a lot like Burning Man.

The stars are so deep and full and rich, I have the door to the trailer open and it is just like looking into the heart of the Universe.

It’s one of my favorite things about coming out so early, there’s so little light pollution, it is as if I could just reach up and touch them.

The whole world makes me feel like I can just reach out and touch it.

The mountains, the flat of the playa, the overturned bowl of Delphic blue, the deep high sky that seems only to be over this particular place and time and it delights me that I get to be a part of it once again.

Granted there are always challenges.

I seem to have caught a cold from one of my charges–all three of them and two of the mom’s this past week have had a cold–and my nose is tender, which does not bode well for being out in the dust.

Fortunately, it is early and there’s not a lot of traffic to kick up the dust and the rain seems to have passed and its great weather.

It was hot when we landed, but not unbearably hot and at one point when we were getting water in Gerlach I just wanted to sit out in the sun and soak it all into my bones to carry back with me when I go back to that socked in fog city, San Francisco.

It’s going to be a long haul, but I am happy to have gotten here and to have my things arranged and ready to go for my first day as playa nanny.

I have my laminate.

I’ll get a radio most likely as well.

I got my utility belt out and it’s loaded with hand salve and lip balm and my Sigg water bottle just hooks right onto the belt.  I also have my goggles and bandana and sunblock ready for tomorrow.

And all my finery.

“I feel like I stand out like a sore thumb,” a new friend confided in me at the Commissary as we stood out in a sea of dusty black.

“Don’t worry,” I said and patted her arm, “I will be doing it up in style tomorrow, I feel really unredressed, frankly, being here in my jeans and tennis shoes.”

I had not had the chance to change-up my travel outfit into my playa clothes as the dropping of the family’s trailer had been derailed and was late getting set up.

We all had dinner in our “street clothes.”

And then after dinner I had visitors drop by camp.

I got to see friends and hang out in the back of a truck bed out underneath the twilight sky, dusky velvet with violet love and indigo sparkled with pinks and mauve.

My friends were so beautiful it hurt my heart a little to look at them.

That might be perhaps what I appreciate the most about Burning Man–it breaks my heart open again and again and forces me to let more love into my being.

“The wind is blowing in my eyes, that’s why I am tearing up,” I shared with them, and though true, it was also not true, they were so rich and stunning and lovely to look upon it brought tears to my eyes.

To be blessed to be in the presence of such luminous beauty is an honor.

I love my life.

I love my friends.

I can’t wait to see the rest of them as they trickle in.

*This is where my computer decided to punk out on me and said no more blog lady pants go to bed*

And now it’s tomorrow.

Or today.

Or my first day on playa, true, my first morning.

I slept well, it took a moment, to fall asleep in a new place the first night is always a bit of a challenge, but it was done.

Unfortunately I woke up an hour before my 7 a.m. alarm.

Fortunately I woke up an hour before my 7 a.m. alarm.

I got to see the sunrise, and that’s always a nice thing to do.

Lots of folks at Burning Man see the sunrise, but they are usually on the other end of it, staying up late to see it happen.

I tend to be up early.

My shifts officially start at 8 a.m.

I have to be up and dressed, a visit to the port-a-potty, sunblock, bed made, prayers said, utility belt strapped on, and ready to hit the ground running.

The day was great to start, though, I will admit I am tired now and it would not be a bad idea to take a nap.  I don’t know that I am going to get one today, I think there will be days I do, but today being the first day and the mama and the papa doing all the stuff, it may be hard to get one in.

My charge is down, which is how I am able to write at the moment, and my computer is charging, which seemed to be the issue last night, ran out of juice.

I have yet to run out of juice myself and I am hoping to keep it that way.

More dusty adventures to come.

 

PS

If you are coming out to the great dust bowl family reunion and want to visit, I am located in a Bambi Airstream at 8:45 & C at Camp Equilibrium.  Just ask for “Mary Fucking Poppins,” or “The Poppins.”

Home

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Rain Day

August 21, 2013

*This post was written last night, and as it turns out the weather was not as bad as it sounded while I was inside the trailer, but this was the post I wrote while waiting it out.

Irony?

Yup, another storm on the horizon, big one too from the looks of it.

But after that, forecasts, for whatever that’s worth, appear clear.

Exquisitely Lucky

Like way beyond grateful right now.

There is a rager of a dust storm happening, which is presaging a rain storm.

Yup, there is rain a coming, until about ten minutes ago I was outside with a cup of tea and a new friend talking about Burning Man adventures.

We were watching the lightning storm on the horizon guessing if we would be missing the storm or if it would make it to us.

Then, an update, rain, real rain, not the spatter of drops that flecked my face as I went out for my sunset bike ride.

I rode deep out into the playa, way past the Temple, where there was no one, no containers with artists materials, no noise, no sound, nothing but me, the high sky studded with whipped clouds underlit by the rosy sunset flocking the mountains ringing the high desert.

It was gorgeous.

Sunset

Sunset

I stopped my bicycle when I could not see anything but the mountains, the sky, the clouds and the horizon for 180 degrees.

Black Rock

Black Rock

Behind me I knew there was the event happening.

However, with my back turned, I could easily pretend that there was no one, just me, my bicycle and the stunning sky above.

Ok, now I just got a little frightened.  I have never experienced wind like this, the entire trailer is shaking and shaking hard, my tea is sloshing around in its cup like I am on an airplane experiencing severe turbulence.

I will not be leaving the trailer any time soon.

My boss warned me the weather was coming, jesus, this is intense, the entire trailer feels like its going to blow away.  I can’t tell yet if that’s rain out there or hail, but it’s big…

I got to stop writing.

No.

Breathe.

I am ok.

There is nowhere I can go, there is nothing to do, but ride it out and thank god I am riding it out in a trailer and not a tent.  I am really hoping that my friends have all secured coverage.

Fortunately this is happening before the event, if there were more folks out here it could be messy for emergency services.

If it rains really hard we won’t be able to move.

The boss said, don’t worry, we have lots of food in the fridge if we have to buckle down for a few days we’ll be alright.

If the playa floods, we cannot move.

And the way it sounds out there something catastrophic is happening.

This is already, hands down the worst wind and weather I have experienced out here in seven years.

Lucky number seven.

I hear shit flying out there.

I heard my bike get pushed over, it dropped against the trailer and slid to the ground.

God.

All the early art.

Fuck.

There are some beautiful pieces out there, I wonder how they are going to withstand this storm.

I wonder how long this is going to last.

The boss said inclement weather coming in an hour and a half.  That was at 10 p.m. it is now 10:28 p.m.  What is it going to be like by eleven?

The noise I heard was not rain, I think it was just big bits of playa smacking against the trailer.

Well, I have tea and I have coffee.

There is water in the water bottle and I can use the toilet in the trailer, although it was to be strictly for emergency only, so I built up a vanity over it so I wouldn’t be tempted to use it, except in said emergency.

I believe this qualifies.

I feel like if I open the door it will be pulled off its hinges.

In fact, I am tempted to lock it.

However, I am keeping it open as I told a couple of my friends if there were to get stuck out in this neighborhood they could use it as a bolt hole.

I don’t know that anyone will be able to see where I am, it is pure white out.

This blog is being done off line as well, there is no getting online.

There is no phone.

There is no one to call either.

I am not suffering an emergency.

Just some nerves.

I do want to get myself tucked into bed though.

I have Brazilian lounge music playing on the stereo and I can do a nice wipe down with some baby wipes, a whore’s bath if you will, and crawl under the covers and just sit it out.

I don’t think I will sleep any time soon, but the kettle is on and I can get out my book I am reading and just hunker down.

Ah, oh my god, there’s the rain.

That is heavy, thick sounding rain.

This is no little shower.

This is a downpour.

The playa is about to become soup.

No body is moving anytime soon.

I will keep you posted.

If I ever get out of here.


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