Posts Tagged ‘Xylophage’

Working It Out

August 30, 2013

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

Blissed Out

August 27, 2013

I am so fucking blown up right now, I don’t even know where to start.

I got to go to Burning Man tonight.

I am bliss.

I am blissed out.

I am so relaxed and zoned out and warm and fuzzy and cozy I almost did not write tonight.

I came within inches of just crawling into bed.

Then I remember I had to do an e-mail check in.

So, I opened my computer and I e-mailed my person.

Then I thought, well, I will just down load my photos, since the computer is up any how.

Which led to me posting them up to my other blog:

Say that fifteen times fast.

And since it links to my facecrack page I also went there and posted the rest of the photos that I did not put up on the blog.

Then I was already here and habits, man, they die-hard, so a writing I am a doing.

I got a brief reprieve from baby duty this morning and headed to the commissary sans family who were having a little sleep in snuggle action with the baby.  I ran into an old friend I had not seen in, well, since last Burning Man, and we shared breakfast, drank coffee, caught up, and made promises to see more of each other.

That of course, may or may not happen.

You never know what will out here.

I came back after breakfast and had baby duty.

We had our morning constitutional, I took him around the neighborhood in his little red Radio Flyer wagon with the red canopy.  I put a large overstuffed moose in the back and snuggle him in between the body and legs of the toy and he reclined upon it like the little playa prince he is.

I popped open my parasol and took a walk about.

It was a nice way to start my day.

After a long nap, the baby, not me, we then were off to the commissary for lunch with mom.

She was in meetings until about four, but said she would be coming back for a nap directly after.

And she did.

She snuck into the trailer while he was still sleeping and said, come back at six and we will go to dinner together and then you can take the night off.

Jesus on a pogo stick, that was what I needed to hear.

I debated napping, but was eager to go for a ride on my bicycle.

Yes! That’s right, a lovely soul in my camp fixed my flat tire while I was away at lunch.

I tell you, that was a nice surprise.

I gave him a huge hug and almost cried.


I tried to find my friend from Paris, but as it turns out he did not get in until this evening and I managed to miss him by minutes.  But I was assured by my previous camp mates that he had landed safely, was getting set up, was cute! Dang girl, thanks for telling him to camp with us, they are located in the Gayborhood, and was being escorted out to the playa to, well, go see Burning Man.

Which I did too after dinner.

And pre-dinner, I got a little hit, a little taste, a little groove on.

I went to Distrikt for the first time and climbed on top of a box and danced my butt off for a half hour.

Then a quick bike ride out to the playa to catch some art before returning to camp to have dinner with mama and baby.  Daddy was working and I never saw him until dinner, which was a pop in for a five-minute baby snack, before returning to work.

I was so tired at dinner I thought, what is the point of going out to see the art, I just want to go to bed.  What I really needed was to go see some fellows, so I did that and when I was refounded and refreshed mentally and emotionally and most certainly spiritually, I hopped abroad the bicycle and thought, well, since I am out already, why not just go out to the Esplanade.

Which led to me dancing at a disco party for about a half hour.

Then off across the playa, because, well, it looked so pretty out there and there was like, fire and stuff and bright lights and music and people in fantastical outfits.

Oh my god, I am at Burning Man.


I know you.

I like you too.

A lot.

I ran, or rather bicycled over to the Photo Chapel which had just opened its doors and was blown away by the beauty, dark and a morose, but also rarefied and beautiful in it’s angst and vaudvillian American Gothicness.

Photo Chapel

Photo Chapel

Photo Chapel

Photo Chapel

Photo Chapel

Photo Chapel

Photo Chapel

Photo Chapel








I was blown away.

I loved the piece the artist did last year, Ego, but this, this was something more.

I am not one hundred percent certain, but I thought it might be a memorial, the amount of labor, love, angst, grief, sorrow, and maudlin humor really broke my heart.

I left and wanted some lightness and cheer and hit up a couple of art cars and danced a  bit.

Then I saw the fire.

Ah fire.

How do I love thee.

Let me count the ways.

I rode my bicycle toward a set of flaming mushrooms.

Yes, I said, mushrooms.

And they were astounding.





But what was more astounding and what ended up being my favorite piece of the night, was the hot dry sauna inside one of the mushrooms.

It was like being inside the most wonderful wood sauna in the world.

I was so warm and relaxed and surrounded on all sides by wood panel with flames spouting over the top of my head, I could not fathom moving.

I sat inside the sauna for over an hour.

I am in love.

I was so happy and enamoured with the piece that a woman walked over to me and handed me a stack of stickers, the currency of cool here on playa, and it turns out I was in the middle of a Flaming Lotus Girl piece.

I love me some Flaming Lotus Girls.

It was the best.

I can see doing that every night.

I am still warm and relaxed and I am going to strip down and roll into bed.

A dirty, dusty, flamed backed nanny pie.

Hot and warm and loved and melty.

Just for you.

Night love.

It was wonderful to spend some time with you today.

Looking forward to more adventures tomorrow.


-Mary Fucking Poppins






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