Let It Burn!

Purgatory in the Black Rock Desert

Who says it isn't easy being green? This might be true in some places, but in Black Rock City, Nev., there is no better way to be. When the late summer days reach an arid 110 degrees and drinking water becomes too precious to let trickle onto the cracked playa floor, a dip in nearby Double Hot Springs no longer sounds appealing. A jaunt into the nearby town of Gerlach sounds seven miles too far out. The only other option is sacrificing costume attire to let the body swim through this Black Rock Desert heat.

At the Burning Man Festival, nothing is considered out of the ordinary, except ordinary. It isn’t unusual that every other person who passes along the dusty streets is naked. It isn’t a shock to see acrobats walking around on stilts or swinging from hand built trapezes. This must’ve been the same desert that Queen Priscilla journeyed out to find, because Black Rock is home to more drag queens, Ravers, freaks and artists than a Mardi Gras party in New York City.

"This is the place where some of the most innovative, fearless sorts gather to put up art installations, perform, party and pretty much express themselves any way they see fit," wrote Seattle Post's D. Parvaz. "Call it the lunatic fringe of the art world, call it an alternative experience, call it freaky."

Accountants, teachers and techies, among others who refuse to be classified by their day jobs, gather here together for one week under the doctrine of San Francisco artist, Larry Harvey.

"We spend a lot of time creating a world that is intended to feel sacred. We (as a society) don't have a sacred center. It got broke somewhere along the way," Harvey told fellow Burners.

Paint a picture of yourself at Burning Man!

The Bureau of Land Management granted permission to burn down a more looming 12- foot man. Thirteen years later in 1999, The Man towers 40 feet above a camp of 23,009 people. The Man himself is built during the first days of the festival in the camp's center.

Arranged in a semi-circle around him, horizontally lined streets are meant to resemble the planets’ rings around the Sun (The Man himself). Radial streets subdivide the arc into separate hours to signify the Wheel of Time.

Travel the Time Tunnel, an 80-foot long structure colored by over 800 rainbow lights zipping back and forth in ever changing patterns. Or fall down the rabbit hole and enter into a deceptively large den with a black and white checked floor.

Settle into one of the velvet beanbags and observe the surroundings. Don't be startled by the different characters that pass by, for it is all too real. The hare and the caterpillar sit in plush armchairs at the room's forefront, commanding visitors to reveal their most embarrassing stories.

After falling into this Lewis Caroll-like world, don't resist the desire to explore onward. Somewhere along the way two opponents are playing out a game of human chess and anybody caught loitering will be used as one of the pieces.

At dusk, join in a game of flaming soccer as the surrounding mountains absorb all natural light. Or join Team Canada's hockey match at their glowing rink. If the Vancouver DJ's they've imported don't satisfy a certain musical taste, a dance party surely exists only yards away. Just look above at two green beams of light scintillating across the sky. Watch the light catch itself in flying dust storms and spread across space like a fan. It's possible to trace the sources of this phenomenon. This is where the ravers spin to pulsing beats.

Like a summer camp for the twisted, people got to the festival to have fun and make friends!

Everything here feels real because participants feel real in the moment that they act, Harvey and others believe. Which would explain the many people seen pasted with sparkles. Somewhere off a crowded street anyone is welcome to roll around in bathtubs filled with glitter. Next door, fire-like extinguishers filled with colored dyes are used to paint a person a different color every day.

Two unidentified festival-goers check out an attraction.

Pyromaniacs toss their tricks as thundering feet keep rhythm with hundreds of drums, all beating together like one heart. Just when it feels as if even the air is going to burst, processions begin. Those who aren't among the encircling dance have been chosen to carry a ceremonial torch. For a single moment the masses spread apart like curtains to let the flame-bearers take front stage. Then an explosion as an arrow shoots towards The Man, piercing him right through his heart. The flame-bearers rush forward to lay their torches at his feet. Anybody who understands the sort of expression taking place in that desert feeds this flame. Fireworks screaming, wood and wax burning, feet pounding the dry playa floor, and a shrieking creak as The Man crumbles to the ground.

This is the moment to burn whatever one needs to be rid of. Alongside the furniture and papers thrown into the bonfires, items symbolic of hurtful memories and past experiences are forgotten.

"Leave No Trace" is Burning Man's theme. All artwork at the festival must be created on location and destroyed there too. In the end even the ashes and burn marks are scrubbed from the playa floor, leaving only the desert that was initially there.

The only souvenirs that exist at Burning Man are the ARF passports, and even these are rare commodities. No money is allowed to change hands in Black Rock City, except at the espresso stand in central camp. So if it's necessary, hide whatever mementos possible.

Otherwise, the only souvenirs to leave the desert will be fading patches of green on skin.