Black Rock City, Nevada

Spent another week in the desert outside Gerlach, Nevada for Burning Man. Woooo! To me, it's the most amazing and beautiful city on Earth, filled with mind-boggling talent and sheer energy.

All the tattoo'd, pierced, body painted, drunken, drugged, kooky artists united again. Together we had hope and we had fear. We hated Bush. We loved and made art. We went a week or more without flushing. We laughed a lot and made new friendships. We watched colorful sunsets and did delicious body shots. We survived severe dust storms. We got very, very little sleep and very chappped lips. I'm actually glad the environment is very harsh and uncomfortable at Burning Man, because it tends to keep boring people away. You know, the kind of people that ask you what you do for a living. Fuck small talk. Show me your silver penis!

This year, I walked the fine line between anger and disgust at such generic and pedestrian comments and behavior. When I met a first-timer and he asked me, "So, is there somewhere around here that I can get some food?" I gritted my teeth, put on a fake smile and told him the truth. "You can find anything you want or need here, you just have to find the right people." I tried to remind myself that it takes time to get acclimated to the culture of Burning Man, which is so vastly different than it is elsewhere. No money, no drive-thru fast food, no "normal." It's difficult to be polite and helpful and stay positive when you're hungover, dehydrated, sweating and overtired. I guess this year, I became a tad jaded, but that's not going to stop me from returning. Maybe next year, I'll work harder to educate new folks to the community.


Ask before taking pictures! Don't toss cigarrette butts on the ground! Offer something before you ask for something! Don't talk to me about God or any religion! Get your oily hands OFF my girlfriend and don't ever touch her again, especially not when she's sleeping!


Yeah, so the art was pretty fucking amazing. This photo doesn't do this piece justice, of course. I cried when I saw it for the first time. And I stopped and gazed in awe each subsequent time that I passed it. The number of individual weld points (tacs) was dumbfounding. The exterior was so perfectly smooth, but the components and interior components were jagged, irregular shaped metal machine parts. I was lucky enough to spend some time with a fellow who could identify most of the pieces that made up this monstrosity--certain types of wrenches and specialized parts of ship equipment. Of course, later in the week some YAHOOS used this piece of art as and anchor to chain and secure their bicycles at night. The good news is that the artist brought their welding equipment and melted the locks and therefore the bikes to the sculpture. HA HA HA. How fucking perfect is that?? See! Comedy, everywhere you look. Let's always maintain our sense of humor, always.