November-December

Nov-Dec 2015

The Veteran Virgin Part Two of a Journey Through the Desert Christina Marie

The Rise of

FEMM

Oscar Benjamin

The Day Buster Keaton Came to Town By: Cliff Weimer

Adrielyn Christi:

Amazing Women

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Inside INDIEblush Nov-Dec:

Cover Stories:

22

Part Two: The Veteran Virgin

12

By: Christina Marie Part 2 of 2. Part 1 is in Sept-Oct 2015 Cover Photo: R-Evolution,by: Marco Cochrane from: San Francisco, CA shot by Christina Marie

The Day Buster Keaton Came to Town By: Cliff Weimer

6 The Rise of FEMM

16

Thank you for your readership!

All stories and reprints used with permission.

All rights reserved.

Please direct any questions or comments to our website.

Editor-in-Chief/Founder: Christina Marie Staff photography: Quroscuro and CMYK Photography

Oscar Benjamin

AMAZING WOMEN By: Adrielyn Christi

About Our Contributors for this issue: Christina Marie, Founder, Editor-in-Chief:

Christina Marie is a Writer, Producer, Director, and Actress with over 30 years experience in the entertainment business. She obtained her Theater Arts degree from CSU Sacramento with a Minor in Music. After working on the stage for several professional theaters, she converted to film. She is driven by the INDEPENDENT spirit in film, fashion, wine & food, and the outdoors. When not working, Christina enjoys camping, crafting, regional wine tours, day spas, and spending time with her extended family.

Adrielyn Christi, Fashion Editor:

Adrielyn is an obsessed fashion, beauty and music lover. To her, fashion is art, expressed through each designer’s creation. She loves everything about the industry from the clothing to the shoes to the accessories -which is why she loves writing about it. She’s experienced some physical and emotional pain from a car accident several years ago, but has found that writing is now her therapy. This journey helps her meet the most amazing people in the publishing, blogging and photography world. Because of them, she has the opportunity to share her thoughts and experience a whole new different side of life.

Cliff Weimer, Film Historian

Clifford Weimer is a Sacramento-based writer and film historian; his website, inthebalcony. com, is celebrating its tenth year, and he also writes a regular column for ClassicFlix.com.

He’s contributed bios, documentaries, and other material for numerous DVD releases for various companies, including VCI Entertainment, AC Comics, and others. Some of his work can be found on such DVDs as The Green Hornet, The Phantom Empire, and Buck Rogers.

Arlene Barshinger, Media Outreach

Arlene Barshinger is a model, film producer, actress, and photographer. She is half German and half Korean, having been born in Fort Belvoir, VA. She’s been involved in such projects as Fruitvale Station, HBO’s Looking, HP commercials, and worked as an American Express Print Model. She also currently models for INDIEblush Magazine and Hopelessly Romantic.

April Potter, Sales and Marketing

April Pirl Potter has been involved in the Fashion, Arts & Entertainment industry for over 15 years working in film, television, music and fashion in various capacities. She is an Actress, MC, Stylist, Producer, Director, Writer, Videographer, Talent Booker and Promoter of the arts. She is fiercely dedicated to inspiring and connecting to others using media and entertainment as her medium, sharing it through Megatude Media. If she’s not on a production of sorts, April can be found playing out in nature with her two dogs Johnny Cash and Pirl.

Chris Kisela, Contributing Photographer (Owner of CMYK Photography.)

From my beginnings of shooting classic car shows to now, not much has changed. I still have a deep love for photography. When I’m not shooting, you can usually find me outdoors. I enjoy the thrills in life from scuba diving to going on bike rides. In my down time I can cozy up with a good book and a great cup of coffee and spend the day inside. I consider myself very lucky to be surrounded by such amazing people, my friends and family are truly a blessing. Often times while working, I get to collaborate with my talented partner and dance teacher, Christina Day. Some of my favorite moments to photograph are the small ones, the ones that are often times missed while the larger things are going on. I think these are the ones that are unquestionably the most beautiful and extraordinary. My goal as a photographer is to capture your unique moment.

From the Editor: Every now and again, I ask myself, is this my highest and best use? In this bi-month, we complete and look back on the journey to Burning Man. I dedicate this issue to all of you out there who are looking for answers and wanting to shake it up a bit.

I hope you enjoy, as sometimes I feel my best use is to write stories that reveal something new to the reader. I love promoting the Arts and I love being an artist- sometimes those interests clash. I hope you find my personal story to be entertaining and educational, not just an exercise in self indulgence. :) I credited as many art installations as I could. There are a few that I just couldn’t find a name for between the Burning Man materials and the Internet research I did. To the artists I could not find, I apologize! Please message me and I will be sure to publish corrections in January.

Thank you for reading our magazine!

Christina’s first stop at Burning Man

Do you know of an INDIE who could use coverage? Our mission is to highlight the INDIE films, fashions, wine producers, and more in the Northern CA region and internationally. We have a passion to tell the untold small story and introduce the undiscovered product or talent.

Please contact us with your story! We also take photo submissions through our site. You may be highlighted on our blog, social media, or in the magazine itself.

Thanks again!

~Christina Marie

Kimberly Lucero, Proofing:

Kimberly likes reading, writing, and long walks on the beach. She enjoys candle lit dinners, piña colada’s, and getting caught in the rain. Art, music, and theatre are top of the list, but she also enjoys cooking, painting, and sensual massages. Snuggling by the fire under a warm blanket and watching old love movies (while proof-reading, of course), Kimberly is a true romantic! The fact that she is “Librarian Hot” is a side effect of proofing INDIEblush.

Do YOU have what it takes to make us INDIEblush?

Send us a sample of your writing, photography, video, or join the sales team! INDIEblush aims to be a competitive magazine in the INDIE market. We need writers who are PASSIONATE about writing and all that is INDIE; photographers who have a unique eye with a knowledge of commercial production; and videographers who get 1 minute journalism. Is that you? email us at indieblush@gmail.com.

The Rise of FEMM Oscar Benjamin

The long held and established methods of marketing and introducing new music acts via music labels has been fractured due to growth of the internet.

This has forced many artists to seek creative and sometimes groundbreaking methods to disseminate their music to a public that now has the unprecedented power to truly choose what they wish to listen without the filter of music labels. Against the backdrop of this new state of music normalcy, the Japanese avant-garde FEMM has arisen to be embraced by a rabid fan base that has discovered their story through their music.

FEMM is an acronym for Far East Mention Mannequins and to understand who and perhaps what the group truly is, one needs to immerse themselves into their world. I dispatched my alter-ego known as the Compassionate Wolf to the J-POP Summit that is held annually in the city of San Francisco, California at the Fort Mason Center.

This is his report after documenting FEMM’s concert appearance and talking to the group’s representatives known as ‘agents’ known as Honey-B and W-Trouble who are from the ‘FEMM’s Agency Syndicate ‘.

FEMM is comprised of two rather strikingly beautiful mannequins created in the image of human beings of the female gender.

RiRi is the slightly more aggressive of the two because she was created as a military mannequin and bears the serial number SW-000000. LuLa was conceived as a medical mannequin and also bears a serial number of MS-000000. Both mannequins are usually clothed in skin type vinyl that vividly clings to their bodies like a second skin. Although they have a variety of outfits, RiRi tends to favor a militaristic inspired look with a primary color of black. LuLa favors a look that recalls that of a nurse complete with the classic sterile white scheme that many have associated with the medical profession. According to the group’s website (https:// femm.jp/), the living mannequins suddenly appeared in the streets of Tokyo in the year 2013 and began to capture the imagination of fans that the group likes to rename as agents ever since.

FEMM’s music falls well within the style called “electronic dance” with faint and fascinating echoes of past and present performers such as David Bowie, Kraftwerk and Gary Numan. Although their movements are precise much like a fine Swiss watch piece, there is a mesmerizing quality to their performance which goes well beyond brilliant chorography and precision. It is in essence two beings attempting to remove the shackles of their very soul in order to transform and capture what they believe to be humanity. These mannequins are demonstrating through performance the beauty and elegance that many of us take for granted because we are human and sometimes do forget that. It is an amazing impression that cannot easily be forgotten after experiencing their performance.

My alter ego, Compassionate Wolf sat down with the two agents after FEMM’s performance to further clarify the world of FEMM. It was a pre-interview procedure just as fascinating as stepping into a classic house of mirrors from the bygone era of the traveling carnival. FEMM’s promotional staff arranged the interview to occur after their performance and after a rather fun photoshoot that my alter ego thought would highlight their isolation and connection to humanity.

It was reminiscent of a guerrilla photo shoot since the shoot was conducted on a wide industrial catwalk that was obviously off limits to everyone but the engineering staff. A waiting game began as the Compassionate Wolf believed that he would be interviewing FEMM themselves, but was surprised by two women with dark clothing and sunglasses who were FEMM’s agents. This is the interview that was conducted in a stark space that seemed appropriate considering that the Compassionate Wolf had a lot of blank spaces to fill. It should be noted that Honey-B did most of the talking while agent, W-Trouble appeared to be scrutinizing my alter ego-the Compassionate Wolf Compassionate Wolf: The name of the group-Far East Mention Mannequins is a mouthful and very fascinating. Can you explain the origins of the name?

Honey-B: FEMM are mannequins and for a number of years mannequins have been mistreated by humans. They are tested for car crashes for new cars with airbags. They are dolls that are crashed like that or tested in general. Mannequins haven’t been treated nicely by humans and that is why FEMM stood up for the rights of the dolls. ‘Mention’ is a kind of warning for the world from the ‘Far East.’

Compassionate Wolf: It is your feeling then that mannequins perhaps have a life of their own that most people do not notice. They have a secret life?

Honey-B: They have feelings also just like humans do.

Compassionate Wolf: There was a film that was released in the 80’s called Mannequin that starred actress, Kim Catrall. Was FEMM which perhaps influenced by this film? Any comments?

Honey-B: I am actually not familiar with that film. There are movements going on in the world like FEMM has been doing. Mannequins have feelings too and should be treated like us but it is really hard to understand because mannequins don’t react in the same way we do. It seems like they don’t have any feelings because their facial expressions don’t change that much and that is why we are here to protect our mannequins.

Compassionate Wolf: When you mention mannequins, most people see a rather lifeless recreation of a human being. You put clothes on them and you use them for crash test dummies and so on. How did these particular mannequins come to life?

Honey-B: Our mannequins, LuLa and RiRi are very special. RiRi is a combat mannequin and has skills in fighting. LuLa is a healing mannequin and she usually wears a nurse outfit. Her special ability is to heal people and to fix broken mannequins as well. They were created about two years ago. These two are the leaders of this agency.

Compassionate Wolf: How has the reaction been across the world to these mannequins?

Honey-B: Quite good! We are based in Tokyo, Japan and FEMM loves to research and try to understand the human world and how they live. They often go out walking and looking at the cities. People often take pictures with them and talk to them and even though they cannot talk to them, we have seen them communicating with the supporters (fans) with their hearts. They don’t really need words because they are connected and people do understand them.

Compassionate Wolf: There is an art form known as pantomime whose practitioners sometimes portray living statues or mannequins. Do you find that mimes influence FEMM? Honey-B: In the case of FEMM because they are real mannequins-what they are doing is body language since it is hard to communicate with eye contact. They try to use their hands and movements and whatever they are feeling to communicate that with body language.

Compassionate Wolf: Technology has advanced- especially in Japan with robotic technology. Do the mannequins interact with the robots in Japan every once in a while?

Honey-B: People confuse mannequins with robots. FEMM’s dance is very similar to robotic dance movements, but it is different because robots are installed with programs. FEMM have programs also, but the big

difference is that they have feelings like humans.

They can be sentimental like humans or naïve. FEMM Compassionate Wolf: What is the philosophy of really haven’t had interactions with robots, but I think FEMM? You had touched upon it in your previous answer, but is there a mission statement that FEMM has they would be pretty good at it! as they tour the world?

Compassionate Wolf: Would you say that the Anime Honey-B: Sometimes people are confused and think convention venue is the perfect way to showcase that the mannequins want to take over the world, but FEMM? that is not the case. They are really peaceful creatures Honey-B: They don’t really try to fit in to just Anime and want to be friends with humans. That might be cons or EDM venues, but try to perform widely. They difficult for humans to understand so they are trying to make this a better world for humans and mannequins usually perform in Tokyo nightclubs, but they will perform wherever they are invited. They are open to to live. Please keep checking and keeping up with FEMM and we will try to return to the U.S. once again. any new challenges and they have an open mind to perform at any kind of performance space.

~OB Compassionate Wolf: Is there any thought that the evolution and origin of FEMM would make for an interesting motion picture or television series?

Honey-B: People ask us that and it is a possibility. We have a little teaser on YouTube and it shows how they became FEMM.

See FEMM’s Latest video on page 14

Compassionate Wolf: Are there any plans and can you talk about anything in that direction.

Honey-B: It is another goal that we could look at, but we do not have any concrete plans, but it is a possibility.

Compassionate Wolf: This is probably a pretty off the wall question, but I need to ask it anyway. There is a new James Bond movie coming out and in the world of James Bond there is some kind of outlandish technology or some interesting element that is off-kilter. I think FEMM would fit in perfectly. What would they think about that possibility?

Honey-B: We have never seen them act before, but it was a big challenge for us to have them take dance lessons and do recordings. They have done this for about a year, so it would be cool for them to act as well.

Compassionate Wolf: The name of the group also applies to the female gender, but are there any male versions of FEMM? Honey-B: Any kind of mannequin is welcome.

Anyone and any mannequin who is willing to join our movement and spread the word. We call it ‘Femm-Isation’ and the main goal is to save mannequins and stand up for the rights of mannequins.

Humans can join also.

You could be advertising HERE! contact us at

info@indieblush.com

To see FEMM via YouTube, Click Here!

FEMM video courtesy of YouTube channel: FEMM’S AGENCY SYNDICATE All Rights Reserved-GO BUY THEiR ALBUM on itunes: https://itunes.apple.com/jp/artist/ far-east-mention-mannequins/id821432047

To view Surreal, click here!

FEMM video courtesy of CMmedia follow Surreal on Facebook

#DYSPHORIA

A CMmedia/Quroscuro Collaboration

Winter Exhibitions: See #DYSPHORIA up close and personal!

Help us get to the GLOBAL STAGE at Burning Man: www.CapitolINDIEcollective.org www.dysphoriaproject.org www.quroscuro.com

This Page from Top to Bottom: Coco Chanel Founder and designer of Chanel- Photo by Douglas Kirkland /Sygma/Corbis Courtesy of www.chanel. com; Rei Kawakubo- Founder and designer of Comme des Garรงons Photograph By Eiichiro Sakata courtesy of www.comme-des-garcons.com; Muccia Prada: Founder and designer of Prada and Mui Mui brands-photographed by her close friend and right-hand woman, Manuela Pavesi courtesy of www.prada.com and www.muimui.com; Stephanie Sinclair, Photojournalist. Photo by VII Photo Agency Courtesy of www.tooyoungtowed.org and www.photography.nationalgeographic.com

WOMEN

A M A Z I N G

When this issue’s theme came up, I thought for sure it would be really easy to write about that special woman that has contributed to the world, community or organizations; but it wasn’t as simple as I thought it was going to be.

You see, after thinking about, reading about and seeing pictures of many women that do and have done so much in many ways, I couldn’t limit this to just one “Amazing” woman. It had to be many “Amazing” women. I can think of a handful of females that come to mind, deserving recognition for their many day to day contributions.

With October still fresh on my mind, (Breast Cancer Awareness month), this goes out to the MANY AMAZING women who are currently battling breast cancer, who have battled it and defeated it, and those who lost their battle with it. These women are truly amazing for being able to put on a brave face every day to their families, friends, co-workers and most of all to themselves. This must be one of the toughest things any woman can endure and still maintain their posture, grace and dignity.

Second is visual journalist for National Geographic, Stephanie Sinclair; while working on a story in Herat, Afghanistan about girls and women who set themselves on fire. In the hospital’s burn ward, she noticed that it wasn’t just the burns that these women had in common, but it was that most of them had been forced to marry as a child. When Sinclair learned that child marriage was a common practice in these type of communities throughout the world, she would dedicate the next 10 years of her life documenting this most abhorrent practice with the hopes of bringing upon change in these communities.

She eventually moved on to join forces with

the UN Population Fund (UNFPA) to help create a transmedia campaign that is aimed at bringing awareness to the problem. This in turn could help support the young girls who are already married and with the hopes of eventually eradicating the practice. If we all helped just a little, we could all join Stephanie Sinclair along with UNFPA in ending child marriage around the world.

The third woman that comes to mind is our Editor and Chief Christina Marie; she not only runs Indie Blush but is a mother and producer who gives her whole heart to each project and strives to help each person that requires her assistance. She runs the Capitol Indie Collective, which puts together a diverse group of talented artisans with a Non-profit organization with a mission to support artistic expression. Capital Indie Collective is a program aimed at providing education and information for independent artists of the community to freely practice their art form that delivers their visions. Programs like these can spread not only in the Sacramento Community, but throughout California. Christina Marie is the definition of a woman who can do so much and still think of more things to add to her plate and give it her all.

Lastly, are several female pioneers of the media and fashion business, these women have given so much of their heart and souls into each of their dreams and aspirations and have never backed down from their convictions. They are there for their teammates, co-workers, employees or whomever needs them. They have not and did not take no for an answer, which is a big reason behind their success. And no matter what have always managed to stay positive through each set back. They are as follows:

Christina Marie: Editor in Chief- INDIEblush Magazine/ Executive Director, Capitol INDIE Collective www.indieblush.com

For more information about Too Young To Wed and Stephanie Sinclair please visit www.tooyoungtowed.org and www.photography.nationalgeographic.com

Myra Postolache: Senior Fashion Editor -Trend Prive Magazine www.thesecretcodeoffashion.com

Stella McCartney: Designer www.stellamccartney.com

Pat McGrath: Professional Makeup Artist www.facebook.com/PatMcGrathReal

www.prada.com

Charlotte Tilbury: Founder and Creator of Charlotte Tilbury Cosmetic Co www.charlottetilbury.com

Catalina McGee: Editor in Chief-Trend Prive Magazine www.trendprivemagazine.com

The Day Buster Keaton Came to Town

Buster Keaton (1895-1966) is a name synonymous with silent-era comedy, sharing the rarified air up there in the pantheon of greats that includes only Charlie Chaplin and Harold Lloyd. New generations constantly discover the brilliant comedies and unequalled stuntwork of Keaton’s heyday, but as an independent filmmaker, Buster also has a precautionary tale worth remembering.

Li’l Joseph Keaton was born in 1895 to poor vaudeville folk; he was on stage as part of their act by the time he was three, and his father discovered the kid had a talent for being thrown across the stage and splatting against the wall or furniture without breaking any bones. “That was quite a buster!” Harry Houdini said backstage one night, and the name stuck.

(If Houdini gives you a sobriquet, you keep it.)

The Great War broke up the act; Buster was drafted and sent to France, where he saw no action except for the occasional fraulein. Returning after his stint, he chanced upon old pal Roscoe “Fatty” Arbuckle on the streets of New York; Roscoe had just signed a new contract to make two-reel comedies; would Keaton like to join him as a writer and actor? Buster was reluctant, but decided movies with Fatty beat getting thrown across the stage, and accepted. For the next three years, Keaton was featured in more than a dozen of Fatty’s 2-reel films, and when Arbuckle was promoted to full feature production in 1920, Keaton was given his own production unit to make short films.

For the next ten years, Keaton turned out films that were consistently funny, brilliant, and inventive; his best movies were made in conjunction with other writers and directors, yet were uniquely his own. By 1923, his shorts had proven successful enough that he was elevated exclusively to feature films, beginning with Three Ages, a parody of D.W. Griffith films looking at love through three epochs:

prehistoric times, the Roman era, and modern day (well, 90-years-ago modern day). In all three periods, Keaton loses his girl to a bigger, uglier guy, and fights to get her back, succeeding in the final reels. The highlight of the modern portion is Keaton leaping from one rooftop to another, missing, and falling several stories, hitting canopies all the way down in one of those “how did he do that?” moments that happen all the time in Buster’s work.

One masterpiece followed another, including Sherlock, Jr. (1924), The Navigator (1924), and The General (1926).

The latter is a Civil War epic about a stolen train, and while it’s considered Keaton’s masterpiece and one of the great films of all time, in its day it was considered a big-budget fiasco without the requisite number of laughs necessary to sustain all the action. This was the first of Keaton’s films to be released

by United Artists, which tried to impress their new star by allocating a ridiculously high budget (the solitary staging of the wreck of the train off a fiery bridge reportedly cost $50,000 to stage, and that was just one shot in the film). Yet the reviews were terrible: “This is by no means so good as Mr. Keaton’s previous efforts. Here he is more the acrobat than the clown, and his vehicle might be described as a mixture of cast iron and jelly.” -- New York Times “Long and tedious -- the worst thing Keaton’s ever done” -- Herald-Tribune United Artists hastily concocted a low-budget slapstick for Buster called College, an obvious and unsuccessful attempt to cash in on Harold Lloyd’s recent smash hit The Freshman. When that film proved disappointing, the studio allowed Buster to once again, and for the last time in his career, have full rein in an independently-produced film.

Buster decided to come to Sacramento to film his last great

film, Steamboat Bill, Jr. Keaton – an avid boater and fisherman – was well familiar with the congruence of the Sacramento and American Rivers, and concocted a story about a lifelong, grizzled old riverboat man reunited with his long-lost son, who turns out to be a sissified dandy who doesn’t know his aft from his stern. Old Steamboat Bill tries to stomp the Tinkerbell out of Junior, first by cutting off his ridiculous moustache, then by finding just the right hat for him, then by teaching him to put on his big boy pants and be a sailor. That means competing with the neighboring rich guy’s new electric-powered ferryboat, and the rich guy’s daughter and Buster are in love, so there’s THAT complication. And there’s a hurricane’s a-comin’, too!

Although Sacramento as depicted in the film looks pretty much as Old Sacramento does in the present, it’s actually a fake town built a couple miles down the river so that it could be destroyed by the storm (Sacramento landmarks appear in the distance, though). The first hour of the film is funny enough, as Buster attempts to appease his horrified father, but the final two reels, with the storm that tears apart the town building by building, plank by plank, and lifts and dunks Buster through a series of perils, notably a ride on a tree and, yes, his most famous stunt: a building that falls on him but has an open window placed just right, maybe the most dangerous stunt in movie history (stay on your mark, there, Mr. Keaton).

Buster put his all into the picture, a shining gem in the history of silent comedy.

United Artists was pleased with the rushes, and kept giving Buster more money (the reasonable $200,000 initial budget doubled during production) to make the hurricane larger and more impressive, and thus funnier. Alas, audiences – perhaps disappointed by his recent efforts – stayed away, and the film ended up being another disappointment, actually doing worse than any Keaton film to date. Although Keaton would make good films again, his career was now no longer

in his hands; he was forced to close his independent studio and go to work for MGM. As the silent era ended, Keaton became merely another studio employee, where he was stuffed into increasingly unfunny talkie features, often partnered with Jimmy Durante. His films of this era were light on laughs, and the prime Keaton moments are too few. His personal life and his drinking both spiraled out of control, and he was unceremoniously dumped by MGM in 1934.

Buster Keaton lived another 32 years, making bad comedy shorts serving as a gag-writer for Laurel & Hardy, the Marx Bros. and Red Skelton. Keaton was a perennial TV favorite in the 1950s, and appeared in several of the Beach Party films of the 1960s. He also had unforgettable roles with Charlie Chaplin in Limelight (1952) and Gloria Swanson in Sunset Boulevard (1950). His last film, released posthumously, was A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum in 1966; he died in February of that year.

Steamboat Bill, Jr. is today recognized as a masterpiece of silent comedy, and has been meticulously restored in High Definition by Kino Lorber, which licenses the Keaton independent films.

Portions of this article originally appeared at ClassicFlix.com.

Part Two: The Veteran Virgin Photos and Story by Christina Marie

Months of preparation and imaginings of what may come were not enough to inform me of the actualization that is Burning Man. We’ve heard the cliché before that words cannot describe the Burning Man experience, but it is true in this: The enormity and ambiance of the experience will exceed all preconceptions. Even the most diligent researcher may agree that a first time experience at Burning Man cannot be conveyed accurately. Such was the case with me. I watched every documentary I could get my hands on, read every blog I came across, took advice from several Burners, and tried to imagine the scale of the event based on pictures I avidly pinned on Pinterest.

An 8x10 photo cannot convey the omnipotence of the 60 foot tall wooden man that looms over the great emptiness of the desert. A snapshot of a woman in a headdress does not give you the warmth of her tight embrace and genuine radiation of good will. A video of a theme camp does not provide the constant taste of dust in your mouth or the feeling that someone is always looking out for you and ready to assist. Yet, as a writer, I MUST try to put into words what I simply cannot.

My journey began at 3:30 a.m. I placed the last of what I needed into the truck and hit the road with my Producer, “Jack” (name changed to protect the not-so-innocent). I was excited and nervous about my assignment to work as a camera-person. We joined up with a caravan and before we hit the Sierras, I saw my first Burning Man hitchhiker. We sailed through the commute with a brief stop in Reno to enjoy an unexpected bite of breakfast with new friends. I could not realize how spoiled I was to live just a few short hours away from the Playa until I actually arrived.

I really thought Gerlach, Nevada was going to be bigger. If you close your eyes and yawn, you will miss the town completely. Gerlach is the “last chance” stop for all of your Burner needs. They have created a specialty economy around the Burn and the thousands of people who pass through annually. Pop-up stands boasting of the “Best Glow Gear”, “Best Indian Tacos”, and “Gourmet Pizza” line the one street that serves as the thoroughfare. If you forgot your fury leg-warmers that glow with rainbow ferocity, you can pay top dollar to grab some on the way.

Just down the road from Gerlach, The traffic was filtered through 3 gates. At the first gate we had a 35

minute wait. As I sat patiently, I noticed people getting out of their cars, running and embracing each other, shedding clothes, and dancing. They seemed to know each other, yet I noticed they were introducing themselves for the first time. I had unofficially arrived at Burning Man. At gate #2 was the line for will call and vehicle inspection. Don’t even try to hide people or drugs in your car. They were pretty thorough. I expected a HUGE line for those claiming last minute vehicle passes, but we had no line at all, and within minutes we had our pass. I also had my first Porto-potty experience of Burning Man before I jumped back into the vehicle, and at the time, I was thinking, “That wasn’t so bad...”, but I digress.

The traffic travels between 5 and 10 MPH for safety and reduction of dust clouds that may start small, but can swell to great heights when combined with the Playa winds. I forgot to put my seatbelt back on after getting the vehicle pass, and was quickly reminded at Gate #3 that I will get a ticket if I don’t keep it on until I arrive at camp. Our friendly greeter at this gate, “Dave from Sacramento,” then had me get out, ring a bell and yell at the top of my lungs, “I’m not a Virgin anymore!!!” He let me get away with not doing a Playa Angel due to the camera gear we had in the vehicle, but I could tell he was slightly disappointed.

“Welcome Home.” He said as his eyes twinkled. I cannot describe how powerful a phrase that was and still is. It was a direct hit to the battleship that is my soul.

I fought back the tears and said in a wavery voice, “Thank you.” It was not the last time I would hear that said to me on the Playa.

All-in-all it took about an hour and a half to get through the gates and to the site. Finding the site was a small challenge as it was build-week and our camp had not yet been built. All we had to navigate with were these tiny landscaping flags that lined the “streets”.

The rest of our caravan arrived shortly after and we began to build as quickly as possible as a Dust Storm was coming in with predicted 60MPH+ winds later that day.

Some young German-speaking men from Switzerland

were setting up directly next to us. They were making something that looked like a giant cocoon with several tents underneath. I was enamored with their manner of speaking and wild gestures. I giggled to myself as I recognized a word that needed no translation, “IDIOT!” That broke the ice for us. Blushing, one of them said, “Sorry. We have different opinions on how this is done and it is the first time we have ever done this.” I couldn’t believe they rolled the dice and blindly followed an Internet plan for their shade structure.

However, by the time the winds hit, they were situated safely inside (Score 1 for the Swiss).

My tent, however, was exposed to the prevailing winds coming from the south-west. At a very early hour of the morning, the tent hit my face and I awoke to a strange “Shhhhtink!” sound. I immediately knew it was our shade structure coming apart. I was out of the tent like a shot and grabbed one end as it was rising to the wind like a giant sail. My feet came off the ground, then I was joined by Jack. The winds had put him in such a foul mood he suggested we just let it go. Rather than let steel pipes go flying through the air at 60 MPH landing on “God Knows Who”, I had another idea. I kicked out the legs and brought the roof of the structure down on my side. He got the idea and did the same with his. I was able to grab some ratchet tie downs and reinforce it to the ground.

Crisis averted by 5 a.m.

was at this time I secured a “back up plan” just in case Jack should want to leave again. We had a long week ahead and had to make it to the actual “Burning of The Man” if we were going to get the footage we needed.

I read on many blogs that the Playa really challenges people. Friendships and marriages can be forged or destroyed in just a few minutes. The key is: stay hydrated, well-fed, and somewhat well rested. I might also add: be sure to take your medications on time.

The Alkalinity of the Playa will mess with your body and brain chemistry in many ways-but more on that later.

I took the opportunity to visit my buddies just a few blocks away at the Duck Pond that day. They were having their challenges too. The storms had prevented them from erecting their Tower and Duck Beacon. Most of them were hunkered down in their “Back Porch”, an area where all of the tents were built under a very large shade structure system surrounded by their vehicles. Even under strong leadership, the Playa was not allowing them to finish set up and they were supposed to be the opening party on Sunday night.

My bike had become the number one hazard to my health.

Cue, “Riders on the Storm”. This would be the theme song of the week.

Friday and Saturday were challenging days as the dust storms continued for about 80% of the days and nights.

By Saturday afternoon, Jack proposed we leave Burning Man. I was shocked. A four year Veteran wanting to leave before the festivities had even begun! “This is the worst I have ever seen it.” He said. I thought to myself, “Well if that is the worst, I can’t wait to see the best!” I’m glad I never said that aloud as I quickly understood I was the adventurous one in this group.

I finally convinced him to stay and suggested he take some time alone to explore and get his mojo back. It

“You rode out here in this crazy storm?” My friend, Craig, said.

I replied, “Yes- I also snowboard in whiteout conditions!” We had a good laugh. In all seriousness though, the white out conditions are nothing to be trifled with at Burning Man. If setting out on your bike, make sure you are lit up and that you have plenty of water, some food, and a jacket in case the sun goes down before you can make it back to your camp. I had to “behead” the Schwingo on some days because the gusts of wind would catch his not-so-aerodynamic head and turn my handle bars instantly. My bike had become the number one hazard to my health. Vehicle policy is to stop in white outs, but that didn’t stop some art cars and other bikes from becoming a hazard.

Imagine a surreal dense fog that suddenly parts to have a parked semi just inches away from your front tire.

The powder and wind can also permeate your goggles at certain angles temporarily blinding you. At times I would walk my bike farthest to the right of the road for

“The Man� by many artisans and volunteers Photo: Christina Marie

safety, but during build week, the road is hard to see in white-outs and there are many moving vehicles trying to unload camps.

Sunday morning (Opening Day) gave way to a beautiful day! While the winds were still up a bit, there was no dust flying for most of the day. We were able to finish setting up our camp and I began the first “dig out” of the week. We must have pulled out a cubic yard of dirt from our tents (only to find out later on that more storms were coming). If tent camping, I suggest looking up ways to “playa proof ” your tent mesh or simply buy canvass tents. I decided to take my first Playa bath on Sunday. While I stood in a small “Kitty Litter” bin, I used baby wipes and a wash cloth soaked in vinegar and essential oils to take off the layers of powder (imagine cornstarch all over your body in a thick application). I created very little gray water doing this- approximately 2 cups- and my bin doubled as my evaporation pond. My hair was another issue all together. My braids had gone from black to beige. I just stood outside, upside-down and clapped my hands over them. Poofs of Playa drifted away on the breeze. Dusty hair would have to do until midweek. When I lifted my head I caught sight of, “ZeGerman-Swiss”, in their underwear again, setting up an outdoor shower stall complete with evap-pond. They caught my eye and waved. “Our women are coming today!” They continued to struggle with the side walls made from tarps.

At this time, I’d like to point out a few tips that would be useful to a Virgin: #1 Pack a Playa outfit (or wear it in the car ride to Burning Man) for setting up camp. Many folks just

stripped down to their underwear when they got there due to the heat. Snug fitting shorts for the ladies are recommended as dust blowing into your crotch area is bad news for Ph levels (booty shorts or bike shorts will do). As for tops, a bikini or halter works well. Closed toe and heel shoes/boots are recommended for setup, as stepping on Rebar -not yet capped- is the #1 injury on the Playa. I chose to double-sock and this worked famously. I acquired no blisters or Playa foot as a direct result. #2 Pack your batman belt or camel back on top with your essentials already placed for use. I recommend toileting supplies, baggies for disposal of wet wipes/feminine hygiene products, a Swiss Army Knife, a bike multi-tool, your cup with ID taped to it, lip balm, hand sanitizer, $12 cash in singles (for ice), and your small camera. #3 NOTHING BUT FECES, URINE, and SINGLE PLY Toilet paper goes in the Porto-potties. I am sad to report that on day one I discovered a beer can in the Porto. Flushable Wet wipes DO NOT go in the Porto. Feminine Products DO NOT go in the Porto. The Porto company will stop cleaning your Portos if you can’t follow these simple rules. Worse yet, they may stop providing Portos all together, and then you are down to your 5 gallon bucket... ick. #4 The more pre-packaging you can do, the better!

I happened to pack a “day uniform” for each day. It consisted of 2 pair of socks, underwear, shorts, halter top, & accessories all in ONE Gallon-sized Ziploc Bag. That way I just had to open my bin, quickly grab a Ziploc, and I had all I needed to get dressed. The same goes with food. I pre-packaged a couple of handfulls of snacks in snack-sized Ziplocs for grab-and-go nutrition. Trail mix, almonds, and Pirate Booty were

my in-betweens that kept me going. Having them portioned out kept the dust in my food to a minimum and I didn’t over-snack. Individually wrapped and Ziplocked burritos made dinners super-simple (I even enjoyed them cold).

“Totem of Confessions” by Michael Garlington Photo: Christina Marie

“But what about the raucous partying?”, you ask. Let’s get back to the Duck Pond. They host the “Must Attend” Opening Party every year. On Sunday, the 30th, they had their “ducks in a row” (so to speak) by early evening and when we got there, we were quickly wrist-banded and served our choice of “Beer” (Pabst Blue Ribbon) or “Playa Special” (whatever and whatever mixer). Their goal is to get you “ducked up” then have you ride on their “Ducking Bronco”. They also had “Duck Hunt”, the early Nintendo Game ready to roll and a dance floor that spilled out into a larger area of the camp.

The puns with Ducks rolled freely all night and seemed funnier as I drank more.

I then made the silly decision to ride my bike to the other Opening Night Attractions.

A few bar camps were up and running as were some sound camps, but I thought I’d ride out to the Man. Negotiating gusts of dust, art cars, and many more bikes than the previous week was challenging. There are no “road rules” at Burning Man and many Global Citizens drive on the “wrong” side of the road.

Add the folks who thought it might be a good idea to walk while wearing no lights, and you have a recipe for disaster. My world became a macabre menagerie of transformed beings, giant beasts, and flashing neon floating in and out of darkness! It is a miracle that I made it to the carnival at the base of the Man at all.

Thinking I was out of the woods, I stopped my bike at the bike rack. I swung my leg around to dismount my

flamboyant steed, “The Schwingo” and I had completely forgotten that The Schwingo was an “across the front” dismount. My leg caught the pole on the back of the bike and I went down in a heap of surprise, leg-warmers, and playa dust. Luckily enough, I broke my bike worse than I broke myself. The tweaked “neck” and broken basket would be repaired the next day. The black, volley ball sized bruise and scraped knuckles would be there later to remind me I am mortal after all. Yes, that just happened, but I had A Man to see and Carnival games to play!

The scale of everything that evening made me feel as though I was a fly flitting around in a Flea Circus. Art installations towered above me, daring me interact with them; Art cars spewed fire into the neon-peppered night; Carneys and Freaks tempted me on; and even my smile seemed to float before my face like the Cheshire Cat’s grin.

My inner child was exploding out of my chest and standing 10 feet tall (I swear I didn’t drop Acid and I am pretty sure I wasn’t dosed either).

The fascination and child-like wonder that I experienced was compounded by many years of ignoring myself for work, family, and a bustling world where I have “responsibilities”. If there was ever a giant playground for grown up kids, this was it.

Monday was the first day that I rode across the Playa.

I have been told by many that the Circumference is unfathomable. It’s really 7 miles long (each leg of the pentagon is 1.4 miles). Maybe they have never run cross-country, or backpacked across the desert, or canoed down the Colorado River. Burning Man is approximately 3.37 square miles in size. It has been rumored to be the same size as San Francisco’s Downtown District. Frankly, I could easily walk from one side to the other, but I would prefer the leisurely ride

on my bike. I saw a few people running the outer fence as a morning challenge and apparently, there is a 50k marathon that happens yearly-although I didn’t know the route and missed seeing the event.

by our neighbors, Ice cold Cosmopolitans at Celestial Bodies, and ultimately: coconut flavored ice cream at Halcyon’s Pink Heart Camp. The Playa does INDEED provide.

Across the Playa, I met a man named, Yuri of whom I found to be a beautiful soul. He hosts a “White Russian” party every year and I was invited to attend later that week. On my way home, I ran into a woman I had met only briefly in Truckee a few weeks before at a used clothing store. She was buying items for her camp, “Naked Zebra” (which gifts clothing), and told me that she would see me in Black Rock City. I ended up receiving a beautiful black dress that I intend to wear to my next red carpet event. I told her I was shocked at this chance happening, but there is something magical about Burning Man. She told me If you can imagine it happening, IT CAN HAPPEN. She wasn’t a prophet, she just articulated what I couldn’t put my finger on. For instance, I met David, a young twenty-something with box braids like mine. He had traveled from the East coast to the West Coast in a camper and upon arriving in Black Rock City, his refrigerator broke. It was our similar hair styles brought us instantly together, but somehow the Playa knew he might need my skill set. I did my best to help him fix his fridge and offered him food from my ice chest. He thought it kismet that we should meet, but I believe it is something different. I saw him later that night at our bar and by that time I am sure he was “Dancing with Molly” and having a grand time, but he remembered me and gushed about how “Awesome the Playa is....The Playa Will Provide!” (Hugs and kisses all around!) If you can imagine it, it can happen, and the Playa will provide.

That evening I met a lovely older couple that I roped into our bar. They were in from Utah enjoying their first Burn. They were amazing conversationalists and reminded me of my own parents. It was at that moment that I knew I had to get my parents into this human experiment. There are many “Seniors” in Black Rock City- most of whom refuse to go into the night quietly. I found each aging BRC citizen to be fascinating. They were experienced and sage, yet their inner child radiated from them strongly. These aren’t people chasing their youth or making up for lost time.

They are open souls looking to communicate across different generations, cultures, and backgrounds. They exude light and love from their very pores- appearing to be grateful that they can express themselves freely-free from fear of being labeled as immature, inappropriate, or wild. They too, stayed up past their bedtime. My new couple friends from Utah took a chance and rode with us to deep playa on the art car. We braved white out conditions and chilling temperatures to venture out to booming sound camps and giant art cars that doubled as impromptu discotheques.

On “Tutu Tuesday”, I gifted a tutu to Jack. He wore it like a good sport and we went to breakfast at the “Waffle Dome” (The Shady Waffle) set up down the street.

They seemed to serve everything EXCEPT Waffles.

Directly after we were greeted with fresh baked cookies

Wednesday rolled around and I realized that I had been so distracted by the storms and multi-faceted stimulus that I had forgotten about my own makeup.

I tried to focus on body-painting and implement a look I had in mind, but to no-avail. The high winds remained outside- dumping over my body paint pots, and the temperatures inside my tent were too muggy to do practical make-up very well. I ended up brushing bold colors over my forehead and eyes “Mad Max” Style and called it a day.

The white outs were back, but one of our camp-mates had found a way to make the most of it. We crafted

“Brainchild” by Michael Christian Photo: Christina Marie

“R-Evolution” by Marco Cochrane Photo: Christina Marie

in the shelter of a playa dome, making 7 strand yarn bracelets while others played Scrabble. However, my wanderlust got the best of me and I was off on my Schwingo- his head restored- as it was more fun when people recognized the work that goes into an Art bike (winds be damned). Armed with the thought, “OK, Playa, deliver me awesomeness”, I set out.

of “Ass Stamp Camp”**. He was the fearless leader of “Horny Camp”** and decided to takeover Ass Stamp Camp.... just because. I spent a great deal of time there until I realized that I did have to get ice before “Arctica” closed down for the day. I thanked Josh for his hospitality and said good bye to multiple new friends.

I returned to my camp with 2 bags of ice assuring my food lives another several days and regrouped for night I know it sounds small, but the Playa delivered me an time fun. We took the “Flaming Ho” (art car) out amazing first. Our portos were freshly cleaned! What again that night. We went swing dancing, had pickle a luxury to look down and see nothing but clean plastic martinis, and experienced a giant hammock strung beand blue empty solution. Today was going to ROCK. tween three massive towers of dance floors... and here Looking back to my first day, when I thought, “Portos is where I learned a lesson in controlled chaos. aren’t so bad...” I now giggle at my naïveté. They get bad. Real bad. That’s why Rule #1 for Art cars: If you you MUST respect them and jump onto one, you give up do your part. some say of where you go (our driver was very demMy second stop landed ocratic-but others may not me in a “Foot and Eye Day be).

Spa” (**may not be actual name-many camps received Rule #2: If you choose to unofficial nicknames and get off and not return to the Wednesday was a blur). My car, TELL SOMEONE. This feet were bathed and masis very important as one of saged while my eyes rested our campers took off with behind cucumbers. My Masfriends and we spent a long seuse, a Burner of 17 years time looking for her before was an excellent professor in we returned to camp. She all that is BRC and I gained was safe at camp, but the further insight to the exworry we had conflicted treme culture of Burning with the next rule.

Man. “Those who participate win.” Oh, I was #winning alright! As if that wasn’t fantastic enough, they Rule #3: If you are not back at the Art car when it is offered me home-made, cinnamon walnut ice cream to ready to leave, you may have a long walk home & cantop off my experience. The white outs cleared briefly not blame the Art car for leaving without you. Underacknowledging this moment and was that an Opera standing the unspoken rules can help, but it is always Singer singing?? (Yes. Yes it was). After a heartfelt best to have a group understanding. thank you and big hugs all around, I took the opportunity to bicycle on.

Thursday I arose to another sunrise, fresh Portos, and the ambiance of Diesel trucks rolling by- delivering “Hey Flamingo!” He shouted. I looked to the left. ice and watering down the streets. I noticed at that “Yeah YOU! C’mon- you need an Ass Stamp!” As moment, the early morning crowd was getting smaller silly as that sounded, I made a u turn and parked. The and smaller, yet the population of Black Rock City was detached voice was “Josh” and with another white out growing quite a bit. rolling in, I thought another stop might be good. It turns out a little spanking, stamping, and drinking is Thursday is a big day in BRC. It’s when the folks who fun with not-so-strangers. I enjoyed my host so much can only get a couple days off from the Default World I broke a “rule” one of my mentors gave me: don’t stay file in-trying to make it a 4 day weekend. It also brings too long. It turned out that Josh wasn’t actually part the biggest influx of “Sparkle Ponies” and marks the

first day of the BIGGEST party-nights.

Nothing could have prepared me for what Thursday was going to bring.

After a quick wipe down and sunscreen application I decided to sit out front at my camp and write, but the Playa had other plans. Two weary travelers were immediately delivered to my front porch. One of them, Ryan, a 23 year old hitchhiker in from Eugene, Oregon smiled at me and said to his new friend, “She looks like she knows what she’s doing!”

“Do I?” I replied with a raised brow. His friend had badly broken handlebars.

“Do you know anyone who can fix this?” Ryan asked.

“Yeah,” I realized, “I actually I do. I can fix that.” His friend pointed out that it needed a special tool. I just smiled and pulled the tool out from my batman belt.

It was a hexagonal bolt that needed adjusting. I repositioned the handlebars, slid them back into place, and while I tightened the bolt, I asked the two for their story.

pulled over. It was a German tourist who told a tale of a mystic who said he must buy a “spare ticket for a young man who would need it.” Ryan was in the zone.

Since his arrival, Ryan had found a camp to stay with, a bus ride home to Eugene, food and water each day, and managed to not freeze to death at night. There was a magic about HIM as well. Beyond an obviously high IQ, his eyes seemed to sparkle with wisdom beyond his years. The thought that popped into my head was, “I could be speaking to a future president of the United States.” I had to introduce him to “Judy”, a camp-mate of mine that I knew would enjoy talking politics with Ryan. As I suggested he stay for a bit to meet Judy, she arrived out of nowhere. They began conversing as the air seemed to electrify.

They were discussing politics in media and the Internet when Judy said something like, “The problem is there’s just too much information out there”, a sentiment I have felt before: too much, too fast, without facts.

Only in BRC is it “normal” to see several “drunkies” Then Ryan came back with something that dropped my jaw. “It’s before breakfast. not too much information. It’s the

And that’s when Ryan blew my mind.

This 23 year-old had just graduated as a Political Science Major from a respectable school last Spring.

After growing up as an “Air Force Brat” under the rule of his strict, regimented father, he decided to finally do something “wild”: He threw together a small backpack and headed for Burning man with the clothes he had on that day. He didn’t have a ticket. He didn’t have ten gallons of water. He didn’t even appear to have a jacket! For lack of better phrasing, he had heard of the “magic” of Burning Man and wanted to just “go for it”.

It took him 2 days to “thumb it” from Eugene, OR to Gerlach, NV -”overnighting in the woods”... and he still didn’t have a ticket. There was a person in Gerlach who had made a cardboard sign that read, “Burning Man Virgin Needs a Ticket”. That person had been there waving the sign at traffic for hours when Ryan ran into him. “I need a ticket too,” Ryan said.

“Here.” The person said, “I’ve been here for hours with no results,” and he left. Several minutes later a vehicle

provocative way it’s delivered.” I was shocked that at just 23 he had already seen through the construct and was better able to articulate it. I shivered. Then I realized how cold it was.

“You need a jacket and breakfast,” I said. Another camp mate directed him to the camp behind us, “Burn Town” where they gifted tobacco snuff and had a small kiosk of “give something or take something.” Ryan found a jacket and couple of other accessories to make his life easier on the Playa. As he came back to thank us, another camp-mate had rustled up a plate and fork so he could join us at the “Waffle Dome” which opened in an hour. He just beamed. We said our “goodbyefor-nows” and the two weary travelers became the two explorers once more.

We reunited with Ryan in line for breakfast and his exploits had brought him even more since we had parted.

He was experiencing the Magic he sought after, indeed.

Breakfast was excellent the second time at the Waffle Dome and the Mimosas and Bloody Mary’s we had

“Totem of Confessions” by Michael Garlington Photo: Christina Marie

beforehand made for interesting line-fellows. Only in BRC is it “normal” to see several “drunkies” before breakfast.

After breakfast, I wanted to go to the Temple to say goodbye to some friends I had recently lost. It was a pretty day, and I thought I’d get out there before the next dust storm. Jack wanted to tag along and reminded me that our “White Russian Party” was on the other side of Black Rock City that day. We set out, and shortly after our arrival to the Temple, white-out conditions hit again. While the Temple was huge and awe-inspiring, I found it to be quite claustrophobic and oppressing as the large open archway spiraled down to a small opening into a courtyard. I said my good-byes quickly and left my memorials. I emerged cautiously happy and when Jack caught up with me, he found me chatting lightheartedly with another visitor. We had much different experiences there. Jack emerged darker, more reflective, as if he absorbed other people’s pain. From what I saw, the Temple evoked many different emotions from the populace. It is a sacred place and can reflect things we might not be ready to see yet.

The trek across the open Playa that day became more labored then. The winds foretold an impending catastrophe lay ahead. My intuition was firing off like “Love” by Alexandr Milov Photo: Christina Marie

crazy and I reveled in the respite of a giant castle that seemed to appear out of the Abyss. From there, we made it to 3:00 side of BRC. Snow cones, flavored popcorn, and sodas made for an interesting break before we ultimately arrived at Yuri’s place for White Russians and light fare. His camp’s “back yard” opened up to deep playa where the desert just seemed to go on forever until the mountains blazed in the inferno of the sun setting. I lounged on a chaise, happily buzzed, as others snapped photos of a group superheroes. (Did that just happen?) Once the sun was down, I realized we were across town with no jackets. Time to leave.

We cut through the city, braving more dust, warming up from the brisk pace. We had the intent of stopping briefly to pick up some horns we had crafted earlier in the day at “Horney Camp”. My new friend Josh was there and he convinced us to stay a bit longer to try a flight of Spiced Tequila. He then told us of his latest: “A Super-Duper Serious Photo Essay” (they were pranking White Trash Superstars, a rival camp).

Basically they had decorated the rival’s camp with photographs of male genitals. He pointed out that the “exhibition” was even listed in the “What, Where, When” book distributed at Burning Man. “KUDOS, Obi Wan,” I thought, “Much to learn, I have from this one....” Members of Josh’s camp were just finishing

Both pages: “The Family Jewels”, by Todd Cooper and Associates, Photo: Chrstina Marie

up the handiwork and reporting back. We decided to leave for “home” and I promised his camp we’d return for more shenanigans later. We had a Michael Jackson themed party to throw that night and the temperature was dropping fast.

And that’s when it happened.

When we got back, Jack began packing. “What are you doing?” I asked.

“I’m leaving.” He said, “I’m done.” I couldn’t believe it. It didn’t compute. I must have missed something.

A four-year veteran was taking off mid-week just as Burning Man was getting into “full swing”. I tried to get to the heart of the matter, but there was no consoling him this time. Others attempted to reason with him, but he left in a wake of fury... with the cameras and passes... with a vehicle that was necessary for camp-mates’ items and me to get home... with his commitment to the camp broken.

I just got left at Burning Man, in the middle of the desert.

YEP. Apparently it happens more often than one would care to imagine. As I said earlier, this event can test relationships, forge new ones, and bring out the

best or worst in a person. This year seemed particularly rough on many people as evidenced in blogs and facebook posts. Many blamed dehydration, the winds, and the theme: Carnival of Mirrors. Some people had a hard time looking at who they really are. Others basked in their reflection. At the time, I chalked it up to being an eventuality from day one. The better person in me would like to believe that Jack was just holding on for Yuri’s party. The Playa had just kicked his ass for the last time.

The good news was I didn’t have any time to ponder the sudden ejection- we needed all hands on deck to prepare the bar for the Michael Jackson party. Thursday evening also brought one of my best girlfriends to BRC. I was easily swept up in the hustle-bustle. I was truly grateful for how supportive the camp was. In the chaos of prepping the bar they still had time to offer me food, shelter, rides, and more. I assured them I was fine, we would all get through this, and that I had a backup plan. While camp-mates were curious about what caused such a thing, we didn’t discuss it much.

They didn’t place blame, take sides, or try and figure out what happened. The MJ Party went well and I really enjoyed seeing how resilient our camp was.

Then Friday morning came and I realized: Jack didn’t just leave me, he left us all. He may have been my

ride, but he was also the producer on a project that the camp depended on and a camp-mate. I went to Lisa, one of our camp leaders and informed her I would get new passes, cameras, and do whatever it took to get them the footage/video promised by Jack. I may not have been at the helm before, but I was now. She agreed and we devised a plan: The Playa would provide!

We spent Friday rounding up resources, tagging new cameras, and I reconnected with Craig at the Duck Pond. “I’m going to need to execute that back-up plan.” I said.

“There’s still room in my truck.” He said, smiling. I ended up staying for dinner there and enjoying the great surprise DJ Sets that they hosted.

Saturday was a blur. I was at Center Camp early attending the safety meeting for media even though I didn’t have a “Great Circle Access” (inner ring) pass yet. It was imperative to get one as that was where the fire conclave was performing and I didn’t have a telephoto lens. I went with Lisa to beg for the new pass.

They had already heard of our plight and had crossed off my name and Jack’s. They don’t take leaving Burning Man the way he did lightly. But when I demon-

strated that we secured new cameras and new tags/ media passes, they smiled and granted me the Great Circle Access pass. I just grabbed them in a heartfelt hug and fought back the tears of joy.

After that, the rest of the day felt as if gravity was failing slightly. We seemed to walk taller and smile bigger.

I was able to visit the Temple again, this time with my girlfriend. While the experience was still overwhelming, I found a sense of profound power and strength in the structure that wasn’t there before.

I finally got to see deep playa art installations via the Flaming Ho and spent quality time with my campmates. We all knew it was a special day. How many can say, “I performed at Burning Man,” or “I was allowed inside the Great Circle with a camera”. We were about to do BOTH. If live performance is Fame and film means Immortality, we were about to have both in the same moment.

What I shot that evening was limited due to logistical constraints: the lack of a second cameraman, only one shot to get it right, a shortage of exposure controls, DUST, and whatnot (at least the winds stayed down during the performance and burn). However, the footage from that night will always remind me of the mag-

“Hands” at 7:30 and Geek Art Plaza Artist Unknown Photo by Kelsey Kirkpatrick

“Hands” at 7:30 and Geek Art Plaza Artist Unknown Photo by Kelsey Kirkpatrick

ic, the kindness, and the talent of the fire conclave that doubled as my camp-mates. Perhaps I will bring my “good gear” out next year (or rent great gear).

Watching the Man burn from the inner portion of The Great Circle was interesting, but dangerous.

Debris from the fireworks showered down around us and the heat from multiple explosions resulted in a flash burn on my face and any other parts of my body that weren’t covered.

The ride back to camp was a little solemn for me. It was amazing to see the faces of the performers still riding the high of spinning fire at BRC, making their plans for which camps to hit that night. Burn Night is one of the craziest party nights, but I had to pack and hit the sack. My ride was leaving in the morning come hell or high water, and If I wasn’t ready, I might get left at Burning Man twice...and that would be unprecedented.

I arose early Sunday and finished packing knowing my new ride would be there soon. My camp mates (that were awake) were quick to assist and when the truck arrived, it was loaded within minutes. Was I really leaving? I had enough food, water, and will to stay another full week. As much as I wanted to see the Temple burn, I had little choice in the matter.

Sometimes, the playa inserts chaos into your plan. I hugged those that were awake, and wished the others well. We would see each other again soon.

Then we began the 5mph march down the road and out the gate. Many people chose to leave on Sunday morning. Maybe it was the harsh camping conditions, maybe they were just beating the mass exodus.

We said little of substance to each other- each preoccupied with their own thoughts, but then Craig and I went from quiet, humbled, campers, to expectant children as soon as we hit “real pavement”.

“Did I mention that you get to take a shower at Peppermill in Reno?” There was that elfish grin again.

“What??” OMG that sounded MIRACULOUS. “Oh yeah, and I’m taking like, four showers.”

“I’ll just go jump in the pool,” I teased, “Do you think they will notice the Playa cloud my braids leave behind?”

“Whatever, you dirty hippie. Hey, how’s it feel to be a Burner?”

That’s right. I was now “A Burner”. I grinned from ear to ear.

The Peppermill was very hospitable. In fact I was shocked at how well they treated us from the get go.

“Dude, you should totally valet park! I would pay real money to see the look on their faces as the Burners in the Clampet-mobile arrive!” The snob in me giggled as my previous experiences at the Peppermill had involved limousines or high-grade automobiles. I was positive they would wave us through, completely disgusted. The dusty pickup truck was piled high with camping gear, coolers, Aquatainers, topped off with two ridiculous bikes strapped down with ratchets and bungees. I braced myself for the local “Anti Burner Sentiment”, but it turns out the Valet was the best route! There was no look of disgust, no laughing, and no flinching.

“Shall I hold the vehicle here so I can keep an eye on it until you are settled?” We looked dumbfounded at each other. “Just in case you forgot something you wanted in your room?” He asked politely.

“Yes, please,” Craig said. “If you don’t mind this eye sore in front of the hotel.”

“It’s no trouble at all, Sir.” HOLY MOLY. We just went from zero star to five star.

This was not the Peppermill’s first Burning Man.

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The flashing lights and cacophony of melodious tunes filled the casino, creating a gentle transition back into the “default” world, but I noticed one massive difference. The heart was gone. Strangers hardly gave us a glance. The bartender spent his obligatory one minute with us, then moved on, later sending a cocktail waitress in his stead. I instantly missed the connections to human beings.

If you would like to stay in touch, please find me on Facebook. I’d love to discuss engineering and art for the Playa anytime!

Craig noticed it too and suggested we try the bar by the pool.

We ran into other Burners there, and that seemed to soften the blow of reality. The barkeeps were more receptive there too- the pool area was more casual, more communal.

The pit stop at Peppermill was topped off with Mad Max Fury Road on Pay-per-view. I made it 20 minutes into the movie before drifting off.

It may not have been what was planned, but the Playa had sent me a parting gift: the drive home engaging in a cathartic chat with my dear old friend who has been there for me over many years.

I have my parents 50% convinced to attend next year and I hope that they will join me on my next “Bike Beast”, a quad bike that seats four. Perhaps I will see you on the Playa and you can be our “fourth rider.”

Before and After:

In Part One: The Virgin Burns, I was reserving judgment on a few things as I had no idea what to expect. My questions were mainly focused on the 10 Principles. (See Article here). Now that I have ACTUALLY BEEN there, I can say my gut instincts were pretty good.

1. Radical Inclusion:

For the most part I felt very included and did my best to include others. The best way to describe this feeling is: imagine a place that accepts you the way you are and LOVES that you are different.

2. Gifting:

There was much gifting of food and alcohol. I gifted quite a bit of food and water. I was unable to gift body painting as I had planned due to the dust storms and other logistics, but I did hand out a ton of glow gear as I found many people not lit up in the night.

Life was good.

3. Decommodification:

The only “commercial” thing I saw on Playa was a TedX Talk. I am still conflicted on this, but I felt is was a good brand fit anyway.

The Aftermath: Since Burning Man, I have finished the video for Surreal Fire Conclave and have continued to stay in touch with my camp-mates and new friends I met all over the world; I have begun the long process of grant writing to get my Art Installation, The #DYSPHORIA Project, into full swing for Burning Man 2016; and I dream of

4. Radical Self Reliance:

I think it is safe to say, I was radically self reliant. I could have stayed another week-easily with how I was outfitted. I DID notice how some veterans weren’t as into this one-in fact they were happy to have others fill in the gaps for them.

5. Radical Self Expression:

“Dream” by Jeff Schomberg, Photo: Christina Marie

what may come at Black Rock City.

Next page: Art Car by Timothy Ingalls “Forest House” Photo: CM

Later, as we sipped cosmos at the bar in front of a glorious fire pit, we mused at how luxurious showers, real toilets, clean towels, and even dust-free drinks were.

We could look each other in the eye and actually SEE facial expressions instead of guess what was happening under the goggles and bandanas.

I would have liked to see more of this, but I think the dust this year curbed some of the enthusiasm.

6. Communal Effort:

I felt the overall experience was very communal. I was happy to participate in this and found many ways to contribute to my community.

7. Civic Responsibility:

One of the most beautiful things I saw was a community looking after its own. We all kept an eye on each other and did our best to keep things going in the right direction. Even though the motto of “Safety Third!” rules most camps, I found it to be quite safe (if you weren’t a complete knucklehead).

8. Leave No Trace:

In all communities, there is always someone who will think the rules don’t apply to them. I spent extra time looking out for MOOP (Matter Out Of Place) and collecting trash that blew my way. Even though I did this, I still only generated HALF of ONE trash bag of waste. My meal waste was usually an empty zip-lock bag and small amount of foil. I had very little gray water, which evaporated daily, and my wet wipes weren’t really used once I discovered my

washcloths dipped in water and vinegar were far more effective.

9. Participation:

I took this one seriously. I had a great time being “part of the show” and hosting at our bar. Having an Art bike kept me engaged and I wished that some folks had put in a little more effort into their bikes. I saw a lot of undecorated, unlit bikes out there. The “Schwingo” was a GREAT ice breaker.

10. Immediacy:

“Immediate experience is, in many ways, the most important touchstone of value in our culture. We seek to overcome barriers that stand between us and a recognition of our inner selves, the reality of those around us, participation in society, and contact with a natural world exceeding human powers. No idea can substitute for this experience.”

Ah...the most confusing one of all. I will not pretend to know what this means, but for me, I felt that I experienced much of this. I listened to my gut, relied on my own strength, broke down barriers between my inner self and those around me, and stayed in the moment. I did feel there were supernatural moments, but mostly in a sense of “tapping into something new.”

Was it transformative? In some ways yes, but for me, Burning Man was a great reinforcement of what I already am. See you next year! ~cm

A state of unease

This is the CONTROVERSIAL IMAGE

that started it all.

Craig Fouts, celebrated photographer and master editor, made a bold decision in posing nude in order to empathize more with the subjects he shoots.

The story begins when he posted this image on Facebook, baring his soul to his “Friends�. The un-edited excerpt on the next page contains just a few statements made.

dys·pho·ri·a

Psychiatry noun: dysphoria a state of unease or generalized dissatisfaction with life.

Who has Dysphoria?

Every day we are marketed and advertised to in a fashion that makes us feel lesser about ourselves so that we will buy a product. These products include (but are not limited to)clothing, cosmetics, dietary supplements, prescription drugs, surgery, food, and beverages.

Brands depend on us having a “problem”, so that they can sell us a “solution”.

Quroscuro, CMmedia, and the community partners feel that we are happy just the way we are.

We celebrate our bodies. We defy myths. We stand up for change.

The participants in #DYSPHORIA are Euphoric.

We are ecstatic to have a platform for education on the 3 main genetic body types. We aim to spread awareness on Body Dysphoria and hope to cut off peer pressure and bullying tactics before any more people obtain Body Dysmorphic Disorder (BDD).

BDD sufferers are 49% Male and 51% Female. This affects us all.

Alex: Artist to artist. You need to drink more beer and eat!

David: THAT IS SICK AND NOT RIGHT. The idiot who posted this is obviously fucked up in the head. I’d rather CHUNKY DUNK any time than go skeleton shagging give me something I know I am cuddling Paula Belfon xxxx David: Nina yes you are right you don’t know me so don’t judge me. Like I haven’t judged you thank you. “FREE SPEECH” and all that fajizzle Ellen: I know everyone is entitled to their own opinions but that was harsh and unnecessary.

David: All I’m saying is that skinny female models get slagged off for portraying themselves like that so why is it acceptable for male models to do it?

Darren: David, for a man who immediately called my Business Partner “sick and not right” & name called him for posting this image, you’ve got a lot of nerve claiming we can’t respond to your ignorant commentary. Just as you have the “freedom of speech” Son, so do we...it’s a two way freeway. When people utter stupid sh!t like “you don’t know me, so don’t judge me” it is indicative of one of 3 things: 1. You have no valid argument 2 you are too lazy to argue further or 3 you know you are wrong. Funny how you judged the fuck out of Craig, yet you pull that super- hypocritical statement. As far as Neener is concerned, she is waking up on her beachside estate in Hawaii with a big fat grin on her face, lovin her life. I have a similar taste in women that you do David, I love curves on the female I am with....but I don’t rip those with other tastes.

David: I’m not hiding from the fact what my point is that there is to much of this wafer thin models showing on tv it gives the wrong impression Darren: True, yet Humans aren’t robots, self esteem is a great thing for individuals to have. Most people realize that not all people have the same taste and become happy with the package they’ve got. Craig eats 3 to 5 meals a day. His Dad didn’t “fill out” til age 40, it’s genetic. His metabolism is off the charts. I’m not a fan of waifs (Kate Moss, etc) I am more of a “baby got back, Sir Mix Alot video” variety. Peace.

Noah: Craig Fouts bro you need to eat more habit burger, carls jr, dickys BBQ, etc,etc...you look like an extra on a “Tool” video! Lol Christina Marie: Read through thread again (because it got me going) for those of you judging Craig Fouts, I have this for you: If you think skinny = bad or negative, STOP FUCKING BUYING IT. Turn off your TV, don’t buy the magazines, don’t buy ANY product that uses skinny images to market the product. PERIOD. Then write a letter to the Magazine/Advertiser and simply state I do not and will not purchase anything marketed this way. You can make a difference that way. BUT DON’T rest back on your laurels and judge individuals for simply having a different body type. It’s called being an Ectomorph. GET OVER IT

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