I finally got the opportunity to go to the 2012 Burning Man Experience, returning home early September 4th, fairly exhausted, but fulfilled in so many unexpected ways.

I had heard about the festival way back in 1989 when they were holding it on a Santa Cruz, California, beach. After a few years there, the crowds became so large, the festival was forced to find another location. Why they decided to choose the flat, dust bowl of the Nevada desert I could never figure out--that is, until I actually went there.

The Burning Man event is a small sideshow within the larger creation of what is called "Black Rock City." BRC is the city created by 60,000 or so "burners" who transform the 6 square miles of desert into the biggest, most outrageous and culturally extravagant art show in the world. And by setting all this up in one of the most hostile, lifeless places in the world, it somehow amplifies the art--like placing a masterpiece painting on a blank wall so as not to distract from it.

Yes, it's dirty--incredibly dusty, with highly alkaline desert dust that is finer than baby powder and gets into every crack and crevice (including your body). You breathe it, you eat it--you can't avoid it. It is a total immersion into Mother Earth, and soon you are riding your bike across the playa realizing you feel wild, but completely at home; half-crazed with energy, yet totally fascinated and enamored with life. The land does this to you, but the human creation of BRC takes it to galactic proportions.

"Art Cars"--huge moving structures on wheels--like giant parade floats, glide up and down the streets of Black Rock City, amped up with bass-heavy concert-level sound systems and hundreds of revelers bumpin' and celebratin' like no party anywhere. Bikes are the main mode of transport, and it is all BRC citizens' responsibility to make art with the bike--especially at night, where glowing light strands (L-wire) adorn both bikes and riders, as well as all shapes and sizes of bizarre and comic creations. For two nights I just sat at the RV camp at night watching the parade. I laughed, I cried, I was stupified.

I suppose Burning Man is not for everyone, but there is a particular segment of earth's human culture that calls Black Rock City their home every year. Now I am one of them.

In vibrant health,