Burning Man 1996 | Community Comments and Collective Stories of 1996
It was my first time.
And after the last minute decisions, the faulty bike racks, the speed traps, the sunstroke, the emergency tows and the playa dust ... I wound up with an experience that I couldn't easily define.
So I left that to you.
See, the point of Burning Man, I'm told, is that there are no observers, only participants. So it didn't make much sense for me to just toss my photos out into the ether for you. That's too passive. The Man would not approve.
So, instead, it was up to you to tell the story. Below are thumbnails of the photos I took. On each page is the collected experiences of the participants of Burning Man 1996.
The posting areas are closed now (as of 8.23.97) because, well, it's been a year and now we have Burning Man 1997 to talk about.
Together we told the story the way it needed to be told. Thank you.
Community Comments
Burning the Man
I was working the perimeter, trying to get people to stand far enough away so a) they wouldn't get scorched b) we could fit 10,000 around the circle. People responded to me - as I walked by (I was wearing white & wings) they would say: "Look Angel, we're holdin' the line" "We're stayin' back Angel" I must have carried 4 or 5 handfuls of personal belongings, letters, or momentos from the crowd to the Man. People kept handing me things "Can you put this under the man? I have to burn it"
We should have lit the hay bales first. The man went up too fast - Kimric's [Kimric Smythe] propane lines broke and the body went up in under 10 seconds. Boggmann [Joe Fenton] dosed the big piles of hay bales with the flame thrower, but we should have lit the little bales first to keep people back. The angels didn't light on time either When the man went down and everyone rushed forward, I looked over and John Law was standing about 10 feet away from me - his face frozen with horror & despair.
I fought my way to the front of the crowd, trying to tell the naked dancing frenzy that they were in danger because there were unexploded charges and fireworks in the man was the worst moment of that night (thank god) the crowd was so dense the people behind were pushing the people in front closer to the fire. There were about 4 rangers in there with me - Little Joe, Joseph, Abs and John [Law]. After about 10 minutes of fighting the crowd, Boggmann got on the radio and said "Any Rangers in the inner circle GET OUT. The crazies will push you in - if they get burned we'll medevac them out later. GET OUT NOW!"
I thought a moment before leaving - as I struggled past the cheering crowd John got on the radio: "Angel this is Jack - do you copy?" "Jack this is Angel - go ahead." "Are you out of there?" "Yes I'm out now" "Good - Jack out" Joseph and Little Joe stayed in and watched the fury die (bad play on words here) down and I walked back to the Ranger tent. I was drained. I felt so empty. Despair. On the way down I ran into the Aggravator machine. It was blowing fire 30 feet in front and it was moving.
Danger. I grabbed one of the rangers and said "I want a 30 foot safety zone in front of this thing" Then I ran up to the guys who made it and yelled "IF I GET ANY INJURIES FROM THIS THING I WILL KILL YOU BOTH!!!" I walked back to ranger camp. Praying the whole way. The message board went up at 12:32. We had a good quiet night - we laughed, we sat around camp and waited for the injuries that never happened. Dawn came and we breathed a sigh of relief. Then we got the call from rave camp.
Angel <satori@sirius.com>
People are frightened. A pall hangs over the playa, fear, malevolence and the spirit of Mike Fury. The undercurrent of malevolence has always been part of the experience, but this time it's different. The danger made me feel more alive, but now I'm scared and I can feel it in the people around me. We bemoan the barricading, afraid to admit to each other that it has become necessary to protect the ignorant hordes from their own stupidity. I don't feel that the man next to me is my brother anymore, he's just some drunk fuck in a polo shirt carrying a camera.
The crowd is more mob than ever, screaming burn, burn, burn....the procession was muted, like sheep being led to a slaughter....they needed to be led, most of them had no initiative of their own. Now I see them milling, purposeless, agitated...many are resplendent in costumes and formal wear: they are the ones with caution and fear in their eyes. They KNOW.
The rest of the crowd, dressed as they would for a brief trip to Wal-Mart, stares vacantly or yells drunkenly...they shove their neighbors and stare at the semi-clad...do they really see what is about to happen? How many of them have SEEN anything this weekend? I pity them. The burn begins, faster and more immediate than ever. Everybody dances, yells, jumps and shouts. The forward crush is unrelenting. How can you insure an event like this?
The Man's arms fall to his sides as if in defeat. He shakes and shudders, as if racked by spiritual pain far more intense than the power of mere mortal flames; and as i look around me i see the dark eyes of the revelers echoing the defeat of the man: every year, he is fated to burn but it seems as if this time, he somehow knows he will not be rebuilt. The energy around me is an odd mix of despair and ecstasy. Now I begin to envy the drunk tourists, they enjoy the spectacle most freely, unfettered by any sense of loss; it is not their community witnessing its own systematic rape, pillage and destruction.
The man quivers as he gives up his ghost, the people holding the guy wires transmitting the sense of hopelessness, of the total and irrevocable destruction of the spirit of the Burning Man. Fighting the lump in my throat, i look around to see people crying...the tall man in the tutu is sobbing, the clowns wear only painted smiles. Defeated, the Man falls for the last time, giving up his brief life to the surging throng that surrounds him. I hang back, as do many others. The despair is palpable, no one speaks but even through the makeup, feathers and costumes, we all know that we have witnessed the final destruction of the Burning Man and all he stood for. Returning to camp we anxiously try to reassure ourselves that it is not over but the Spirit of Mike Fury visits one of our crew in the night, and the sound of the helicopter returning only reinforces the fear, that our beautiful and exotic desert flower has lived out its brief period of glory.
“Burning Breasts, that is what I renamed the gathering. What I am about to write is real, no names were changed. Saturday night, I ventured to the main camp. I started chatting with the cameramen from MTV and other paparazzi Being a fellow Filmmaker, I told them of a shot that I thought must be recorded. A monk. A monk with a maniquin’s leg in his mouth. It was on fire He was biting the heal as flames shot up from the thigh. He was a tall monk. It was very surreal. So as I am directing the shot beneath the monk, the cinematographer from MTV and 8 photographers, the leg completely ignites and the burning foot falls and lodges in my bra top. Suddenly, all the cameras are on me, the medics are hosing me down, people are screaming, my friends are rolling on the ground laughing and am trying to brush the toe embers out of my breasts. The medic would spend half the time very serious telling me that I needed to be helicoptered out of there to cure my burns. It was hard to take them seriously as they would break into laughter. Camera’s were flashing, white trash beer belly boys were groping for my breasts asking if they could check the burns as the while, all the cameramen want me to reveal my burns. Absolutely not, as I laughed, oblivious to the pain. As I mentioned, this is all true, I have scars (small) to prove. Truly the funniest thing that has ever happened in my life. ”
lizard man <dalton@isidis.colorado.edu> [Ed Note: Brad "Lizard Man" Dalton]
When's it gonna fall? When's it gonna fall? How far is the nearest sani-hut? Or should I just take an open air playa pee? This is kinda anti-climactic. Wow, I can feel the heat from here. so much smoke! Fall already, big guy, so I can pee. my bladder's like a dixie cup...come on, come on...
trina <caterina@organic.com>
I will never forget watching the man burn.
It wasn't as surprising as Helco or as interactive as the piano thing, but it was beautiful as hell.
Derek M. Powazek <floyd@fray.com> [From Hotwired]{Interview with Derek]
Don't look at the Man, that's not the point. Look at the people and their reactions to him burning. They dance, they strip, they beat drums, they scream. That's what is so amazing.
It's appropriate somehow that the least interesting part is the supposed "main attraction" Burning the man was a chance to relax psychically, withdraw back into myself, come down in preparation to return to the mundane world (If the festival is Tiphareth, and my job is Malkuth, the burning of the man is Yesod) Not to say it was boring - it's far more exciting than just about anything else I ever do - just far less interesting than the rest of the weekend - let's here it for storytelling in the Chai Tea hut! ??pat
I thought it was ironic that during the very event that was intended to unite the Black Rock City residents created pre-burning man bickering as to whether we should all stand or sit for the burn. Up until this point everything had been rather harmonious so far as my experience had been. The actual burning of the man was an awesome sight though so I'm not complaining.
Somewhere deep in the back of my mind, I was concerned about all the Hell references. I don't belive in Heaven or Hell, but I do believe others do. Having never been to the Man, I didn't know what to expect. I arrived Thursday night, and it was awesome. Everybody doing their own thing. Next mornning, I raised my friend from Eugene Oregon over at Camp 52. It was really good to see them again. They got me stoned and I walked back to my camp. I'd never been in the arid desert heat up until this walk back (it was still early and cool when I'd walked over to camp 52). Suddenly I found myslef stoned, and I had a severe case of cotton mouth. Bout that time, the disgruntled postal workers blew through town, but I didn't see them. I only heard them cussing and screaming at everybody. Suddenly, I became paranoid. I was parched, and counldn't think straight. I thought, "is this how it's going to be all weekend? People swearing and being negative for three days in this harsh desert surrounding?" I got back to my lean-to and drank a gallon of water. My buzz wore off, and then I had a blast. I loved the explosions, naked people, high wierdness. It was all great. You become numb to how weird it is. There's no big deal about talking to a naked guy covered in LED's. It takes really wierd stuff to catch the eye, like a sofa moving under it's own power, accompanied by a lamp also moving under it's own power, or a fireball big enought to feel from 100 yards away. A giant gothic carrage complete with rusty saw blades and 50 foot flame thrower. Now, back in LA, I look around at the population at large, and know that I am a freak, and feel good about it. I can't wait to go to Burning Man again.
Dave Lewis <Underyeti@Datadepot.com>
i was surprised that i actually had the urge to storm the man when he was burning, but i did. The entire four days, I loved the rave and the mudpit and riding my bike topless and our shade tarp and the cracked surface of the playa and the pure wide desert sky with silver stars and the people on the motorized couch and the people in tutus and combat boots, and everything, except for the idea of burning the Man. It was the one thing I didn’t like from the very beginning, but as soon as the roast got underway, i was captivated by it, and I don’t say that lightly.
I'm not one of those people who throws around words like spiritual and magical and real as though they were ice cream flavors that you could choose, so please understand that im not making some sappy, contrived, saccharine, sentimental statement. I’m not trying to be profround, I just honestly mean that i was captivated by the burning of the Man, and it surprised me, because I didn’t like the idea at first. I don’t know how it changed my mind, but maybe it was just that there was so much heat and sound and color and motion concentrated in one space, and that kind of kinetic enery just draws you in. Or maybe it was just the first time in the four days that eveyone who had been crawling around on that cracked earth in tutus and eveything else was actually together concentrationg on the same thing. Or maybe because there's no real reason to burn something like that, there's nothing to be gained.
It seems that it was just an enlarged version of the scenario that happens when you're sitting around a table, maybe after dinner, maybe on a porch or a patio, maybe you've had some wine, and you stick the tip of your paper napkin into the flame of the citronella candle, and you love to watch the slippery orange tongues lapping up the stiff fibers of the napkin, and you're disappointed when you actually have to blow the thing out so it won't turn into a disaster at the table, causing alarm and dirty looks. here, with the man, is the situation where you get to watch the whole thing burn, and no one can or wants to blow it out.
You get to see what its like for the orange tongues to turn into roiling, searing waves and spark showers and breezy hot billows, like sails. And instead of a few fibers, its a satisfyingly swaying and rocking giant that crackles and snaps and takes a long, satisfying time to turn to crumbled black chunks. This is the time you get to watch the whole thing, and you're not cut off.
So I tensed up and pulsed and blinked and loved it when I saw it burning, and michelle and i were sitting on a hay bale with our cups of tea at the time, and we started edging forward, on our feet, a little faster and more frantic, and soon were sprinting in towards the column of heat and color and swaying motion and snapping noises, and we got close enough to feel the the hot air on our cheeks and we watched the whole thing burn until it couldnt burn anymore.
katrina hoch <khoch@sirius.com>
We had been waiting "forever" for this experience: since last night, since Thursday, since last time two years ago. Finally it occured, with raucous pomp and ceremony, the minions of the Burning Man spilled forth into the area about the Man, chanting, singing, drumming, dancing, fucking. The Man was burning and everyone knew that this was it, our last chance to do "it", that vague undefinable thing that could only be done on the Playa & is forbidden to us "out there" in the normal world.
Nexist [DAR] <nexist@hevanet.com>
Let's hurry to get front row seats! there are no rows! Perfect! No rows! No little rows! his arms are up? They weren't up before. Were they up like that today? that's go to be $3000 worth of just neon... RAHHHHHHHH! the color changed! why is it we love that? whoa- it's burning already. oh man.. i didn't know. i didn't know it was goping to be so dramatic. big long 10-second chunks of dense drama and beauty. oh i didn't know. i didn't know it was beautiful. i thought is was all sensational and big. i didn't know it was beautiful. AHHHH- the arms are going! they're goingggggg. now he has personality. the bony shoulders are limp. he's not complaining. [why do they keep jiggling the cables? let him go naturally? there is no hurry here. why tug on him? why pester him?] beauty. beauty. chortle. beauty.
This year I sat back and relaxed and watched the man from afar. Not too far. far enough not to get run over by any other freaks. I sat next to a girl that had stumbled into our camp the night before. With a name tag we had given her a new name. It was Elma. She had a gold fish in a jar. We renamed the fish Marcia. The fish lived through 3 days in the desert in a jelly jar. Amazing.
a <bitch@floozy.com>
Burning Man was a phenomenal experience! The actual Burn couldn't hold a candle :) to the 5 day life enhancing experience of the Playa and the people. I threw a bag of shredded play money into the wreckage, it felt amazing..I got so close I thought I was going to melt! Burning Man 1997!! My advice-wear more glitter!
Ariana Raedene ------ <Jivashanti@AOL.com>
my award for most altruistic behavior goes to the guys who pulled up to watch the man burn, got on top of their blazer to loudly and proudly announce: "FREEEE BEEEEEEEER!!" hats off 2U.
shawn <shawn@livingbooks.com>
When we joined the outer circle, it was still small. We sat down and slowly more people came and started moving in front of us so we did the same. Pretty soon we were close to the hay bales and workers for the performance kept asking us to move back. Well, suddenly someone rushed forward and everyone else did too until we were past the inner hay bale circle. When the man was lit we could feel the heat. As it got hotter, everyone moved closer into the searing temperature. We had to back away because of the heat then slowly started circling. Before you knew it we all were running around the man until he finally fell! Whew... What an experience!
John Arrasjid <johna@webnexus.com>
"How could they know that he feeds off of their emotions? Or that he will touch all of them at some point in their deluded lives of comfort and security. He saw me, the Burning Man...for the first time in months that I've been following him, he saw me and just smiled...the kind of smile that made me want to rip my eyes out...the kind of smile that said, "come with me...come with me..." --LUXOR's Journals
LUXOR
I thought after HellCo burned The Man would have a tough act to follow. But he was up to the task... He didn't just burn - he BLAZED! He kept burning and burning and BURNING - Brighter than ever. I thought he would keep going forever.... Wow.
... Drove all the way from Baltimore to do the Burn with the EarthBound Medical folks, and was delighted with the small amount of fire- related injuries considering the crowd and what the crowd was getting into. Also had a hELL of a good time...
Ed Lizard Rosen <n3gxh@smart.net>
.....the burn was a beautiful and extraordinary sight to behold, but only one, of very many....
Jo Abbott <abbott@unix.sri.com>
I was not in the right frame of mind for the event. I was just not really into mass quantities of people and I just wanted to get away. There were too many beer swigging yahoos screaming pointless obscenities for my tastes. At another time I might have been at least bemused, but not that night. I squatted on the playa and watched the ring of people press forward trying to get a closer look at the man before he was ignited. Each step closer afforded me with a less obstructed view. I brought a flugelhorn with me and played a few quiet jazz ballads to pass the time, but like me, the instrument and music were out of place.
Steve Hawley <hawley@zoom.com>
The flames burned my heart and released my soul.
dyneshia <dmg17329@pegasus.cc.ucf.edu>
The man twitched and shimmied in and out of phase with the rhythms of the climactic tribal drumming, transfixing me with a queasy thrill that was utterly unique.
mRXs <marxaos@wolfenet.com>
Whatever in us that does not burn watches the part that does.
Pat <pathardy@well.com>
"Mike, we're gonna do a turn around the fire and meet you back here." "Okay" "Burn the camera!" I look around and see these guys laughing at ME, because, along with the folks doing the FILMING (of whom they were refering), I too have a little video camera. Settle myself down [these guys are just kidding] I look around again [these guys look REALLY evil] [Man, I wish I wasn't on so many mushrooms, these guys are just like me...I think] "Burn the CDs!" Now, this wouldn't ordinarily freak me out, except, I'm wearing a vest made of CDs... It was time to do a few laps around the fire myself... this was the only night I lost my bearings
Mikey <mkbrooks@popmail.leapnet.com>
Wandering the playa I heard a whine, and then a roar. I turned to see a huge cloud of Playa dust, and watched a black insectoid helicopter rocket from the mess. The sun hit the windshield, then it was gone.
Andrew Schmitt <schmitt@vitesse.com>
Like many others, I found the actual burning a tad anticlimactic, but impressive nevertheless. I was carrying a penant made from a sign I'd picked up off the floor of a firefighter's convention, something I'd saved simply because it was weird. It was an exhibitor's booth sign (comes with the booth), just a cardboard rectangle with the company's name. But this particular company --in a show of fire departments-- was "Firefighters for Christ," some fire dept. in the Arkansaw or somewhere in the deep south. It was while I was packing for Burning Man that I saw it, and said "I will definitely find a use for THAT!" So I had this flag with that sign as the banner on a pole, and at the burning of the man, people were looking at me like I was one of those pseudo-anarchists who were rallying to stop the burning of the man. But I wasn't. I'd seen them driving around the playa with a megaphone earlier in the day yelling "DON'T BURN THE BURNING MAN! DON'T BURN THE BURNING MAN!" My friend and I were recharging under the tarp shade from the previous night's debauchery, and overheard someone yell out "BURN THE DON'T-BURN-THE-BURNING-MAN MAN!" So we stareted yelling, "NO, DON'T BURN THAT DON'T-BURN-THE-BURNING-MAN MAN, MAN!!" After the sucker fried anyway, and all the bonfires were going, I had to turn away from that scene when I saw some guy in a line of fire-leapers NOT clear the fat pile of burning embers in a particular spot, land feet-flat in the bed of coals, fall on his face with his legs in the fire, and LAY there for a few seconds not even trying to get up! People pulled him out, but that was my cue to head on into the other amorphic parts of that memorable (if only I could remember it!) night. But before leaving the scene I decided to get rid of my pennant, and feelilng slightly bummed out by the scene I'd just witnessed, I walked up to the bonfire and threw it on the coals. The sign just SAT there, resting stubbornly on a blazing bed of white hot coals, saying "Firefighters for Christ" and NOT BURNING! It was positively spooky. It hissed, and tossed off steam, it crinkles a little, and began to warp, but it resolutely WOULD NOT BURN! It took me several minutes to realize that the damn thing, altho plain white cardboard, was treated with a fire retardant! But everyone was looking at it as if some higher (or lower) power was at work, refusing to allow this extremely ironic message to be consumed by fire. Ultimately it just sort of shriveled up and disintegrated, but it never did burn.
Chris boy <cyberiad@sfnet.com>
tha burn wuz tha bomb.
phil <cj762@freenet.carleton.ca>
Third timer! Saw the last two years from the front row, Awesome! This year, the man was on a pedestal, so I watched from background, on top of my car. What a difference to be able to see the processions, the crowd and the overall big picture. It was incredible! best one yet!
Rockey <Rockey@hooked.net>
Fire! Fire! Fire!!! Uh...um...huh, huh,huh, Fire!!! Fire!!! Fire!!! Um this sucks! Uh, uh
Mike Mccarthy <mtmccarthy@amherst.edu>
I saw the man- yes, I AM the man. I am the walrus. Burn, walrus, burn! I like pink. It looks good on me. And split-crotch panties. They burn well.
Jimmy Letson <klax@aol.com>
The searing of the burning man spectrums the glaze of the frozen man. Touch Buk drowning in the flame ignite/freeze dry touch Buk burning in the water. To prefer to burn or not to burn to prefer to freeze or not to freeze this is the melting in the freezer of love. Plug into that bonfire, baby and cystalize the man you human condition, you. Wonder where a burning woman glows shivers when you need one. Copyright Feb. 26, 1997, 11:13 a.m. by Frank Schier
Frank Schier <mail@trrt.com>
My lovely spouse
ross <rossa@itsa.ucsf.edu>
What I remember most is watching the moom rise in the east out of the ashes of The'Man. As in the mother rising out of the ashes of the father. Dr. Freud, are you out there? BURN BABY, BURN!
john
The dark, the lights, the heat and smoke and sweat and dirt...every detail replays itself when I see pictures of the Man burning; the images begin to sway and shiver again and I remember Burning Man '96, the maiden voyage...the first of many more to come, '97, '99, 2007...Beware the Bubbler! Ariana Raedene & I will be back!
Carrie Lynn <Carrie3777@aol.com>
Back on earth when he thought I fell, Now here I am kicking his soul all over Hell.
DDEUBLEIN <DDeublein>
Looks like the same thing they do every September in Santa Fe, NM--Burning the Zozobra. If you dug, burning the man, you'd really like that. Check it out!
bonkeyhead <landino@mindspring.com>
You can check out the burning of the Zozobra (Old Man Gloom) at www.sfol.com/html.sfol
bonkeyhead <landino@mindspring.com>
Driving in the Desert
I had caravaned down with Vanessa & Janelle. We arrived on the Playa after dark on Tuesday night. We hit the entrance and stopped. There were a bunch of people following us in from Empire and we made everyone get out of their cars - we made a line in the dust and held hands as we stepped over it. "Welcome to the Playa"
About 4 miles down the 12 mile track we saw the van with the flashers on. We were the first ones to arrive on the scene of Burning Man's first fatality. We hadn't even gotten into camp. I had to lead the faithful into camp while Vanessa stayed behind to wait for the police. Cars & drugs & alcohol were not my friends that weekend. I could write volumes.
Angel <satori@sirius.com> [Dark Angel]
I had never seen dust come streaming out of car vents before. I don't think I ever want to see it again.
Derek M. Powazek <floyd@fray.com> {Ed: Derek’s current website]
Windows up, drenching sweat. Windows down, blinding dust. And then the intermittent moments when nothing could be seen at all, when the screen went blank and we were face to face with the void til sudden clarity revealed another car, swerving to avoid us.
trina <caterina@organic.com>
I couldn't think of a better gateway from this world to that one than driving across the playa in the dust at night not being able to see anything in front of you not knowing what's going to happen but going ahead anyway metaphorical great beginning!
Pat Luther <pat_luther@intersolv.com>
Like flying a plane low, too low into a cloudbank, not knowing when some yay-hoo in a pickup truck is going to jump wakes and come tearing out at you.
I loved driving the playa at night, though, all cool and starless. Powdered fog parted by colored lights.
Oh how the mind spaces on minute data. Oh how quickly it remembers. Franticly rolling up windows & switching the vents to avoid the dust. Driving fast enough to stay in front of your own dust, then breaking as suddenly anothers dust obscures you, able to see nothing, creep along at a snails pace until you break into relatively clear air. Check odometer, has it been far enough? The Camp, The Camp! Now where are our friends.
Nexist [DAR] <nexist@hevanet.com>
It was the dusty boogers I hated. Not the dust itself.
a <bitch@floozy.com>
Other than when we all took the leap of faith drive in... why the Helco was anyone driving around at night ANYWAY???? That's what bikes and feet are for... next year I'm taking the hint and doing what others did this year...make a huge perimeter around camp...so random cruising cars don't squish me 2 feet from my bed or in my bed like what happened at the Rave Camp. I say prohibit night driving with the huge dust clouds and bright headlights. Up with bikes and feet and non-motorized transportation!
Ariana Raedene ------ <Jivashanti@AOL.com>
What struck me about the passage though the unknown is how different it was on each end.
Going in, our excitement and anticipation cancelled out thoughts of danger. The rented RV cut through the sand ridiculously fast, the voices coming from our destination through the CB building us up until finally breaking through! to see Rocky standing in front of Jori's Citroen DS maniacally waving us to the piece of playa that would support us for the next five days.
Going out, driving slow, worrying about the vehicles moving around us, the CB and our voices silent, trying to reconcile the desire for clean sheets with the dread of returning to the silly structure that we've turned the world into.
I want to keep driving.
J.
Vagabond Jim <jim@vagabondage.com>
Because of the high winds they sent us in batches, and while we waited, our car overheated, so we got to drive with the heater on full blast and the windows down!! Couldn't see a thing... Split from our pack when "civilization" was in sight and headed for Tinseltown but miscalculated and ended up at the piano thing, which was an INCREDIBLE first thing to come across at our very first, (and as rumor has it, probably our last) BURNING MAN!
Dust, dust everywhere... two choices: roll the windows up and bake in the car, able to breath... or roll the windows down and coat every surface of anything inside your car with alkali dust, and stay about thirty degrees cooler. And you think Tule Fog limits forward visibility - at least there you can look usually still look down and see lines in the pavement; here, the GPS really paid for itself...
Russell Van Tassell <russell@coasters.net>
The Monday morning dash off the playa created the planet's largest man-made dust cloud. I climbed South Donnelly Peak (the nearest mountain to the west) for one last look at Black Rock City and by the time I had reached the summit 3,000 feet above the desert hundreds of departing cars had created a mass of dust slowly drifting to the south-southwest. It was 200 to 1,000 feet deep, fifteen miles wide, and by the time it disappeared around the farthest visible mountain range, at least 75 miles long. It was a credit to the folks at Techno Ghetto that even on that mountain top seven miles from their speakers, I still had music to accompany the spectacle. Two hours later, driving away myself, the cloud had completely dissipated. After five days on the playa I wasn't sure I could face that much dust again even a year from now, but by the time I got home the smell of playa dust already made me nostalgic. A tool bucket dumped on the shop floor left a pile of dust from my tent stakes, and a month later I can't bring myself to sweep it up. I think I'll go rub some in my nose now....
Tom Ness <newtribe@cdsnet.net>
Dussst: grey-beige and tiny-tiny. The overhead sun pixelated in speckled chockage. Below, the race took place; and so, the stuff split my driven face.
"Gonna beat that caravan man," muffled the blond in the bleached seat of the Nipperwagen.
Meanwhile, the caravan man engaged the plan. His head span round-n'-round; the cacti clan made no detectible sound, 'cept for its festering mezcal making itself underground.
Off they sped, unled, getting the lead out.
Two metal pods, like dried, grimey sperm, undulating themselves through the Saharoid void.
Anthony Martin <2105259@mcimail.com>
We want to get back to nature so we drive right over it We want the multilane superhighway but we want to keep the grass We want to become one with the planet but it doesn't suit our society. We cry for the enviornment We shit in the rivers It's the shortcut
Brian Marranzini <happyhse@erols.com>
braindust you need a mental floss couse your head is full of shit
dool <sikko_gerkema@yr.com>
Going in: an exercise in faith, cruising slowly in darkness and peering at a compass, watching odometer as vast emptiness loomed around us... rolled up to Lost Vegas as the sun rose. Leaving: a test of nerves, driving with little/no visibility in the thickest dust cloud imaginable, lights on, watching the compass, watching for other cars, fingers crossed, glad we had water & food left and a CB *just in case*. In camp? Never. You'd have been insane to drive there...
Pat <pathardy@well.com>
There were some serious holes in my car, so windows up or down, it was still fully dusty. When I got home I diligently cleaned all the dust out of the car. It took hours.
The weather had cooled off in Reno for a week or two after we got back. One day the temperature went back up again. My friend flicked on the air conditioner, and clouds of playa dust poured forth. We shrieked and hugged, grateful for the opportunity to relive life on the playa.
fiona <fiona@unr.edu>
One of the few downers of the week was when I came across a stranded 12 passenger van on the way out. After offering to drive one of the crew from it out, I realized that nobody (including the people driving LARGE TOW CAPABLE TRUCKS) was going to stop. As a result, I wound up towing the megavan out of the playa with my dinky little Jetta (already towing a U-haul). It really saddened me that the spirit of helpfulness seemed to leave with the man.
Dog Boy NW <none@right.now>
First, Sean put the truck in cruise control, and sat on the doorframe. Then he got on the roof, then Rich got on the roof, Then Joel got on the roof. Nobody was driving, evrybody was surfing.
Mikey <mkbrooks@popmail.leapnet.com>
Went the last three years, this year left Thurs. morning from Bay Area. Good move, no cops, no traffic. stay out of dust from cars ahead, use compass for correct bearings to camp. If you have to follow someone, set your vent controls to recirculate and close the windows.
Last year, my friend pointed the pickup towards black mountain, but a tool box on the gas, jumped in the back, had a party for forty minutes before he had to reach in and steer us back. what a sight,driverless truck with a load of revelers!
Rockey <Rockey@hooked.net>
After
-getting all of our last-minute survival provisions together,
-driving all night in three cars from San Francisco,
-stopping several times along the way to argue whether we would spend the night in Reno or push on,
-having to wait an interminable 10 minutes while one of the cars in our caravan got searched by Nevada troopers,
-going on nothing but fumes from Reno to Gerlach,
landing on the playa and taking the 1,000-lane freeway to Black Rock City was nothing short of the most exhilarating experience of my life.
i was supposed to go and find myself in the desert with a cocktail of hallucinogenic assistance. but a few days before i was supposed to leave, i realized that i hadn't done any of the preparaations, and that a project due labor day wasn't half done. these were serious problems. i cancelled my plane tickets and spent the 4 day weekend in an abandoned san fransisco, blasting my music and pretending that i owned the company.
i loved my work, then. i didn't sleep. i didn't see any of you again for months.
- sascha
Driving in the desert was a beautiful experience for me. The setting sun's rays turned the cliffs on the side of the highway into an explosion of color -- red and orange mostly, so vivid. And the sky was such a startling blue. I thought it was the most beautiful place I'd ever seen, so I moved there a few years later.
We ( The LEGO crew and the BLACKSMITH shop ) drove in on Monday. While speeding over the playa, we noticed a little car paralleling our truck and dragging two bicycles behind it. We watched the bicycles bounce themselves to death while we desperately tried to get the drivers attention. he was too focused.
I walked out to rave camp at midnight one night, and my flashlight gave out. Zillions of cars zipped pass and I knew I would die that night hidden in the dark and the dust.
Richard Wright <rwright@pcsedu.com>
Driving at night while shrooming in a new mini-van with its digital dashboard made me and my passengers feel as if we were taking off into space. The total vastness of the domed sky above dotted with stars only helped to solidify our perceptions of traveling to a parallel universe. The rave camp's green neon lasers shot through the darkness and provided us with a lighthouse to the unknown. My individual mind blew its lid off and became one with the OVERMIND.
I believe that understanding the powers at play during the Burning Man is the key to the ARCHIAC REVIVAL!
Old Man <jclemens@eden.rutgers.edu>
Departed Monday 8:00am. 9:30am trouble ensues, blown radiator hose. We nurse the car into Reno with duct tape, patience and a lot of water. Thankfully Kragen has the hose we need. I in my infinite wisdom decide to put in a tube of stop leak, being worried that the water pump may seize from having run dry to many times that day. All the stop leak does for us, we are soon to realize, is clog 75% of my radiator. What took us six and a half hours to drive to ends up taking us twenty four hours to return from. All this because I started a new position at work the following day and couldn't afford not to be there. I sat in my new seat at 8:00am, dazed and waiting to tackle my new responsiblities.
Scott <vanaspati@aol>
Who's Performing
One of the things that I really enjoyed about Burning Man was that it was never clear who was performing for whom.
Derek M. Powazek <floyd@fray.com>
dangling things were everywhere, dangling, bobbing bouncing things, grapelike, plumlike, peachlike floppy gentle fruitlike things
trina <caterina@organic.com>
I loved how those who thought they were "spectators" were actually entertainment for the "performers".
Nexist [DAR] <nexist@hevanet.com>
Serpent creature... I have a nighttime photo of you at the Mudhenge burn. The black/red paint cracked and weathered from the desert rollicking. Who are you? Would you like for me to send you a print?
trip allen <trip.allen@nike.com>
Didn't we all perform? Wasn't this the longest biggest wildest piece of Performance Art ever? Burning Man was the best... notice the past tense. 1999, see you then.
Angel
FIRST DAY: I am spray painting little monsters onto the PLAYA, and a woman asks me if I want to be painted. "Of course, I thought no one would ever ask!"
Continue painting, and LIZARD MAN begs me not to, because it'll wreak the desert floor. [we experimented and discovered it brushed right up]
AFTER THAT: Danger Twenty Foot Man, annoying or funny? FUNNY.
AFTER THAT: Punk band two doors down, annoying or the most weirdest serious buncha freaks making (music?) I ever watched. (one singer was the one who came over and painted us). They played Auto hoods, Tibetian horn-things, electric guitars, and Trunks in all seriousness.
REALLY LIKED: That one dude I came across, who beat a stuffed seal to a "bloody" pulp. He looked more like a University professor than anyone else there, but he had a lot going on inside his head, besides, say lectures on Milton.
I STILL WANT TO: play another room full of pianos.
Mike <mkbrooks@popmail.leapnet.com>
This year, you were what you wore. I tripped on peoples reactions to me by wearing something totally different each day and experiencing the results in peoples attitudes.
rockey <rockey@hooked.net>
When i perform i do not know who i am.
filo <filobedo@bonejangler.om>
So I have seen the apocalypse and it isn't that bad. A little dry, a little dusty, but pretty friendly overall.
Ed Flynn <Flynned@fcb.com>
My old friend Gene and I where land sailing the dry lake bed and we come across this group of people setting up a large camp called Burning Man. This was the week before Burning Man and these people where the set up group about a 100 souls. WE had a great time that day and Gene and I will be at Burning Man 1997 . See Ya Gary +Gene +All
Gary <ghailey1@pacbell.net>
The Piano Thing
[Ed: Piano Bell by Steve Heck]
This was BigRig Industries favorite piece at BM. Unpretentious and beautiful.
Rusty Blazenhoff <rusty@sirius.com>
When they burned the pianos Vanessa would get on the radio "You gotta come up here and see this" ...5 minutes later..."you really should come check this out it's so cool!".... I couldn't look at another fire to save my life - I told her "Vanessa, you have some fun for once...I can't see anymore flames"
When they burned the House of Doors, Joseph and I were sitting in the ranger tent trying to avoid the world and some people ran up and tried to get us to go and watch. We looked at each other and at the same moment said "Oh boy. Another bonfire."
Angel <satori@sirius.com>
This thing was probably my favorite piece at Burning Man. Eighty pianos with strings exposed and a tub of sticks to bang with.
The amazing thing was that, as you walked through the thing, the soundscape would change. People would get in sync with each other and then fall back into chaos again. It was strangely beautiful.
Of course, it was also fun to bang on....
Derek M. Powazek <floyd@fray.com>
The structure by itself was surreal enough in the desert at midnight, but a dimension of sound was also present. What at first sounded like an annoying racket became upon closer consideration a strange melange of percussion and ephemeral notes on high strings, a blended, bittersweet cacophony like the sound of spider webs and ocean breakers and clockworks, like a Disneyland exhibit transplanted to the underworld. This chaotic music was produced by a dozen or so people beating the walls with sticks, some striking the soundboard, others the strings, some playing eerie tunes, others beating primitive rhythms. One man who certainly appeared to be drugged was whacking intently on an outer wall with a marked lack of control. We went inside and found a small bar, unattended, over which stood a Cinzano umbrella, and more people making strange music, some of them perched up in nooks in the walls. I picked up a splintered piece of action and tapped out a melody on some high strings (the lower notes were broken and hanging uselessly into space), and I was reminded of a dulcimer, except that the dulcimer was part of a larger organism with a whole team of players not unlike a dulcimer orchestra at the zoo, a room full of monkeys flailing at dulcimers, in pursuit of a Mozart requiem for pianos.
On my way to Vegas for a sex show, our crew got lost in the desert. My partners and I plus 4 porn stars did a adlib porn movie in the burning man scene. We were in and out so hardly anyone saw us. It was great. -More fun than my millions. -Seth
Seth Warshavsky <sethw@ieg.com> {Ed: wikipedia page; Seth Warshavsky was on the leading edge of selling porn on the web, and gained infamy for his release of the Pamela Anderson sex tape]
I was wondering why there weren't 88 pianos... and i was sad to not see it burn. Though those fires on the horizon looked gorgeous.
squishy <squishy@construct.net>
I got rid of all my piano lesson angst from childhood. I'm free of it!!!
i heard there were 88 pianos.
i saw it burn early monday morning...
jezuzwas it ever hot!
Someone actually got interactive with me there. "Yah! that sounds good! do it again! let me play there too!" And they did. And we did.
a <bitch@floozy.com>
yea, tho I walk thru the valley of pianos, I fear no music
Claire Forgione
We arrived early Wednesday morning and saw this strange, dark mass off in the distance. Visited it later in the day and found piano camp in progress. Fell in love with it. We visited it every day, drinking beer in its shade and checking on its progress. Beating on it Sunday night, wearing formal attire with a drink in one hand and a graciously supplied drumstick in the other was one of the most amazing times of my life. Steve Heck is genius.
Marz <ranger52@gladstone.uoregon.edu>
This was one of the most amazing things I've seen a human assemble.
I wandered around it slowly, taking it all in, focusing on different players and then pulling out to take in the whole picture, the whole sound, the whole energy of eighty pianos and dozens of bodies.
Then I found my instrument. I pulled a black key (C sharp) from one of the keyboards. Dragging it across the closest set of strings produced the most amazing sound I've ever heard. I stopped, startled. The people around me paused briefly as well, looking at me. At the end of the key's shaft was a large metal nail, that somehow amplified everything. I looked at it for a moment longer and lost myself among the pianos.
With exception to about a pound of playa dust, that black key (C sharp) is all I took away from Burning Man. It sits on top of my monitor, where I grab it now and again when I get caught up in bullshit.
J.
Vagabond Jim <jim@vagabondage.com>
What's this? I found it deep within the chords that rang. The note that for so long a carried in my head, I now captured in my ear. It, read out for all to hear, went something like this, but not quite. Maybe there's something more on the other side...?
Dan Bachmann <hurricane@eclipse.net>
wow! you're playing my favorite tune. heeee
giggles <hahaha.com>
This experience was much more enlightening than that darn visit to Disneyworld...I'd come back for more!!
Jayce Marshall <mediamus@interlog.com>
Thinking that it was a bonfire for the local football team ,I was hesitant to attend BUT... in finding that it was the cremation of Liberace.... I would not have missed it for anything!
CaptJim <captjim@vsta.com>
The Piano Bell folks were the 1st Burning Man folks I talked to. We were in the Twin City Surplus in Reno and there was this big flatbed full of mysterious wooden items. She said to come on out and have a beer when we got to the playa. Little did I know that those wooden objects were the makings of my soon-to-be favorite Burning Man installation. All those pianos. All those lessons over the years. And, best of all, no grandmother saying not to bang on the piano! FREEDOM AT LAST! My only regret is not staying up for its burning. So, Steve Heck... What's up for NEXT year??? And thank you so much for this year's incredible contribution! Miz Jewelz
Julie Cody <jcody@notes.mdacc.tmc.edu>
I learned to play the piano well in 6 months. This photo reminds me why i wanted to learn. Massive things.
filo <filobedo@bonejangler.com>
I think the only sense the Piano Fortress didn't appeal to is taste. I saw it, heard it (!), and felt it. It genuinely smelled like concentrated piano, and I think I even picked up faint but anxious psychic memories from recitals long ago. But I decided not to lick it.
Sipping on an ice cold Olympia with my buddy Tyler, and sitting on a couch overlooking the whole thing, I really felt that the Piano Bell was the most amazing piece of artistic expression I have ever seen. Maybe every town needs one, right in the center of every playground, and every city park, and anyone who needs to let out a little anger and frustration can grab a stick or whatever, and bang the crap out of a piano and create so much cacophonious chaos that all of their problems just blend in with the manic sounds of a million strings being whacked.
dagoos
I was down on my knee with a bass string wrapped around both fists, sawing like a banshee on a couple of wires till I could feel it in my lowest and highest chakras. Kramping I stumbled to my feet and saw my friend Kathy waving to me to come bang with her and Matt. We slide into a groove almost immediately and I was amazed that I could hear what we were strumming and then other melodies/chaos wafting over the top and through the bell....at the bar, Baby D was standing there with her accordian and she asked the bartender to sing an Irish ditty, he did,in this sweet, angelic voice! We were in nirvana and Baby D kept saying, "This is the most beautiful place on the earth."
Lil Weeny Kween <kitschme@zzz.com>
yes, i had many many very cool sound experiences at Burning Man.
fell in love twice here, don't fully know why.
DID ANYONE ELSE TAKE PIANO LESSONS AS A KID? mine were'nt anything like this.
mk brooks at leap <mkbrooks@popmail.leapnet.com>
- LATE NIGHT DESERT RADIO -
I was standing outside of the structure on sunday. I was not making any fast movements. I was about 6 6 feet away from this PIANO FORTRESS, but I was on this fast and crazy ride - wip'en thru tunnels - fly'en around turns - I was go'en and feel'en the ssssppppeeedddd of SOUND!!!. To top it all off, Some grooooovvveeey - hhhaaazzzeeeyy fairy look'en chick-ade chick was floating and swirling all around
----This is how I saw it-----
Jay <JasonDCo@hotmail.com>
My favorite thing there. I remember banging away and getting a beat down when I noticed a very serious naked chick was taping my performance. It was a surreal experience I'll never forget. I won’t forget her boobs either.
Water Woman
!
Water Woman came to me when I thought why doesn`t anyone have a shower out in the Blackrock? Then it hit me. Make a woman goddess that sprays water, to contrast Burning Man who is of fire. The woman of water is a needed goddess to clean the dried and dusty bodies so they could cleanse the negatives in their body and mind. More importantly to show that there is nothing more inspiring than the freedom to create at the best festival in the world. For those who stayed up till dawn with us to protect WW from the uninvited low ends, I personally would like to thank you for your courage and loyalty. WW stood up to the fire breathing machine and a mob of stoners one of which(we have on video) threw a burning 2x4 that WW blocked from maybe hurting someone. WW also was the last remaining landmark to guide people back to their camps. She was giving many people showers the next day and most importantly symbolized hope as the first art piece not to burn, but to watch over her people. This was a moving event for myself and many others who told me it made them feel good to see WW still standing the next day. Look forward to a docu-drama video in the fall of 97 that will wet your world. We will be casting dancers in the spring and plan a WW festival of our own in the future.
Ray Cirino creator of WW [Ed: website]
I personally collected all of the waterwoman 'run-off sludge' in 55 gal drums. Samples are for sale at our URL. Buzz by sometime!
Chuck Cirino - brother to creator of WW <Cirino@primenet.com>
I did not bathe under the water woman, but I did admire her from afar.
Derek M. Powazek <floyd@fray.com>
The keeper of the Water Woman told us "no, she's the only thing that isn't going to burn." Why? It was all wood, made carefully, but certainly better to burn than disassemble and keep? They were just being lazy. Not building another for next year.
Suddenly a guy walked out of the darkness with a big plastic wastebucket and set it in the bonfire burning in front of her. The keeper of the woman yelled "No! Not plastic!" What a jerk. Sometimes you can burn plastic. Like now. He burned it anyway.
"No, sometimes it's not OK to burn plastic."
I was the guardian of Water Woman... one of many that night. How I had that title thrust upon me by fate is another story entirely. We chose not to burn her that night, not because we were "lazy", but because we wanted for the all people who would be left behind to salvage, clean, and restore the playa to have an oasis in the blistering heat. Some people didn't understand that. Some people didn't care what they burned.
I stayed up all night, talking with the wanderers who came and sat by the fire. Everyone had their own origin, their own destination, their own story to tell.
Just before the sunrise, one of the Burning Man rangers came by and started collecting up the ashes. He complained about the people who were trashing they playa, digging holes, patching out on the mud flats, and, yes, burning plastic. It was supposed to be a zero-impact event, he said. Some people just didn't seem to understand what that meant.
As we all know, Burning Man has now been kicked off the playa for two years for environmental impact. I hope we can find a new home.
So maybe I was being a jerk. But sometimes it's still not OK to burn plastic.
Eric <EricT24402@aol.com>
Well, ok it wasn't the water woman - it was the mudwrestling, but the mudwrestling was really close to the waterwoman. I was sitting in the Smut Shack one day and a woman from Leeds (UK) sat down. She proceeded to tell me many wonderful things about herself - we hit it off and challenged each other to a mudwrestle the next day. When I got to the pit, it was full of naked mudcaked bodies. Oh Joy.
My first impression was that everyone would be rolling around in the muck like orgasmic pigs, but I soon found out it was a one-on-one and that everyone else was going to be watching. Performance anxiety set in but I figured - what the hell - it's Burning Man. Ronnie and I turned our names in for the show down. We were up right after the dykes with the rubber schlongs hanging out of their boxers. How could we follow up such a ballsy show? Gulp. Well we managed to put up a fight that always ended in lots of slipping and sliding and, well, maybe a little squishing and kissing. The judges gave me the first round but Ronnie stold the second two - hey she played dirty - pulled my hair she did. I ended up pinned to the ground by her forearm - then she proceeded to push me into the mud with her foot while she claimed her victory title. So I lost, oh well, I got a free shower out of it. I decided that naked mudwrestling is one hell of a way to meet someone, and I recommend it heartily.
julie petersen <julie@awaken.org>
Julie: Ah yes, a magnificent struggle for victory. (I was in the pit at the time.) Your performance was excellent, and not a hint of stage fright! Yes, the mud pit had to be one of my favorite spots. The dried mud worked great as suntan lotion, although there was some difficulty when it came to MOVING...
Kai <kai@jedi.net> [http://www.kaimantsch.com/}
"There she stood, beautiful and magnficent.... I wanted her kiss as much as she wanted my touch, but neither one of willing to sacrifice our own existence....so she wept and let her tears bless those who would bathe in them and I... well I danced in my own flames and the bathed my pain in the blood of stranges." ---The the charred remains of Burning Man's journals
LUXOR <myky4u@unm.edu>
The mud pit taught me that i really am not as ashamed of my body as i thought i was.
Which is a good thing.
rebecca e <rebecca@cyborganic.net> [Ed: Wikipedia page]
She pissed on me
sandy
She inspired my primitive male power.
bicknese <bicknese@eden.rutgers.edu>
I wish I had been there to get wet on by the waterwoman. Golden showers with clear water is a nice compromise on a common fantasy.
surfer <surfer@radionet.com>
At BM '95, the creator of Water Woman said to me, "I couldn't have dreamed up a better way to have dozens of beautiful women get naked in front of me." Almost a creepy sentiment, but I don't think he meant it that way.
Bill <bill_emmack@mail.gmosf.com>
After watching the glorious inflammatory celebration symbolizing the fall of the technological patriarchy we live in, I was enthralled by the outpouring of emotion and hence the showering by waterwoman. That night she was guarded by a handful of people myself included to protect her from penetration by the destructive yet cleansing element of fire until the time was right for her physical form to be banished.
Allison Froehlich Moore <allisone@best.com>
Camped right next to Mudhenge and Water Woman. One of the most entertaining people watching spots in camp what with the mud pit and showers too. when my feet were aching from walking all over camp, camp would then walk by me.
rockey <rockey@hooked.net>
I felt that she should be right up there next to the BM. They are partners. It was a hot day in '95 when I met her. I was refreshed in her waters just as I am when I make love with my woman. Bill
bill leikam <pprm60a@prodigy.com>
Upon completion, the Angel's were giggling, however jealous of their creation. First Face: "The Waterwoman will protect the city from twisted strands of lightning. Making the world a little less frightning." Second Face: "Yes, so luninous her face and brow, the sight of her blinds me now." First: "Yes, let's leave her be. For she is more beautiful than me." Second Face: "Yes, let's go!" (they stay)
DDeublein <DDeublein@aol.com>
Speed Trapped
This guy was waiting for us in Story County, on the road to the nearest dump to Burning Man.
I'm sure he did a lot of business that day.
Derek M. Powazek <floyd@fray.com>
The sheriff's depts (Pershing, Wausha & Humbolt) were great - even the narc officers were cool. They helped out so much. The NHP...well...they were out to make a buck or two.
Angel
*I* got stopped by that same guy! Why the hell did they make the speed limit 20 right there?
dean moses <moses@hotwired.com>
I know well in my heart that one does not speed in Nevada... especially if one is holding. I did not even need to see that dude.
Of course, when we got there, the dump had just closed. But i saw the same cop, bulling over other Burning Man folks
I *swear* his lights were on before we came around the bend...
On our way up, there was a cop standing in the road, waving cars to the side. We had been going 70 in a 55, as had the other two cars. He went from one to the other giving tickets. He then wished us a good time at BM.
Nexist [DAR] <nexist@hevanet.com>
I remember the paranoia at the beginning of the trip and the almost ritualistic way we went about hiding all of the chemicals we were bringing along.
Nevada's a bad state talk to police officers about the mind-expanding powers of hallucinogens!
J.
Vagabond Jim <jim@vagabondage.com>
Fargin bastidge! Jitney john law, jawwin his jellydonut, java in joint segmented jarvis. Jammy radar bands, transmission in obscure frequencies "beep" and "kraaak" and "click" emitted from my heatseeker. Meeker now. And how. Tix cost, green lost. Twenty? It'll cost ya sixty now, twice that in the round before the hanger. He'll hoosegow you fast, life won't last. Roy Bean's past. Lily Langtry, sees you swing from hang-tree. egg under the pedal. so goes your mettle.
sean <beadhead@webspan.net>
...and I spied that guy, the Burning Man, the Burning Man...and watched as he shot that poor cop...that Burning Man that Burning Man....
LUSTER <mykey4u@unm.edu>
55... 45... 35... 25... 15?!? Ah, the joys of Hwy 447, with towns like "Nixon", "Little Nixon", and more speedtraps than you can shake a donut at. Both on the way in and out, the "convoys" I fell in with kept it right on the limit, much to the frustration of the countless cruisers and cycle cops we passed. And though was in no danger of being ticketed I was still glad I had brought my radar detector - Watching it light up and bleat as we crested each hill or downshifted into Empire made for an awfully amusing way to pass the time. No one I knew got a ticket, but my little detector got more (non false) alerts on those two days than it's probably ever registered anywhere before. Too surreal. I really couldn't stop laughing.
AaronMu <aaronm@dnai.com>
I drove in a most orderly fashion after paying my $160 fine from last year. There's no way they will cancel BM next year -- the state of Nevada is making a fucking fortune off of the speeding tickets!
fiona <fiona@unr.edu>
Gosh, I drove hwy 50 thru mucho minitowns & saw nary a fuzz along the way. Guess my good luck duck worked.
Dog Boy NW <none@right.now>
After reading dire warnings of speed traps, roadblocks, and the like, my fears were unrealized... True, we came from the north. True, we came at 2am... On the whole trip from Seattle, I only recall a few swiney moments...
Otto Increment <tyrell@halcyon.com>
go wednesday or thursday, no traffic, no cops. got a fixit for tailight 2 years ago outside of nixon at 1:00am fri.! $75 for a tailight! If you gotta go on fri. be good, don't break ANY laws no matter how harmless it seems, make sure you can pass a safety inspection.
rockey <rockey@hooked.net>
Here's a hint for next year in case you are worrying about getting caught for speeding. Take the back desert roads! We were doing around 60-80 miles and hour on the gravel desert roads heading from susanville, CA. What a blast! Especially in a rented Ford escort. There was a point when we thought we were lost in the desert after about 1 1/2 hours of driving and seeing nothing. But if you keep your eyese peeled there is a litte green sign pointing to gerlach. Fuul speed ahead.
Ed Flynn <Flynned@FCB.com>
Goddamm...I usually get out of these things since I'm fem. and Ridin' a bike but untill next years burning '...I'm not paying the whole $ I'm proud to say "I'M WANTED IN NEVADA.."
We came down from Idaho over the crappy-ass county road from Winnemucca. There were three VERY large range fires surrounding Winnemucca...the only side open was in the direction of Gerlach. No police...no speed traps...no people altogether. It was frightening. Yes, the back road struggle is the best.
Richard Wright <rwright@pcsedu.com>
We learned our first year, after being pulled over with about 5 other vehicles, Watch that speed limit inside the NV state lines. .
Dave <Kilmore@ix.netcom.com>
Helco on Fire
We were just wandering around on Saturday night when we stumbled upon Helco burning. That dude up there is zipping down a zip line after lighting that building on fire. About a second after this photo was taken, he burst through a neon sign at the bottom of the line. It was breathtaking.
Derek M. Powazek <floyd@fray.com>
After six years, I've said just about all I have to say about Burning Man. Except for this: John Law, you are one incredible mutherfucker, and I appreciate the fire and the humor you've added to my life. (That's John you see flying off the burning tower via zip-line). We'll miss your contributions to this project, but look forward to newer, more dangerous fun to come! Your friend, Bob Gelman
Robert B. Gelman <bg@bgamedia.com>
I was at the ranger tent for most of Saturday night I heard my dad onstage for the shareholders meeting but didn't get see any of it. When they were parading towards the tower I ran into Larry and grabbed his shoulder in a gesture of "dude-nobody better die tonight" His eyes were shining with the light of a major ego trip. We received a report of a girl OD-ing nearby so I headed for Helco tower. I was thrown into a funk of despair by the noise of 7,000 screaming drunk drugged revelers who mistakenly believed that the veil of responsibility had been momentarily lifted off them. I saw John on top of the tower and I had time to think "Jesus Jack, be CAREFUL" and then it burst into flames. We never found the od-ing girl, so I walked back to central camp. Praying the whole way.
Angel <satori@sirius.com>
Tower burning GOOD!
Helco in general....YAWN......
“Helco... bad vibe. Parts of BM had a real sinister edge that made the rednex with shooters right at home. So you think of your own demons and visualize them on the fire, but Helco made me shy away. And not just the ashes in my eyes, a scarf wrapped around my face for the heat; just cos it’s at BM doesn’t mean its all good... This experience sent me spinning... I came back at dawn to check no devils remains rose wasn’t this where someone lost an eye too?”
HELLCO! HELL NO! The most amazing amateur stunt ever to take place in the middle of a desert. This thing put out *A LOT* of heat.
Damien <dotis@mgvgroup.com>
I'm so glad I finally found out it was the Payless shoe store logo...
Crouched to the side of the stage on the inside of the ring beyond the barbed wire, I could feel the tremendous blast of heat when they lit the tower. Then I saw the fire particles blowing into the crowd, while the ritualistic beat of the band took hold. I felt momentary panic, wondered what the hell I was doing here. I looked at the crowd, lit up from the tower, and they were cheering. I turned back to the flaming tower, watching it burn. It was glorious! Afterwards, I found this experience to be my most disturbing memory of Burning Man.
This reminds me of the Burning of Zozobra in Santa Fe each year. Pagan to the point of bringing out fundamentalist protesters. Can you say, "BURN HIM!"
Randy <rsbpc@roadrunner.com>
Valerie Solanas: "I thought I killed him already!" Henry Rollins: "Nothing he did was worthy of burning." Honors English instructor: "If you see a sentence you like, cut it from your essay." I'll take punk over techno on any red night. -- rle
From the Helco Shareholders meeting with Idiot Flesh, on to the Helco strip mall burn, I was in stitches at this madcap theater of the absurd. And what about the Damnation of Tinseltown! How looney tune was that? "LET'S DO LUNCH' again, soon! And the Opera. Wow, it was beyond Broadway! An effectively chilling, beautiful depiction of Hell. Very life affirming. I'm purified by the fires of Helco, having spent not a single dollar since that shall feed the greed machine. Shame on you gate slime who whined about the $40 ticket. It was worth it for the Opera alone.
Trip Allen <trip.allen@nike.com>
The mutation of corporate logos into cryptic epithets deprogrammed some of my subconscious acceptance of the consumer culture's unbiquitous plastic totems of induced desire and mall addiction. I now cannot look at a SUBWAY sign without seeing the Devil's barbed tail, or pass a PAYLESS SHOE SOURCE without feeling affronted by the malevolent pervasiveness of megacorporate come-ons.
mRXs <marxaos@wolfenet.com>
Knew this was going to be the hottest show, got seat up front, devil missed my shoulder by six inches when he landed. The fire was the hottest most horrifying, scariest experience ever! couldn't get away due to crowd, had to endure it sparks raining down. The opera was by far the most interesting and beautiful of the performances, I will never forget it. Tinseltown was high camp at its best.
rockey <rockey@hooked.net>
Did anyone else notice how those beautiful, dangerous flaming embers were carried by the wind *directly* towards The Burning Man? This particularly impressed me because how could anybody plan something as serendipitous? The path of fire in the sky was framed by the moon behind, a visual triangle between the elements. Miraculously, the debris seemed to have missed most of the audience, too.
Tristan Naramore <tnaramore@ikonic.com>
The whole thing is this. The fucking thing was on fire. Everyone was marching around and well. Foucault would have taken acid here if he were alive to experience the whole deal. It is the destruction of solidity. Be that man bike, or anything. The truth of being with out a name.
MC PIG
Loved Ones
I hate to get all 'summer camp' on you, but the best thing about burning man for me was remembering how good it feels to have best friends.
Derek M. Powazek <floyd@fray.com>
I will hold these people to my heart forever. What we experienced together, the work we did, the beauty, the despair, the connections... will last many lifetimes. I would lay down my life for these people and I know they would do the same for me:
John & Vanessa "We are no longer in the Festival business"
Michael Michael "St. Michael of the lost souls"
Boggmann "The adopt a moron program"
Joseph & Mary "The newbies who knew"
Flash & Dana "The arty aunt & crazy uncle of us all"
Harley "Harley, this is Angel do you need back up?"
Chicken & Circus Boy "Who has the keys to the flatbed?"
Abernathy & Fry Cook ""The rosy fingers of dawn..."
Will & Crimson "Keeping cars out of Central Camp"
and all the rest...you know who you are...I love you we did it.
Angel <satori@sirius.com>
Old friends. New friends. Strangers who became friends for fifteen minutes. Strangers who may become friends forever.
trina <caterina@organic.com>
The point of BM is the shared immediatism of it all.
Nexist [DAR] <nexist@hevanet.com>
When I got home.
"hey why did you always disappear?"
There were too many "loved ones" too close by for me.
Strange? Yes. but true.
a <bitch@floozy.com>
It's not easy to hide out there, no meetings or classes or excuses to duck behind. Late Friday night I pedaled off into the darkness, daring myself to hunt down the "loved ones" I never wanted to see again and make a stab at redemption. I tried, later, to find them. I failed.
In my own idiotic idealistic sense, i believed for one small moment that I could've walked into anyone's camp and made a meaningful connection. Could have healed some old wounds and opened up new pathways. Geographic circumstance was reason enough. "Summer camp", indeed, Derek, because i lost it all the minute I stepped back into the city.
I have been waiting to find an interactive web site about BM so I could share...and here you are...so great! Here is my "love" story...it also has a bit to do with mushrooms too..
Well, you all remember the one minute of fame booth, right?I bet there's others who will relate to what I'm about to describe...well...my groovy sistah' and I were cruising around main camp and stumbled ,literally, onto the little gem...and quickly proceeded to cram ourselves in, to check it out...we were a little too 'schroomy to communicate our inner emotions effectively and Carrie thought the walls were breathing so at 50 seconds we bailed... BUT...on my way out of the booth I made eye contact with HIM...who knows where He was from and who cared!! He asked what the box was all about and I told him "hop in and check it out"... ..."Come with me he replied"...and the rest was video tape history.. which is now just a clip on the cyber floor...an absolutely pure and perfect minute....of what you may be asking... a ****KISS**** One absolutely perfect kiss! It made my knees weak...and then the minute ended...I crawled out...waved goodbye...and rode off into the night.
My lips will always yearn for that one...my heart thumps(*) now when I think about it and HIM. I actually saw him standing over the rubble of the Burn late Sunday night..He was beautiful...but nothing HE or I could have said would have compared with that undefiled kiss...I won't forget it. Burning Man was incredible! It was my first year also...I cried(not usual) as I drove off the playa in my RV "The BUBBLER"... It was the release I needed after that intense experience...and I almost can't wait until next year...So until then...all my love...-A
Ariana Raedene <Jivashanti@AOL.com>
The people I connected with out there are forever different to me. Underneath the Man the bullshit is stripped away, the things that matter exposed, magnified, intensified. The confusion and uncertainty wrapped around the most important things in my life melted away out there, unraveled far faster than I was ready for. I'm still reeling....
Right now is all that matters at Burning Man. I've always talked about living in the moment, but never so completely experienced it until I stepped onto the playa. Used emotions reduced to ashes, memories of how I felt about everything that touches me burned away by the omnipotent power of now.
I'm trying to remember, two weeks later, what that meant, how I felt, where I was. It's still there, but it's there like the traces of playa dust still clinging to my purple baja.
It's not enough.
These lines of text have done an inadequate job.
J.
Vagabond Jim <jim@vagabondage.com>
Friends, forgotten friends, love, forgotten love. Smiles, forgotten smiles, words, forgotten words. Life, forgotten life, death, forgotten death. Lines inspired by photograph.
Bjoern Eriksson <nowerik@algonet.se>
I can't quite remember that day, it was a blur of half forgotten faces, unknown lives brought together by fate. You were there with me I seem to recall, but there was someone else too. Who was she? I know we stood there as the light faded and the darkness grew; we knew our time was over. If only I could remember who I am... That guy with the parrot told us we wouldn't want to remember, but I don't believe him, he lies in every word. Maybe I'll find the truth I'm looking for out here, out beyond the lights of civilization, maybe I'll find you, and find my love again... maybe...
Andrew Lewis <alewis@oanet.com>
Somehow i thought that I was going to get laid at bman, but I did not.
That's okay. I had a fabulous time anyway.
Without friends to love and cherish and yell and whine at all the time..what would be the point? The only problem is why are all my friends mothers either manic depressive or schizophrenic.?..gee whiz is that really some STRANGE unseen sign that something is actually wrong with ME ???!! I have had some bizarre fate !! But thats ok I'm OK You're OK I'm dysfunctional Youre dysfunctional and life is a blessing !!
Jayce Marshall <mediamusic.interlog.com>
Being with my sister their in the playa I discovered so much about how you shouldn't accept anything but the most invigorating life.
Joshua <joshua@techno.ca>
Who is loved and who is not can change any minute sometimes you just open your eyes and see the things you never seen before that's not something to be afraid of it just happpens like raindrops disappear in the pool go with the flow dool
dool <sikko_gerkema@yr.com>
Tattooed middle-class parents, driving Chevy Cavaliers. Those two guys wearing Zoot Suits in the height of the noon-day sun were the coolest people there. "Danger Twenty Foot Man." Guy being pulled behind a pickup truck, on a toilet, pants around his ankles, READING, every day @1:30pm. Rave Camp. anytime you want. People, square as can be, brothers and sisiters with people freaked out as can be. ME? somewheres between FreakSquare, wishing it could happen again. I can't play a room full of pianos in Chicago. Wite me Love and Kisses.
Mike Brooks <mkbrooks@popmail.leapnet.com>
So easy to look into a strangers' eyes, and smile. So easy to love someone you've only just met. The realization that *this* is what life should be like. Why can't it always be so ? Walk with me, Beatrice.
jeremy <jeremy@got.net>
I laugh at your attempt to detach yourself from consumer culture. You are just as much of a dupe as the rest of your progenators. Your elevation of the counterculture to mass culture is your down fall. Soon Coke will be sponsoring the event. Just Do It, Burning Man! will be seen from banners. Thanks a lot for popularizing a special and personal event, you self-absorbed techno-phreak.
corporate stooge <greed@CapitalistTool.com.>
I think it is sad that the most soulful personal experiences so many people have only occur when at some kind of event or show that exists to engender those feelings...do we need facilitators and festival organizers to enrich our lives like this? Maybe we do.
andrew <andrew@in-sync.com>
Jeez..., danger-like love reeds in a storm of tears surrounded by the good the bad and the ugly there have been many things in my life that seem to say "yes, im the only thing here" just as many cry the opposite? BM for me is a cat both alive and dead just me and all of my strengths my failings and 10000 not me's completely unaware of this one.
arial
It was my friend Elmo who introduced me to The Man in '95; We brought a few new friends this past year. My first year was completely magic, and I got to know both Elmo and Kristine, whom I had known for years already, better than I ever expected. The connections we made that year have continued to this day. Out there we shared everything -- food, water, experience, dreams, failures, shelter, and showers. This year, I decided to share that feeling with a few more friends. Of course, I made proper introductions with The Man, telling my friends to climb up the hay bail mountain and touch him. At the top, some random person turned to me and said something I could not understand. When I asked, she told me it meant "I recognize your inner light" in a language that I can't remember. What I do remember clearly is what I was feeling at that exact moment; it is a memory snapshot I will take to the grave -- a feeling only close friends can evoke.
Dave <Kilmore@ix.netcom.com>
Burning Man 96 was the end of one era and the beginning of another for me, with friends and lovers. I'm more at home now than ever with my tribe, but I miss my old friends dearly. I'm doing something about it now. The strange and wonderful part is that I met my fiancée at BM 96 in Bianca's Smut Shack. He was an acquaintance who worked 20 feet from me. But it was as if we were meeting for the first time.
Elinor <elinor@idg.com>
Fire Lingam
By far the most exciting event at BM. The dancing, The Chanting, The Primal...
Oh yes. watching the opera rehearsal in the afternoon and thinking (well, um, thinking it was kind of overblown and silly) but then re-finding it later that night, fire licking out of the stacks and pounding drums and the elegant disintegration. helco's fire was more intense, more surprising and satisfying but this one had more grace. sunday morning's crumbled remains were frozen and beautiful against the dry dusty sky.
(hate to admit it, but this photo reminds me of an ad for "six flags"...)
These people were total nuts.
The show started off a night of bizarre hilarity.
I wish I had a castle.
a <bitch@floozy.com>
Enchanting, spectacular and perfectly executed. This will stay with me for a long time.
gary burns <garyb@four11.com>
This was the night that I finally understood what it meant to become a part of another's experience in a very non-mutual way.
rebecca e <rebecca@cyborganic.com>
I came across the castle just before the opera began, as the three hits of LSD slowly maximized the world around me exponentially. About half way in, I had this overwhelming desire to undress and leap into the middle of the madness, and wrench that massive metal box from whoever was carrying it. The opera accessed a primitive part of my brain that I don't completely comprehend.
That trace was somewhat broken when everyone started chanting that line from The Crow. I think if the opera were mine I'd have kept English out of it.
What was with the guy with the dog?
J.
Vagabond Jim <jim@vagabondage.com>
The night before the opera we were galloping across the playa from Lost Vegas to Mudhenge (or somewhere) and we almost stepped right on top of a couple having sex in the shadows of the haybales surrounding the castle! They just looked up at us cowering in fear...
bigfoot
Lyrics from the soundtrack: "AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!" "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" (repeat) ... i paid close attention and figured them out.
shawn <shawn@livingbooks.com>
If you're wondering who the guy was who ran into the middle of the pagan opera, flung off his shirt, tossed it in the fire, and began to mambo violently... His name is Scott Johnson. My question is: Over a thousand people were circled around that flaming castle and only one guy joined in?!? Whats up with that?
El Heffe <jeffm@eccompany.com>
Fire Tonight, Devil's Delight! Fire Tonight, Devil's Delight! Fire Tonight, Devil's Delight!
John Arrasjid <johna@webnexus.com>
...and all along I thought I was supposed to be singing "fire tonight, chicken delight". I'll work on it for next year.
tripped <trip.allen@nike.com>
Three cheers for Flash who fed all the people who helped Pepe build the beast!
Angel
The Towers of Dis were magnificent. I stopped there several times, seeing it in different stages of completion and finding people meditating in different parts of the structure. The Opera was stunning, unparalleled! When I make my first million and want to build a castle, I'll call Pepe.
Pat <pathardy@well.com>
Mine was being in the production, worried to death I would mess up my choreography (not even worried about the physical danger -- folks, we had not done a full dress rehearsal, *ever*, let alone at night with fire and confusion) and doing so. I was one of the insect-headed demons wandering around wondering what to do after I'd become separated from the main group (like at a school field trip) with an enormous sensation of relief. At least it was over. Afterwards I heard lots of people say, without solicitation, that the opera was great and almost had a coronary at the "chicken tonight, drumsticks delight" gag. Truth to tell the performance was almost emotionless for me. I was so, er.... *burnt out* on worry that my biggest response was afterwards. About audience participation, well, the dog was there to keep people away, I think (no explicitly mentioned this). The towers, when they began to burn, might have fallen down outwards and crashed on people, so there was supposed to be a periphery of safety so that if that happened no-one would be roasted. Actually I think in the event people went pretty near the towers anyway and no-one died. Oh, one of the demon heads looked remarkably like Nixon as it burned. (The tongue being the nose.)
Kirtz <bizarro@juno.com>
THANK YOU NOREEN FOR SETTING ME FREE! I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU. SEEYA NEXT YEAR?
ADAM RADL <ZENITHARC@AOL.COM>
Now, I understand.
Mikey <mkbrooks@popmail.leapnet.com>
I mean REALLY.
mikey <mkbrooks@popmail.leapnet.com
For the last three years, the performances based on the fire lingams have been the most moving and disturbing. this year with the opera and the Dante's inferno theme was the best yet. really got me thinking about my soul.
rockey <rockey@hooked.net>
Magical delirious ecstasy. I had been up for at least two days with just a nap or two somewhere on the playa—no drugs besides the natural one the experience was producing in my body. The dancing, drumming, flaming performance was very powerful viewed from the half conscious state of my delirium after 2 ˝ days of life on the playa. The flames shooting up the towers and through the mouths of the goblins while the drums roared and waves of bodies moving are vivid and clear images, that I own and never want to give up. Memories, the only thing one can truly own are the gems of life! More precious than diamonds! Many Thanks to the Man and all the loving helpers!
Paul <Pdejong999@aol.com
Startin' to feel the shrooms....Oh my god this is really sinister...that horrible laughter
I'm getting scared.....wait a minute.
I'm laughing...harder and harder, people around me seem to be getting pulled into this deep dark place, but I'm enjoying this so much I'm Laughing like there's no tommorow!
My friend and I ride off into the desert with the HAHAHAHAHAHAHOHOHOHOHOHEHEHEHAHAHAS" ringing in our ears.
After that- a brief UFO encounter on our way out to the RAVES!
Ah,now that's livin'
By far the most exciting time at the man. A MUST SEE for one and all. Wild and fun and did you see that guy run in and throw his shirt into the fire and then danced around a bit before running back into the crowd..... FUN STUFF !!!