Burning Man 2004
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i ride out to the middle of nowhere… one hand on my velvet handlebars, the other gripping a bloody mary. my muppet boots shake off dust with every pump of my pedal. it is morning and everything is sacred… the benign breeze, the protective mountains, the semi-circle and all the creativity coming from it. this is home. no airs, no pretenses. just raging expression and a big hot plate of reality turned upside down. the wind rustles my handlebar tassles, my mouth sweats with the spice of the drink. i am sandwiched between the man and the city, soon to be above the city on a cessna photography mission. art sculptures strategic out in the nether regions beyond the man. sunburn thru lace gloves, deep satiated breathing and smirks at all my giddy friends in scandilous outfits and situations… there is no where else i’d rather be…
“life under the big top, it’s about freedom, there’s an art to the laughter, there’s a science and there’s a lot of love and compliance. we live to hear the slack-jawed gasping, we live under a halo of held breath, and when the children raise up a giant shield, of laughter, it’s like they’re fending off death and we can make somethig bigger, then any one of us alone. welcome to the freakshow. here we go…”
