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Seattle

As you drive into Black Rock City you stop at the final gate, roll down your car window, and a greeter says "Welcome Home." Like most things Burning Man, writing about this moment saps its power and makes it sound kooky and hippy-dippy if you haven't had the experience. But that's your problem. It's why writing about, describing, even showing photos of the event and place is problematic. Burning Man is an experience--30,500 different experiences this year--and no show and tell can convey the essential information that one feels out there.

BRC felt completely like home to me this year; I wouldn't have put up with the adversity I dealt with just to go to a big party in the desert. You get out of Burning Man what you put in to it, and this year I put in a lot (though want to put in more). What I experienced and took away, well, I'm still processing, but as expected, it was not what I expected.

A relatively brief list of things to remember, meditate on, and maybe write about:

I like having blond hair (really more of a mottled animal print at this point, perhaps more red than blond). The blond hair is staying until it decides it wants to be something else.

Not sure if it felt better to have the stuff that was in our backyard all summer setup in our camp or better to burn it.

I lived in an outstanding neighborhood at Revered and Authority.

The first night on Pastor Jack's Cosmic Joke Bar, exhausted, energized, surrounded by familiar faces and warm hearts.

My one regret: being unable to paint James' effigy which was burned, with his ashes, in the Temple of Honor. Dehydration, exhaustion, and a whiteout got in the way.

Coffee in the Cafe with Kelly and Chris, watching as the remote controlled gifting mobile couldn't give anything away to save it's life--people just kept adding to the booty.

I've decided tutus are an incredibly flexible fashion item that demand further exploration.

Being very comfortable with Plan B.

Sunrises.

Mark and I traipsing across the city, enjoying the fresh grass at Xara, delighting in the fact that we were no longer in Ridgecrest, laughing our asses off at the temporary realization that noone knows what Monet looks like and you can turn carrots into high energy plasma in a microwave oven (well, maybe it wasn't carrots . . . or a microwave oven).

My first (and only) professional foot wash administered to woman from Tickle Camp while her partner asked if I had drugs to sell them (I did not.).

The new energy that flowed into our camp each day with the arrivals of Paula/Lisa, Robin/Sara, Jane, Josh/Helen.

Watching people ponder Gina's giant heads/brains.

The drugged out woman who passed out next to our dome, threw down the water I gave her when I asked where she lived in BRC, but was eventually saved (momnetarily at least) by the good graces of the Smile Bar which conveyed her to the Med Tent.

Being dependent in an environment that demands self-reliance, and having it all work out because I was surrounded by people who love and care for each other.

Driving with Mark, Phil, and Corrine alternating as shotgun.

The Eyes of God, the Spheres of Transformation, the Temple of Gravity, the giant shark, Moby Dick, the human hamster wheel, the DIY crucification installation, the Desert Flower, Draca the Dragon, the Space Cowboys mobile plasma screens/disco moving like the Pied Piper across the Playa, the Kangaroos, the BlueHouse dome and grass compound, the Roller Coaster (and the video footage of Corinne and Lara riding it), the Bayou, Conexus, Temple of the Feral Kitten . . .

Watching La Contessa sail across the Playa and remembering last year when, for a day or so, you could still tell it was a yellow school bus.

A superb fish taco given in exchange for my one joke ("What did the Buddha say to the hot dog vendor?").

Seeing Daniel Glusenkamp for the first time twelve or so years while I stood atop a ladder, watching him play giant skee ball, meeting his charming girlfriend, crashing his happy hour, wanting to talk more, but, well, we'll get to that.

Being lost in the extraordinary Flight to Mars funhouse, watching our scout Lara escape from a trap with a ball stuck in her boot, and making a Scooby Doo-like exit thanks to Corinne.

Trading my soul for a snow cone at Necronomicone.

Getting to know the beautiful people at Necronomicone who gave my soul away to someone named Jessica dressed as Snow White--thanks guys, my soul is now in her scrapbook with no hope of return. But Mars, Nono, Todd, Thomas, Hedra, Lisa, RJ, Sandy, Jasmine, Mike, Cathy and others who I'd know (just not their names) were extraordinary.

Watching Justin and Randy get dressed.

Seeing the SiniMart come to life, finally.

Being incredibly moved by Trevor and Sara's kind words and firm hugs.

Come to think of it, being incredibly moved at some point by all of my friends.

Listening to Jane play her pink furry cello in Boo's dome.

Cheese and nectarines provided by Sara & Robin just when I'd hit my limit of instant mashed potatoes.

The night of the Burn on the Buddha Bus, meeting Seattlites and then careening across the city with Paula and Lisa who, when they move, careeen.

T's blanket innovation on the Smile Bar and noting how Zen-like she was in the face of things not going according to her plan (but being beautiful nonetheless).

Talking with Lisa, who made it there, had a transformative year, and who I wished I'd had a chance to talk to more.

Sharing a Guniness with Fuzee, talking about things, James, and (again) wishing we'd had more time together.

Semi-naked, highly educated men carving rubber stamps (with mixed success) in the dome.

An exquisite evening/morning that involved, among other things, dancing my ass off, comandeering an art car, working a greeter shift that started at midnight, being acosted by a pack of bears, kissing a particularly nice bear, giving three bears a ride home, caring for an injured bear, and walking across the Playa at sunrise to spray paint my shoes red before I fell asleep for two hours and dove into another beautiful day.

Thinking about Dia and knowing that this wasn't her year to be here, but it will be.

Watching the Lara and Corinne deathmatch at the base of the Man and not being able to figure out precisely how it started.

Hathor, the Goddess of Sex, Drugs, and Rock and Roll telling me not one, but two stories that were really very good.

The necklaces currently around my neck: the bone choker from Sara and the metal heart from my bear.

The spectacle of unpacking/repacking the rented SUV at a Casino in Reno.

Corinne, generally, but particularly the fact that she's still using the fur bag I made and gave to her last year.

Dancing for hours at Paddy Mirage on the night of the Burn with the Irish DJ wearing one of my EL Wire concoction around his neck.

Paula and Lisa screaming "GET OFF MY LAND" in the midst of a whiteout while the city disintegrated on Sunday.

Jane, Josh/Helen, Randy/Justin pitching in to make sure we moved all our trash off the Playa.

Burning the Triple S Spiritual Service Station and being amazed at how hot a fire can get.

Sharing a particular, really big hug with Lara.

Giving away much of what I brought.

Scheming with Mark F about how we could build really small cars shaped like stuffed animals.

Nearly spent, having a conversation with Mark H on the night of the Temple Burn, and realizing we haven't had too many of these conversations but I would like more.

Oh my, the Dollar Stores in Ridgecrest are second to none.

Carrying expectations and letting go of them.

Pissing clear (except once).

Bestowing critical "don't hit me lights" on two unprepared, possible frat boys that part of me wished would be get run over by an art car . . . and receiving a gifts in return (the biggest gift being the look in their eyes that maybe the world didn't have to work exactly how they thought it did).

Thanking the nurse who took care of my bear only to have him thank me and gush about how he'd never experienced anything like BRC.

Paula sewing the red fur I brought for who knows what reason into a nice skirt--the perfect complement to my red bow.

My yellow hard hat, which blinked.

My tent, adorned with a nice thick layer of Playa, and every important thing I needed tucked safely away in a special place I could not remember.