photo by Nigel Reeves

The Burningman
| Festival
by Nigel Reeves

We were greeted by the 60km winds and the
sight of porta-potties rolling like tumbleweed across the
palaya floor. What was supposed to be the magnificent
Black Rock City had been leveled by a massive desert
storm, and those scorching 40°C temperatures we had
read about were no where to be found. It was fucking
cold out... [Lesson #1, there is no such thing as expec-
tations at Burningman].

Day two brought sunshine and a whole lot of
rebuilding, but that was OK because we had a whole lot
of building of our own to do. Base camp is essential.

Day three brought our first real exploration of
the landscape and some of what it had to offer; these
would include a ten foot vibrating penis, a large rocking
horse and a human sized hamster ball. Our second set
of neighbors also arrived on this day and promptly
erected a 25 foot pyramid, emerged in full costume and
declared, "we are going out in search of slaves." Two
hours later a chain of "slaves" came in tow with orders
to prepare dinner and clean the pyramid... and in
some weird and perverse (no judgment intended) way
all parties seemed to be rather pleased with the
arrangement. [Lesson #2, To each their own; what the
fuck are you going to with your day?]

Day four would stand as the day we thought we
kind of had the hang of things (i.e. we had passed the
acclimatization phase and finally started participating
FREELY in the environment around us, also known as
the point your jaw stops hanging at half mast.)
Symptoms include accepting motorized couches, UFO
sightings and planets as street names as common occur-
rences. "Where are we?", "On Mars and 2:15", "OK,
| will meet you on Pluto and 3:15 at 4:30", "4:30 the
time or 4:30 the street", (enter third party) "Can you
pass the flame thrower." In the end, does it all really
matter; we are all free floating organisms acting and
reacting with each other. [This might be lesson #3, I'm
not sure]. The point | am incoherently trying to com-
municate to you is that once you adjust to the non-
judgemental, free floating attitude, opportunity seems
to lie around every corner and things just start happen-
ing. [ Maybe lesson #3 is that coherence comes several
weeks after the actual event.]

Day five brings with it a new born, confident
Black Rock Citizen ready to conquer just about any task.
By this point , momentum was growing, the angels
were flying, the body paint flowing, the glitter tent glit-
tering, the clothing swap swapping, and every inch of
the dessert landscape seemed to be alive with activity.
The beauty of it all, was that if there was anything miss-
ing, someone was probably out there filling the gap.
Thirty minute bathroom waits, no problem, Phil will play
his cello to help pass the time. All seemed complete,
and | thought | had a fairly good grasp of the situation.
Then | saw a man suck his own cock on a bed of nails,
and with it [Lesson #4, forget everything you've
learned, for we are only just beginning].

Day six, seven and eight perhaps, find them-
selves mixed in a blender with more of the same, a dash
of surprise and a few unexpecteds. A dream | think,
with Mega-Volt and his giant Tesa-Coil, the Twirly-
Whirrly room and 500 naked people making patterns
on the palaya floor all part of the mixture. It was amaz-
ing, it was exciting, it was insanity... it was exhausting.
| fell down! But in the end, when the haze cleared, and
the playa was nothing more than a distant memory, |
knew that something beautiful had happened. And will
happen again this year. But what you must remember,
is that what | have told here, is but one perspective
among thousands. No one can say what Burningman is
because it is what YOU make of it, nothing more.

Burningman happens every year on the last
week of August, 70 miles outside of Reno in the middle
of the Black Rock Desert. For more information check
their web site at www.burningman.com.

UMMER
EVENTS
é

Oregon Country Fair

by Nat Ferrary-Morton

My thoughts are a convoluted swirl of Gypsies,

faries, mud-people, bellydancers, breakdancers, acrobats

and or course, musicians. The hot July sun bakes the
backs of all who choose the outskirts of the woods, and
the forest is a safe haven of cool where secret pockets of
the fantasy faerie world are fullfilled. What better place
to enjoy ravioli in a pesto sause while sipping freshly
squeezed O.J. and watching baby gramps, a guy with
more facial hair than face. :

Well, | will say, I've never seen the like: of it
before, and hope to never miss the chance again! The ~
misfit drummers kept the beat for 3 days straight while
frantic dancers stomped it into the ground. People from
all over come to experience excentricity in its finest: A
Giant Godess on stilts meets the King of Diamonds, also
on stilts. The lair of the gypsies kept me drooling all day
long with the lucious swing of the beautiful dancers. All
the while, | knew | was missing some other adventure not
too far off. But with so many stages and soo many
strange and brilliant acts to see, | couldn't help but miss
one or. two. The kaleidoscope at the Dragon entrance is
only a taste of the colourful mirage awaiting you inside
the gates. A mirage is all too truthful; the memory of the
fair seems like a dream and you could only hope that
such a dream might come true. But it does. And it has
for the last 30 years thanks to a committed group who
know the value and importance of celebrating music, art,
and craft and surround it in a huge embrace of love and
a lot of fun. =

a3

@)
oe

‘photo by Nigel Reeves

The Burningman
; Festival
by Nigel Reeves

‘We were greeted by the 60km winds and the
sight of porta-potties rolling like tumbleweed across the
palaya floor. What was supposed to be the magnificent
Black Rock City had been leveled by a massive desert
storm, and those scorching 40°C temperatures we had
read about were no where to be found. It was fucking
cold out... [Lesson #1, there is no such thing as expec-
tations at Burningman}.

Day two brought sunshine and a whole lot of
rebuilding, but that was OK because we had a whole lot
of building of our own to do. Base camp is essential

Day three brought our first real exploration of
the landscape and some of what it had to offer; these
would include a ten foot vibrating penis, a large rocking
horse and a human sized hamster ball. Our second set
of neighbors also arrived on this day and promptly
erected a 25 foot pyramid, emerged in full costume and
declared, “we are going out in search of slaves." Two
hours later a chain of "slaves" came in tow with orders
to prepare dinner and clean the pyramid... and in
some weird and perverse (no judgment intended) way
all parties seemed to be rather pleased with the
arrangement. [Lesson #2, To each their own; what the
fuck are you going to with your day?]

Day four would stand as the day we thought we
kind of had the hang of things (i.e. we had passed the
‘acclimatization phase and finally started participating
FREELY in the environment around us, also known as
the point your jaw stops hanging at half mast.)
Symptoms include accepting motorized couches, UFO
sightings and planets as street names as common occur-
rences. "Where are we?", "On Mars and 2:15", "OK,
will meet you on Pluto and 3:15 at 4:30", "4:30 the
time or 4:30 the street", (enter third party) "Can you
paass the flame thrower." In the end, does it all really
matter; we are all free floating organisms acting and
reacting with each other. [This might be lesson #3, I'm
not sure]. The point | am incoherently trying to com-
municate to you is that once you adjust to the non-
judgemental, free floating attitude, opportunity seems
to lie around every comer and things just start happen-
ing. [ Maybe lesson #3 is that coherence comes several
weeks after the actual event.]

Day five brings with it a new born, confident
Black Rock Citizen ready to conquer just about any task,
By this point , momentum was growing, the angels
were flying, the body paint flowing, the glitter tent glit-
tering, the clothing swap swapping, and every inch of
the dessert landscape seemed to be alive with activity.
The beauty of it all, was that if there was anything miss-
ing, someone was probably out there filling the gap.
Thirty minute bathroom waits, no problem, Phil will play
his cello to help pass the time. All seemed complete,
and | thought | had a fairly good grasp of the situation.
Then I saw a man suck his own cock on a bed of nails,
and with it [Lesson #4, forget everything you've
leaned, for we are only just beginning).

Day six, seven and eight perhaps, find them-
selves mixed in a blender with more of the same, a dash
of surprise and a few unexpecteds. A dream | think,
with Mega-Volt and his giant Tesa-Coil, the Twirly-
Whirrly room and 500 naked people making patterns
on the palaya floor all part of the mixture. It was amaz~
ing, it was exciting, it was insanity... it was exhausting.
| ell down! But in the end, when the haze cleared, and
the playa was nothing more than a distant memory, |
knew that something beautiful had happened. And will
happen again this year. But what you must remember,
is that what I have told here, is but one perspective
among thousands. No one can say what Burningman is
because it is what YOU make of it, nothing more.

Burningman happens every year on the last.
week of August, 70 miles outside of Reno in the middle
of the Black Rock Desert. For more information check
their web site at www.burningman.com.

SUMMER
EVENTS
@

Oregon Country Fair

by Nat Ferrary-Morton

My thoughts are a convoluted swirl of Gypsies,
faries, mud-people, bellydancers, breakdancers, acrobats
and or course, musicians. The hot July sun bakes the
backs of all who choose the outskirts of the woods, and
the forest is a safe haven of cool where secret pockets of
the fantasy faerie world are fullfilled. What better place
to enjoy ravioli in a pesto sause while sipping freshly
squeezed OJ. and watching baby gramps, a guy with
‘more facial hair than face.

Well, 1 will say, I've never seen the like of it
before, and hope to never miss the chance again! The
misfit drummers kept the beat for 3 days straight while
frantic dancers stomped it into the ground. People from
all over come to experience excentricity in its finest. A
Giant Godess on stilts meets the King of Diamonds, also
on stilts. The lair of the gypsies kept me drooling all day
long with the lucious swing of the beautiful dancers. All
the while, | knew | was missing some other adventure not
too far off. But with so many stages and soo many
strange and brillant acts to see, | couldn't help but miss
‘one or two. The kaleidoscope at the Dragon entrance is,
only a taste of the colourful mirage awaiting you inside
the gates. A mirage is all too truthful; the memory of the
fair seems like a dream and you could only hope that
such a dream might come true. But it does. And it has
for the last 30 years thanks to a committed group who
know the value and importance of celebrating music, art,
and craft and surround it in a huge embrace of love and
a lot of fun.

23 _@