Black Rock City, NV
Some come to burning man to find themselves. Me; I came to lose myself. So far, all I’ve managed to lose is my camera bag (with my camera and phone) after a big night dancing at the various camp parties, in particular, Slut Garden. Out of the dust, a male approaches the camp, like an angel and floats towards me with my camera bag. I’ve never been so happy and grateful to see a stranger. Good news, my camera bag still has everything still in it. The Playa really does provide. Everything is right again in the world. The sense of community and the principles are very much lived by the burners here. I decide to spend some time in the RV resting, with no aircon or running water in the desert.. At least the RV is shaded unlike the camp.
Tuesday rolls around, so John and I go “deep playa”. We get caught in a dust storm we can’t see in front of, stop at a tea house and eat flat bread at another camp. A quick stop off at “Costume Kult” camp allows me to make a tutu for tutu Tuesday.
Tonight, we go to Mayan Warrior. Apparently this camp/ stage is funded by Mexican drug cartels.