The gate.
At the gate the person searching the car asked me to open the trunk. It had a bike rack on it. I only got it open a little ways because the bikes were heavy steel. He then he stuck his head all the way inside. We had been partying in the line neighborhood that had formed during the wait. Even with the energy of daybreak upon us my grip began to slip. He finished and pulled his head out never realizing the decapitation danger. We went in!
Fire.
On Thursday the Circle of Regional Effigies burned.
On Friday the Trojan horse burned after having been towed into the playa by hundreds of costumed people. There was an absinthe bar in the horses belly.
On Labor Day, at the man base, after many of those who had burned the man had left to go work for the man, Moonfire built a large structure from parts of the 1111 Monument camp. It resembled the Golden Gate bridge and was to memorialize his child who had jumped off of it and those whose names were said by the people at the fire.
On Tuesday burn barrels were overflowing.
Music.
Shamans conducted compositions with hand movements from an elevated stand over a sea of dancers. Each note with a perfection a magnitude more perfect than a symphony of all musical instruments perfectly played,
Art.
Visionary Art in the Fractal Nation Village Dome; flying art in the form of whales, islands and strings of balloons; mutated vehicles as muffins, kayaks, and flame-throwing octopi.
Architecture.
Bars and art installations shared the theme of an upward spiral foot path to the second floor heights and then down to the intoxicants or the meditation. Jumps and ingenious obstacles presented themselves in bike paths drawing barkers and audiences. The dock, pictured above was the best.
There was life.
There was love.
