My first visit to Burning Man in 2006 was a journey of discovery that I wrote about in this report. Beneath the colorful and fun party scene, I found a culture that valued contribution and artistry over profit and competition. I found social mores that might seem at first glance to be bohemian, but upon further investigation proved full of respect, trust, intergrity and community.
After that journey, many of my new friends dispersed to far corners, while I got to know others better at the music festivals I enjoy. By the time Burning Man 2007 rolled around, I wouldn't be “discovering” it anymore, I would be exploring that discovery. I felt something to learn, grow and share with the people I had met, and also in the serendipity and magic that such a vivid and unconventional environment facilitated.
What would Burning Man mean for me when it stopped blowing my mind?
After I arrived and set up my van, I spent some time in camp. Ton-Ton explained to me that he was no longer very focused on checking out all the splendid diversions and spectacles but was mainly interested in revisiting his network of friends. I got the feeling from others as well that, for them, Burning Man was like a conference of tribes gathered to carry out an important ritual that sustained them though the coming year. In advance of that ritual, the tribe members reunited, embraced, told stories, and celebrated life together in the fullest.
I couldn't claim a deep knowledge of these new people in my life but the intuitive connection was clear. I kept thinking, “There's a familiar face that I haven't met yet.” It became such a strong premonition of meeting people that I used it as a greeting a number of times. The Nonverbal language of presence and attitude can be profound and powerful if one is “listening.” The folks at Burning Man were speaking it.
It turned out that the Dragon was a little behind schedule in donning it's skin for it's resurrection from a bus-like skeleton. The crew had got sidetracked helping some friends out. This resulted in a few people spending much of the first half of the festival working really hard to make Abraxas happen again. I thank them. I tried to lend a hand from time to time with my limited skills. The selfish and independent part of me wanted to go run around Burning Man. I indulged in that a lot. The hard laborers didn't pressure me or make me feel judged for my lack of dedication but welcomed my time when I gave it. I resolved to contribute my photography to everyone, serving some time when the festival was over.
I was even out photographing at 3am during a full lunar eclipse. I noticed flames in the distance and slowly realized that it wasn't somebody's fire art, it was “The Man” on Fire! I would find out later that an arsonist with a philosophical point to make had orchestrated a premature immolation for the guest of honor.
It felt eerie gathering around the sudden blaze under the mystical eclipsed moon. It seemed like an omen, but of what? In the next few days, parodies of the 9-11 terrorism were inevitable. I saw signs reading “8-28, never forget!” and “8-28 was an inside job!” During the usual annual burning of the man, there is always a mock protest of folks petitioning “Save the Man!” Somebody yelled that a few times during the arson, and for the first time, fire crews came and actually did save the Man! His sentence was merely commutated, as crews worked overtime rebuilding the Man only so he could be definitely burned again on schedule.
More seriously, living under the specter of war, climate change and oil depletion, I noted that societies don't notice profound changes coming until they were imminent. We live with binders on, not questioning our ways honestly enough to act in time. I resolved to question my assumptions about even basic things.
There were other reminders at Burning Man that our security on the planet is increasingly tenuous. The theme this year was “the Green Man” highlighting environmental awareness. A major art installation called “Crude Awakening” spoke to the pain that our dependence on oil has wrought on the planet. Check out this site for more info on our oil crisis.
After we burned the Man at the official time on Saturday, the oil derrick was also burned, ignited by a huge explosion. It was to be replaced with a huge live pine tree the following day in symbolic transformation. The tree was only half erected before organizers asked it removed, ironically for environmental concerns. Burning Man is a zero trance event and authorities felt the tree, stressed in the heat, might shed needles everywhere. Every needle was supposed to be picked up. Between the protest of the arsonist and the difference of opinion over the Crude Awakening's final act, the question of questioning authority was a repeated theme in Burning Man discussions. Which ways of independent thinking and action were courageous and valued, and which actions were dangerous or disrespectful?
On the personal level, Burning Man continued to be a place where I could question my own habitual attitudes. For instance, over the previous year I had become familiar with a number of the bands, DJs, and acts that frequent Burning Man. I researched the schedule and made a point of attending what I expected would be favorite events. I found though, that sometimes even if the music was great, sometimes I didn't feel like being there. If I listened to that inner voice, I'd go wander and invariably find myself having a meaningful experience somewhere else. To be where I needed to be, I needed to disregard my assumptions about what I was looking for and be present and flexible in the moment.
I also needed to bring that openness and trust into my exploration of people. Tens of thousands attend Burning Man. Even so, I had the consistent experience of noticing certain individuals repeatedly and eventually meeting them. It had been far from my unassuming demeanor in the “outside world” to approach strangers with my guard down, but my repeated connections at Burning Man taught me to trust my intuition and the people I gravitated towards. I realized that if society could shift its perspective such that respect and acceptance were the norm, that we'd be surrounded everywhere by friends in a supportive, positive environment. I prayed that Humanity would awaken to a better life for all through love and respect.
As if to symbolize the promise of planetary upliftment, it began to rain after days of really hot weather. The clouds parted and the strongest double rainbow possible embraced the horizon to the epiphany of all who witnessed it.
It wasn't as though the community of Burning Man was immune from the divisions that divide ordinary society into subcultures. Even the counter-culture was very diverse and tended to form tribal units. Burning Man's core principle of “radical inclusion” is an ideal that human nature struggles with. Some perceived elitism in the beautiful people who put high tribal fashion on display. A friend commented felt a barrier up around these “Galactic Supermodels” even though she looked and dressed just like them.
So the question was in the back of my mind at times during my adventures. Was there class divisions and elites at Burning Man? It was plain that “the Tribes” were close-knit friends who enjoyed their own company. To benefit from a culture where trust and respect are expected and given, it's important that the members are sensitive to those expectations. Really beautiful women can often feel safe and unmolested when they stick within their tribe that values respectful and consensual connections. A talented artist or musician might have an invisible aura of being hard to approach because hundreds of folks would enjoy cozying up to him, and that would make life hard. Subtle cues in posture, association, and dress signaled who was on the same page.
I'm certain that every camp had individuals with varying strengths and weaknesses. Some had the vision and heart to see beneath the surface of someone while others perhaps felt insecure and needed to protect their social status through association. Some people undoubtedly have more finesse and diplomacy in managing their personal space than others. I got the feeling that most everyone worked at learning lesions from life and honing their dance with others.
When I observed groups from a distance, I could understand the perception of elitism. Many camps had their own style and looked like insular units. The more I was able to hang out with different crowds though, the more wonderful and cool I found them to be. I found it hard to find real elitists up close, only from a distance. I also suspected that people's projections of insecurity and rejection created that reality in their social interactions. We connect easier with those whom we expect will accept us.
For instance, I was at the tail entrance of the dragon as we took a group of media on a tour of the big art installations. We were packed and had to tell those who tried to hop on that we couldn't allow them aboard at the time. Some perceived it as an elitist slight. We even got the finger from an angry guy. Nobody was negative in return though. The value of respect and love transcended the impulse to react in a petty manner. It was one of the few negative expressions I saw all week.
In fact, interactions at Burning Man were a study in vivid contrast. Here were all these people dressing in crazy, flamboyant ways, and even beautiful women who might choose to wear very sexy clothes or go topless. The un-initiated could look around and say, “These people are the lunatic fringe!” The funny thing is that, even in the middle of this party environment, among all these wild expressions, everyone seemed well grounded, positive, and the interactions felt respectful, mature and well communicated. There were no loud arguments, jealous tweakiness, drunk boorishness, or clashing male egos. I can only speak about the folks I was hanging out with but I was impressed with the level of humanity.
Which was a good thing because it was evident from some of the dancing and workouts that a bunch of these Samurai were high level martial artists in their own right.
Being in costume is a Burning Man tradition. How people express themselves in costume must say something about them; what they aspire to, what they've repressed, or perhaps what colorful image they'd like to act out and share. These Samurai weren't just dressed up like warriors; they were embodying the honor and impeccability that real Samurai were known for.
A wise man observed that Art is an amplification of natural beauty and natural feelings because we are too insensitive to appreciate reality as it is. That's food for thought. I get the feeling that even if there were no art, music or costumes at Burning Man, that many adherents would still find it to be a rewarding, profound experience in community. Still, those with a creative muse want to express it. Inspired humans like to play. Costumes are a great tool for prying us from our habitual manner of relating to each other in ordinary society.
On the final night, the Temple is burned. In contrast to the 24/7 noise the previous week, and the music and fireworks of the other burns, the Temple is burned solemnly in silence. This year it was the Temple of Forgiveness. People recorded their commitments to forgive and it was all burned in the Temple. I loved that Burning Man had a Temple of Forgiveness. Achieving peace and forgiveness in my life feels a powerful step to support peace and forgiveness in the world. What we experience as society is the reflection of us all. We can't expect governments to achieve peace if we can't do so in our own lives and relationships.
Thousands of people circled the Temple site in a huge radius. A cheer or a chant burst out when the temple burned. It spread in a clockwise direction around the circumference until it reached the beginning. In an unplanned, spontaneous event of symbiosis and communal entrainment, the cheer made repeated lengthy circles of the crowd. When the Temple burned, the excitement and celebration of the previous week gave way to a heart opening love and gratitude. Afterwards there was a lot of hugging and tearful greetings and goodbyes.
Indeed, my experience of Burning Man in 2007 turned suspicion into certainty that society could be more open and rewarding for all if we risked shedding the skin of old cultural and personal assumptions. It would cost us nothing. Love and respect are more rewarding and inspirational forces than greed and competition. The sooner this fashion of community dynamic spreads to the larger society, the better we will face the challenges coming our way.
I hope you all find inspiration, creativity, peace and love
Karl ‘Baba'
After that journey, many of my new friends dispersed to far corners, while I got to know others better at the music festivals I enjoy. By the time Burning Man 2007 rolled around, I wouldn't be “discovering” it anymore, I would be exploring that discovery. I felt something to learn, grow and share with the people I had met, and also in the serendipity and magic that such a vivid and unconventional environment facilitated.
What would Burning Man mean for me when it stopped blowing my mind?
After I arrived and set up my van, I spent some time in camp. Ton-Ton explained to me that he was no longer very focused on checking out all the splendid diversions and spectacles but was mainly interested in revisiting his network of friends. I got the feeling from others as well that, for them, Burning Man was like a conference of tribes gathered to carry out an important ritual that sustained them though the coming year. In advance of that ritual, the tribe members reunited, embraced, told stories, and celebrated life together in the fullest.
I couldn't claim a deep knowledge of these new people in my life but the intuitive connection was clear. I kept thinking, “There's a familiar face that I haven't met yet.” It became such a strong premonition of meeting people that I used it as a greeting a number of times. The Nonverbal language of presence and attitude can be profound and powerful if one is “listening.” The folks at Burning Man were speaking it.
It turned out that the Dragon was a little behind schedule in donning it's skin for it's resurrection from a bus-like skeleton. The crew had got sidetracked helping some friends out. This resulted in a few people spending much of the first half of the festival working really hard to make Abraxas happen again. I thank them. I tried to lend a hand from time to time with my limited skills. The selfish and independent part of me wanted to go run around Burning Man. I indulged in that a lot. The hard laborers didn't pressure me or make me feel judged for my lack of dedication but welcomed my time when I gave it. I resolved to contribute my photography to everyone, serving some time when the festival was over.
I was even out photographing at 3am during a full lunar eclipse. I noticed flames in the distance and slowly realized that it wasn't somebody's fire art, it was “The Man” on Fire! I would find out later that an arsonist with a philosophical point to make had orchestrated a premature immolation for the guest of honor.
It felt eerie gathering around the sudden blaze under the mystical eclipsed moon. It seemed like an omen, but of what? In the next few days, parodies of the 9-11 terrorism were inevitable. I saw signs reading “8-28, never forget!” and “8-28 was an inside job!” During the usual annual burning of the man, there is always a mock protest of folks petitioning “Save the Man!” Somebody yelled that a few times during the arson, and for the first time, fire crews came and actually did save the Man! His sentence was merely commutated, as crews worked overtime rebuilding the Man only so he could be definitely burned again on schedule.
More seriously, living under the specter of war, climate change and oil depletion, I noted that societies don't notice profound changes coming until they were imminent. We live with binders on, not questioning our ways honestly enough to act in time. I resolved to question my assumptions about even basic things.
There were other reminders at Burning Man that our security on the planet is increasingly tenuous. The theme this year was “the Green Man” highlighting environmental awareness. A major art installation called “Crude Awakening” spoke to the pain that our dependence on oil has wrought on the planet. Check out this site for more info on our oil crisis.
After we burned the Man at the official time on Saturday, the oil derrick was also burned, ignited by a huge explosion. It was to be replaced with a huge live pine tree the following day in symbolic transformation. The tree was only half erected before organizers asked it removed, ironically for environmental concerns. Burning Man is a zero trance event and authorities felt the tree, stressed in the heat, might shed needles everywhere. Every needle was supposed to be picked up. Between the protest of the arsonist and the difference of opinion over the Crude Awakening's final act, the question of questioning authority was a repeated theme in Burning Man discussions. Which ways of independent thinking and action were courageous and valued, and which actions were dangerous or disrespectful?
On the personal level, Burning Man continued to be a place where I could question my own habitual attitudes. For instance, over the previous year I had become familiar with a number of the bands, DJs, and acts that frequent Burning Man. I researched the schedule and made a point of attending what I expected would be favorite events. I found though, that sometimes even if the music was great, sometimes I didn't feel like being there. If I listened to that inner voice, I'd go wander and invariably find myself having a meaningful experience somewhere else. To be where I needed to be, I needed to disregard my assumptions about what I was looking for and be present and flexible in the moment.
I also needed to bring that openness and trust into my exploration of people. Tens of thousands attend Burning Man. Even so, I had the consistent experience of noticing certain individuals repeatedly and eventually meeting them. It had been far from my unassuming demeanor in the “outside world” to approach strangers with my guard down, but my repeated connections at Burning Man taught me to trust my intuition and the people I gravitated towards. I realized that if society could shift its perspective such that respect and acceptance were the norm, that we'd be surrounded everywhere by friends in a supportive, positive environment. I prayed that Humanity would awaken to a better life for all through love and respect.
As if to symbolize the promise of planetary upliftment, it began to rain after days of really hot weather. The clouds parted and the strongest double rainbow possible embraced the horizon to the epiphany of all who witnessed it.
It wasn't as though the community of Burning Man was immune from the divisions that divide ordinary society into subcultures. Even the counter-culture was very diverse and tended to form tribal units. Burning Man's core principle of “radical inclusion” is an ideal that human nature struggles with. Some perceived elitism in the beautiful people who put high tribal fashion on display. A friend commented felt a barrier up around these “Galactic Supermodels” even though she looked and dressed just like them.
So the question was in the back of my mind at times during my adventures. Was there class divisions and elites at Burning Man? It was plain that “the Tribes” were close-knit friends who enjoyed their own company. To benefit from a culture where trust and respect are expected and given, it's important that the members are sensitive to those expectations. Really beautiful women can often feel safe and unmolested when they stick within their tribe that values respectful and consensual connections. A talented artist or musician might have an invisible aura of being hard to approach because hundreds of folks would enjoy cozying up to him, and that would make life hard. Subtle cues in posture, association, and dress signaled who was on the same page.
I'm certain that every camp had individuals with varying strengths and weaknesses. Some had the vision and heart to see beneath the surface of someone while others perhaps felt insecure and needed to protect their social status through association. Some people undoubtedly have more finesse and diplomacy in managing their personal space than others. I got the feeling that most everyone worked at learning lesions from life and honing their dance with others.
When I observed groups from a distance, I could understand the perception of elitism. Many camps had their own style and looked like insular units. The more I was able to hang out with different crowds though, the more wonderful and cool I found them to be. I found it hard to find real elitists up close, only from a distance. I also suspected that people's projections of insecurity and rejection created that reality in their social interactions. We connect easier with those whom we expect will accept us.
For instance, I was at the tail entrance of the dragon as we took a group of media on a tour of the big art installations. We were packed and had to tell those who tried to hop on that we couldn't allow them aboard at the time. Some perceived it as an elitist slight. We even got the finger from an angry guy. Nobody was negative in return though. The value of respect and love transcended the impulse to react in a petty manner. It was one of the few negative expressions I saw all week.
In fact, interactions at Burning Man were a study in vivid contrast. Here were all these people dressing in crazy, flamboyant ways, and even beautiful women who might choose to wear very sexy clothes or go topless. The un-initiated could look around and say, “These people are the lunatic fringe!” The funny thing is that, even in the middle of this party environment, among all these wild expressions, everyone seemed well grounded, positive, and the interactions felt respectful, mature and well communicated. There were no loud arguments, jealous tweakiness, drunk boorishness, or clashing male egos. I can only speak about the folks I was hanging out with but I was impressed with the level of humanity.
Which was a good thing because it was evident from some of the dancing and workouts that a bunch of these Samurai were high level martial artists in their own right.
Being in costume is a Burning Man tradition. How people express themselves in costume must say something about them; what they aspire to, what they've repressed, or perhaps what colorful image they'd like to act out and share. These Samurai weren't just dressed up like warriors; they were embodying the honor and impeccability that real Samurai were known for.
A wise man observed that Art is an amplification of natural beauty and natural feelings because we are too insensitive to appreciate reality as it is. That's food for thought. I get the feeling that even if there were no art, music or costumes at Burning Man, that many adherents would still find it to be a rewarding, profound experience in community. Still, those with a creative muse want to express it. Inspired humans like to play. Costumes are a great tool for prying us from our habitual manner of relating to each other in ordinary society.
On the final night, the Temple is burned. In contrast to the 24/7 noise the previous week, and the music and fireworks of the other burns, the Temple is burned solemnly in silence. This year it was the Temple of Forgiveness. People recorded their commitments to forgive and it was all burned in the Temple. I loved that Burning Man had a Temple of Forgiveness. Achieving peace and forgiveness in my life feels a powerful step to support peace and forgiveness in the world. What we experience as society is the reflection of us all. We can't expect governments to achieve peace if we can't do so in our own lives and relationships.
Thousands of people circled the Temple site in a huge radius. A cheer or a chant burst out when the temple burned. It spread in a clockwise direction around the circumference until it reached the beginning. In an unplanned, spontaneous event of symbiosis and communal entrainment, the cheer made repeated lengthy circles of the crowd. When the Temple burned, the excitement and celebration of the previous week gave way to a heart opening love and gratitude. Afterwards there was a lot of hugging and tearful greetings and goodbyes.
Indeed, my experience of Burning Man in 2007 turned suspicion into certainty that society could be more open and rewarding for all if we risked shedding the skin of old cultural and personal assumptions. It would cost us nothing. Love and respect are more rewarding and inspirational forces than greed and competition. The sooner this fashion of community dynamic spreads to the larger society, the better we will face the challenges coming our way.
I hope you all find inspiration, creativity, peace and love
Karl ‘Baba'
2006 Burning Man Gallery-Prints available at no profit-Printing Cost
2007 Burning Man Gallery -Prints available at no profit-Printing Cost
