I've lurked on eplaya for years now so I feel as though I “know,” many of you.
Last year was my first year to go to Burning Man after years of wanting to. My husband is sober so we had put it off for fears of him relapsing. When we heard the theme was “Rites of Passage,” we knew it was the year for both of us to take the plunge. As luck would have it our camp (Couch Burners) was placed right next to the AA Camp. AA burners all week were coming over to check on him to see if he was doing ok. Awww the playa...
As I walked, biked, skipped, and oooh and awed my way around the city I kept thinking how I could not believe I had finally made it to the playa. Over and over again those words ran through my brain and many times out my mouth to various people. “I can’t believe I’m finally here! I can’t fucking believe it!” It was amazing to be in a place I had long to go and thought I had a pretty good idea of what to expect. Never in my dreams would I have imagined the magic of the playa and its participants. Simply. Amazing.
On one random bike ride I found myself near Terminal City. My husband was chatting with some campers from M.A.S.H asking about the camp. As he chatted, this little booth caught my eye across the street. I saw art work of all shapes and sizes and colors attached to this chicken wire booth. It suddenly dawned on me as I walked closer what I was looking at. The name “AntiM,” from all my years of eplaya lurking flashed through my mind as I looked at all of the beautiful little treasures waiting for new homes. My mouth dropped because I remember many times thinking what a wonderful idea this was and here I was standing in front of it. It brings tears to my eyes as I write this because it was such a powerful moment for me. The awestruck moment my virgin year at Burning Man wasn’t from seeing The Man, The Temple, or a huge art installation, as incredible as they are, it was a little booth I'd read about, made of chicken wire covered in little creations that finally made me realize, “I’m here.”
Sigh. It was a perfect moment.
. . . about once an hour, to the Driver of the World's Best Box Truck. (Often followed by some chanting, or singing.) And then when I'm there: "I can't believe I'm here!"
home!
