This is so sad--I'm so very sorry,
greggscycles. Trent's story was also on the local news tonight, not 15 minutes ago.
I recognize those photos, and have realized that
Trent posted here.
Trent made a beautiful post in the
Alright, Let's Hear the Best and Worst from 2012 thread. What an amazing post he made. So many Bests. So few Worsts. An artist and an optimist, from the looks of it; a man who knew to create fun and light and beauty. One of his worsts he even classified as a "best". Sounds like he knew how to live, and made the most of it. I wish I'd met him.
Thufir Hawatt wrote:Bests: Arriving at 2:30 A.M. on Thursday pre-event, heading to center-camp to get our bearings, and finding well-meaning but utterly worthless advice-filled folk whom wanted me to take their picture. Apparently this picture was a joke, we just never found out what that joke was supposed to be.
Being utterly annihilated by dust storms that same day. Getting caught out on the open Playa pre-event is not an experience I'd recommend for any but the most adventurous. I could feel the skin being flayed off of the backs of my knees, and there were giant-ass cranes driving around at high speeds. Utterly magical.
The amazing folks that I got to paint next to at the Center Camp Cafe wall. I usually paint rather slowly, so trying to paint something that was twice as large as anything that I'd attempted previously was daunting to say the least. Through all of the sleep deprivation, addled neurons, and self-doubt the artists on my side of the wall were there to keep me going. I believe that one of them was named Garrett and that he was camping with Fractal Nation, there was also a couple whom were working with spray cans and a gentleman whom threw up the quickest piece I've ever seen. When the rain began to fall on Saturday(?) evening we all began to laugh simultaneously, and I was HOME.
The gents whom came to offer us caffeine and snacks on Sunday early in the AM, to help us power through our murals. Your kind words will never be forgotten.
Getting a chance to display my art to thousands of people. Though I wasn't entirely satisfied with how it turned out other folks seemed to enjoy it, and that's what it's about.
Watching the city go up ,seemingly, over night.
Seeing my friends pull into camp after four days of severe deprivation. SOOOOOOOOO many hugs were issued.
All of the wild folks whom came by the bar and offered up interesting experiences.
Our neighbors at Alternative Energy Village were incredibly gracious, and several came over to thank us for being good neighbors. 7 and F was a fantastic place to be this year.
Discovering I was actually a decent bartender.
FINALLY LETTING GO of my hang-ups about my personal appearance.
Getting dressed up by my camp-mates and dancing (for the first time in all of my life) at Opulent Temple with a few beautiful women. As a recovering member of the hardcore/metal community this was a revelation.
Developing this incredibly powerful wanderlust that now consumes my every waking moment.
The advent of the 'No Unicorn Left Behind' policy, and the (un)fortunate creation of the term 'Scary Playa'. Scary Playa led to the best ten hours of my life. We packed ten years into ten hours, and love was born.
Not watching the temple burn. That was far too amazing a structure to watch go up in flames.
Leaving baggage from previous relationships in poem form on the temple, was a tear inducing catharsis that I've needed for the past couple of years.
All of the amazing people whom made this the most incredible experience of my existence to this point, but next year is always better right?
Our neighbors Tom and Casey were incredibly gracious and kind.
The DPW gentleman whom offered us the use of heavy equipment pre-event if we needed it. That dude was rad.
Running into the one random person from last year that myself and my camp mate really wanted to, and discovering that we had more in common than just brewing amazing beer.
The look in a first-timers eyes when they were truly beginning to 'get' it.
Not letting the event book rule my days.
Being a contributor to the experience for so many, and feeling like a true Burner. Black Rock City holds me captive.
Worst:
Leaving. Decompressing.
The constant and unending fear that our monkey-hut was going to collapse pre-event.
Watching creepy dudes try to take advantage of severely inebriated half-naked women.
The ridiculous amount of glow MOOP. I swear I picked up fifteen pounds worth of expired glow stick wristbands. Watching people put them in the spokes of their bikes was also thoroughly depressing.
My bike disintegrating the day before the event started. As a bike-shop employee I was kind of ashamed. It was free, and getting around on foot isn't as arduous for me as it seems to be for a lot of folks. So I guess this could go into the bests as well.
See you next year Black Rock City!
viewtopic.php?f=69&t=61183&p=893906#p893906It looks like he had an astounding Burn.
I'm so sorry he's gone.
...................................................
