all of it, all at once

lately i’ve been seeing shadows out of the corner of my eye. its not a hallucination. its a feeling of being watched. I used to check to make sure there was nothing there but now i just accept that there isn’t or that there is but i cannot see it. I feel like it is myself in some form. Something watching me to make sure that I have not lost myself. That I am still there

i feel the rush to capture it all. Like taking plates or groceries all in one trip. In life its never one trip. you can never see your faults/strengths at the time of their occurrence. Whether or not your hands bleed from the pressure of the plastic bags or whether or not you drop it all in one attempt to make it to the dish pit. It is more important to have done something improperly then to have never done it at all. It doesent have to happen all at once. It doesn’t have to be live or die. Its enough for it to happen at all. I mourn the loss of all the beautiful things I could have done, the person I could have been, the things I could have discovered about myself.

i cannot escape the lions jaw. I can never be free of myself. I want to leave my nervous tics behind me. I want to stop cringing when I shut my eyes. I want to be the person I am in my dreams. The warrior who meets his destiny.

there is neither welcome in the end nor reason to return again. I fear death and I fear the choices that I have made. I fear that they will be my downfall. Whether they are or not I will meet them with a brazen heart and it will all be okay.

It is okay to be this way and this is the only way I can be

autocomplete me

what pho doesen’t cure there is no cure for. this is true for hangovers, illness and other general feelings of unwellness. one thing is pho sure though and that is there is no cure for a broken heart. i’m not saying i have one right now but maybe i do. the only person who can break my heart right now is myself… perhaps this is true in all cases of the broken heart.

I find reaching out to someone in the “i saw you”s a true representation of twenty first century romanticism. I read today about a young man on a bus who shared a moment with another man. he cast his feelings to the internet then subsequently the georgia straight in hopes that they will be returned. he asks this person for whom his heart aches  to meet him again on the bus next saturday at three.

I picture this man holding this hope close to his heart for the whole week. I see him timing his bus ride exactly to the second and i feel his heart sinking when the bus rolls past the crowded stop, which to him, might as well be empty. this is the hearts spell. these little hopes that hold so much weight in our chests. its like a note in a glass bottle in a calm sea. it drifts slowly, unlikely to reach for whom it is destined. I think in some way we are all doing this. I do it all the time. I’m doing it right now. I did it today when I had spicy beef soup by myself in a restaurant.

i leave school early because i cant stop staring at the beautiful day outside. I walk my usual path home but stop aprubtly at the line in the middle of the busy road that seperates the sun from the shade. I turn around and walk facing the sun.

I walk this charmed thoroughfare only to have the sun disappear behind the tall buildings. I chart a path through ugg boots and coach purses and people yelling into their phones to remain in the days embrace.

I walk with my jacket folded tightly across my chest with a cigarette from a stranger held tightly between my fingers. Wind pulls a tear from my eyes and stretches it across the width of my cheek. I can feel the skin tighten along the flesh that it passes over. I smile.

No matter which route I parse i cant always have the sun to my back. I cant always see my shadow stretch out before me. I must eventually adopt the shade.

with the billions of people on this planet i ponder our singularity. how many others are bewitched by the early spring days? how many others listen to love songs in vietnamese soup restaurants? how many others look for signs of hope in the google autocomplete search inputs?

however unlikely it is that the bottle reaches its destined reader it would be a shame to not cast it to the swell. for ever calm day at sea there is a squall and with any luck at all that squall will push that bottle where it needs to go. and why not? in this rediculous experiment that is life with all its twists and turns there is wonder here. there is a reason sea shells are curved just so and the planets orbit the sun, just so.

but then again perhaps there is not.

truly the romantic and the fool walk the same if not very similar paths…

disclosure vs anonymity

i’m sure some of you may have noticed that i have split my online identity. i have done this for a few reasons. The first being i am now on a career path that is solely internet based. my future colleagues and employers will undoubtedly use social networking to gather information about me and make decisions on who i am. the second is i’m tired of censoring my self. i like to write and part of my writing style is to practice full disclosure and honesty. this for obvious reasons could be detrimental to my future careers. the last reason is i feel this is a good test for people who actually want to know me and don’t just want one extra internet popularity point.

so how is this going to work?? in theory i will only have my family and and professional relationships on one account and everything else on the other. how does this change the way you interact with me on the internet?? it doesn’t really… you may continue to post scandalous and questionable things on my facebook wall… only now my mom wont get to experience the vulgarities and indecencies that are part of my life.

hopefully i will not damage any relationships by doing this and most of the friends that i had on my old facebook account will seek me out on my new account. if not… oh well.

happy 2011 everyone

 

too hot, too dusty and way too loud pt 2.

At burning man you don’t light yourself up with sparkly glow items and flashing doo dads to make a fashion statement. you do it because if you don’t you are going to get flattened by a speeding bike or an art car. when you look across the playa at night its like looking at an expanse of multicoloured, erratically moving stars. some moving slowly just bobbing a long, some are moving very quickly in small packs and some are shooting massive lasers and fire. My favourite light of all though is the long line of balloons filled with LED lights. Someone told me that it is in fact the biggest piece of art in the world. The balloons are attached to a vehicle that drives around the playa. Sometimes the other end is grappled to a motorcycle to curve them around. It is absolutely amazing. At night they also shoot giant lasers across the length of the playa. This does two things. It lights up the sky and it also shows you how long and flat the playa is because you can see the curvature in the light beam which no doubt is due to the curvature of our planet.

Tuesday:

I remember asking Sally “Is it too early in the festival to put on my Daisy Dukes?” she replied “No, is it too early in the festival for nipple pasties?” It’s never too early for nipple pasties… EVER

Upon entry to the event everyone is handed a map, a sticker, a guidebook called the who what where when and a few other doo dads. The Who What Where When is your guide to everything that is happening at all the various theme camps and stages throughout the Burn. Breakfast camp did different themed pancake breakfasts every morning. Tuesday morning happened to be “Plaid Pancakes”. Like any self respecting Canadian i came well prepared for this. The girls and I donned our plaid and some name tags that read “Plaid to the Bone, Bad and Plaid and Plaidypus”. If you participate in breakfast camp’s theme they will let you cut in line. We polished off some pancakes and some bacon and then wen’t on a massive art car tour.

There is really nothing like getting drunk on a modified gas powered golf cart thats blasting disco with like 8 awesome people speeding through the desert drinking ice cold beer. Thanks to the slutty blue tube (a waterproof sack that we filled with ice and beer. It was spencer and I’s best friend the whole time) we enjoyed icey cold Tecates and PBRs for the duration of the festival. The day carried on much like this for a while. We cruised and drank cruised and drank. We met up with the JGD folks and partied with moustaches on for a while. They were very impressed with my fake moustache repair kit that i brought along with me (Spirit gum, Fake moustaches and Spirit Gum Remover) and I was quickly accepted as one of their kin. Sally got married to a gay man at the Lolly Pop Guild’s marriage tent. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that her new husband was gay. I think deep down she knew it somehow but just could not bring herself to face the truth. They both looked beautiful in their dresses.

We were inspired by all the beautiful people around to have a contest to see who could bring the hottest guys and the hottest girls back to our camp to cook for. Spencer and Adrienne were one team Sally and I the other. Sally and I talked to a lot of hot guys and invited them back. I got a little bit nervous when i was talking to some and forgot to tell them what our camp name was and only gave them the address so i think thats why we didn’t get as many suitors as we had hoped. We did convince a group of French men to come back however but they didnt show till long after dinner. They did bring wine with them and a joint though. Sally and I won by default and we may have cheated by dropping hints of a menage a trois…

The french men took us to this crazy tent where there was a live song and dance performance a few times a night called “This is not a show”. I assure you as much as it looks like a show and sounds like a show it was not a show. This place was bananas. I’m pretty comfortable with crowds but i felt pretty claustrophobic in there. One of the french guys started to get fresh with Sal so we left and went to Nexus which is the biggest most elaborate stage at burning man. It was okay but we weren’t really digging the music and by this time we were pretty tired. We climbed around on the chains and the monkey bars and did some pole dancing and then retired to bed. Tomorrow was when things started to really heat up so we retired to prepare for the gong show that awaited us.

Wednesday:

Today was the day that I would meet up with Tullia and Tyler my friends from Vancouver. They had left a note at my camp the day before telling me where they were camped so I told my fellow Pillow Punchers that i was going on a mission to find them. BJ Weiner was heading out in the art car so we all wen’t together. Another blissful day working on my tan atop the art car drinking beer watching the tiny white fluffy clouds get obliterated by the suns heat. We zeroed in on where Tyler and Tullia were camped which strangely enough was right beside the Wigwam we took shelter with and our friends from Gerlach. Pretty crazy coincidence. I stood atop Disco City and started looking around when i heard “Is that Danny?”. Out of a small camp with a few tents came my two friends. Its always nice to have people so happy to see you. I was smothered in hugs and kisses for a few minutes. it didnt take the two much convincing to join us on our art tour.

It was really nice to have Tullia and Tyler in our group. I have known Tullia for years. She is a professional partier and always a good time. Tyler I just met at Shambhala but we were instant friends. I remember him saying “How do we not know each other?” its weird because we have a lot of the same friends. We combined forces for the duration of the festivities and turned an already tuned in party team into a force to be reckoned with. After a few hours of cruising around drinking and catching up we went back to camp to prepare for the Apres Ski Party at camp Time of Your Life which would be one of best times all weekend. Sally dawned her pretty white dress and her cross country skis and we took turns skiing to the party. I was not a very good playa skier at first. It definitely takes some getting used to. We had ski passes and pins that read “Be aware, Ski with care” and we were all wearing our snowboard goggles. I remember kicking myself for not buying this bad ass ski jacket that i saw at Mintage on commercial drive when i was shopping for burner apparel. Oh well i’ll know for next year.

We rolled up to a rather large and brilliantly decorated rebar geo-dome complete with an ear shattering sound system. TOYL was a loud and an amazing time. AC and Vinyl Ritchie spun mostly 45s (which is so sweet) and we got down to some funk soul and rock until the sun wen’t down. TOYL was chock full of Canadian and American Ski Enthusiasts dressed up in their slope attire, drinking vodka lemonades that were kindly supplied by the camp. There were Shot-skis, a fake snow machine, some skis and boots for photo ops and of course Sally’s downhill skiing lessons. After a few hours of party revelry we packed up our skis and made the long ski home. My playa skiing had improved greatly the second time around and we were home in about 45 minutes.

Tonight was the night. White night to be exact and also the most bad ass line up i have ever seen. The Entheon village was located literally next door to Camp Pillow Punch which gave us a huge party vantage point. We didn’t have to carry anything around or watch any of our stuff because we could be back at camp in 2 minutes. Entheon village was host to (in this order) Heyoka, Opiuo, Vibesquad and An-ten-nae at sun rise. I love ALL OF THESE GUYS and have seen them all except for Opiuo. So we ate, drank, i dropped some acid and we partied our asses off.

The Entheon Village was not a big stage by any means but the sound and atmosphere were incredible. It was a round circular tent with lasers shooting everywhere and was intimate but inclusive. There wasnt really a stage per se but rather a small platform that anyone could go on or behind. I was literally partying right behind my favourite DJs all night. As the hallucinogens started to do their thing nostalgia and elation set in. Acid has this way of making you feel that all the stars have aligned, that you are an important part of the universe and you are where you are meant to be. There were lasers shooting every direction from the central support pole which you can imagine looked pretty cool right about then.

I couldn’t help but think about Kyle and Katrina two of my best friends back in Vancouver. I wish i could have pointed at the lasers with Durose and be all like “WHOA!!!” and i wish i could see Katrina with her bassface on.  I wish they could have seen what i was seeing. I tried to take a few pictures but they were just blurry red messes because i was trippin too many balls figure out my SLR (another reason to bring a point and shoot).

I saw Vibesuad probably 5 times over the week and every single time was amazing and a different show. Entheon village was my favourite though. It was so intimate and a bit off the beaten track for sound stages so only people who knew what was up were there. Opiuo was also amazing. He played the best glitch hop set i have ever heard and really got the crowd warmed up. An-ten-nae played sunrise and by then most of the people had cleared out to go to white procession. We hung out as long as we could before we had to don our white fur, mount our bikes and race to the temple for the white procession.

Riding as fast as I could through the cool morning air to the temple was surreal. The sky was a steely blue and you could almost see the sun behind the mountains as we arrived at the temple. All the participants were dressed in white and the mood was somber. The temple wore a halo of blue balloons and was accompanied by the most epic and loudest art car on the playa. The golden dragon.

There was a gathering of people, some talks and some crazy choreographed dancing all with the golden dragon pumping out a glitchy soundtrack. Because i am a reluctant hippy and sometimes have a hard time buying into all the peace love and unity stuff i kind of had a hard time taking the peace circle and white procession picture seriously. I remember snickering at a unapologetically emotional white clad burner sporting  a huge flag that said “Dream”. My crew didn’t get why i found it so funny. Katrina would have recognized how cliche a huge white dream flag is amongst a sea of white washed hippies.

ANYWAYS…

The golden dragon is not only insanely cool but it is deafeningly loud and ridiculously huge. I think its made out of a bus and the top of it is a huge stage. So there we were all dressed in white, reeking of nostalgia surrounded by beautiful white clad burners watching Ill Gates play on top of the golden dragon. I could not stop smiling and could not imagine how this morning could get any better and then Vibesquad got on the decks. A M A Z I N G…

There truly is nothing like cracking beers at dawn surrounded by amazing people laughing and dancing without a care in the world. Its pretty rare that i can stay up all night getting hammered only to get hammered again at dawn without worrying about some sort of professional or social repercussion. I remember thinking how good it is to be alive and how i know that i’ll look back at this morning and always feel the warm sun on my face and the cool breeze through my hair. So why do we do this? why do we gather in masses and listen to loud music and dress like freaks and dance and make art and play? Because we can. Because we are free and because we are human. It is our right and our nature to celebrate the wonder that is our existence and what a joy it is to share it with each other.

Its hard to remember sometimes when we are in our day to day that we are still just animals on a spinning rock in the sky. its even harder to remember that our lives are short and that probably this is our only shot to do what we want. Sally said to me that burning man is not just a week long. The magic that you create at burning man exists everyday and everywhere but its up to you to see it. If you have some heavy shit to let go of why wait till the temple burns once a year? build your own temple every day and burn it.

Around 9 in the morning Sally decided that there was no time like the present to make and hand out sketchy breakfast burritos to starving burners and drink Sailor Jerry’s straight from the bottle. We headed back to camp and ended up sleeping till noon.

Thursday

What goes up must truly come down. I slept until noon, helped cook a little bit and then crashed again around 2. I felt guilty for missing the untold amounts of fun happening outside of our camp but the bean bags were too comfortable and i was content. Well, almost. The annoying 16 year olds that somehow found their way to camp pillow punch were driving me mental. At the risk of sounding like a party elitist these kids had no idea what was up and no concept of respect for the people around them. I managed to sleep through most of their droning about whatever 16 year olds drone on about at burning man but they managed to kick my feet every 5 minutes or so. This pissed me off to the point that i got up.

I did what any Prince George party monster would do. I went to the booze bath and cracked open my bottle of Sailor Jerry’s and fastened my daisy dukes. Sally and everyone were looking just as refreshed as I was (har har) so we shot the shit and then decided to make some dinner. This dinner would go down in history as one of the funnest times I have ever had cooking. Basically our dinner consisted of us grilling hot dogs and buns and heckling people drunkenly as they walked by.

it wen’t a little something like this, ahem:

“GET YOUR DICKWICHES, ALL THE WAY FROM CANADA (which wasn’t true we bought them at Fred Meyer)!!! FRESH HOT CANADIAN MEAT!!!”

Once our customers had collected their dickwich i then told them:

“Now have a shot of Sailor Jerry’s, you don’t have to but I recommend it” or “Have some rum, it’d be rude not to”.

Surprisingly this made us a lot of friends. One of these friends would be our host for the following evenings cuddle workshop. He called himself Naked because he was naked most of the time. We met him clothed but that was the last time i saw him with his clothes on. Naked was one of the more inspiring and interesting people I met at the Burn. Not only was he extremely attractive but he had made his way in the world by doing two of the most unorthodox jobs I had ever heard of. The first being a cuddle therapist and the second being a male stripper. Despite the latter career choice he was a very charming, intelligent, sensitive and caring young man and one hell of an entrepreneur. That sounds judgemental. I don’t mean to say that male strippers are not intelligent or charming but… I’m digging myself a hole here.

ANYWAYS… Dickwiches were eaten, rums were drank and stimulants were ingested so off we went to see some music. Not going to lie, after the Entheon Village Thursday night was a little lacklustre. We did manage to catch An-ten-nae again as well as Vibesquad and Freq Nasty at the Tower of Babel. The Tower of Babel is an EXTREMELY cool stage. However, it leaves a lot to be desired in the intimacy category. It is essentially a huge screen that is being projected on with the DJ in the middle and it is CRAZY LOUD. It is mesmerizing to look at because it is often times being illuminated with psychedelic videos and images. The coolest thing about it though is when they shine darker images on it you can see through it to the crazy party that is happening on the inside. I’m talking aerial silks, gold lame body suits, contortionists, acrobats. It was pretty awesome! We were all still a little beat from the night before so we turned it in pretty early. Me and Spencer managed to get our hands on some weed so we sat in front of the fire, chilled out and smoked some weed which was much needed and sent me on my way to one of the better sleeps I had all week. Good thing too, cuz i was going to need it.

Friday

Another day in party paradise. We rose, we cooked, I drank and we art toured. Today we wound up back at Time of Your Life for their margarita party. I watched my friend Jason spin records with Dusty of Roots Sellers MCing and it was AMAZING!!!

On our way back we saw one of our favourite performance pieces. There was a large crew of people dressed as construction workers “working” on the road. They all had beers in hand, many were smoking, many of them had their ass cheeks hanging out and ALL of them had the surliest of dispositions. They would purposely get in the way of traffic and then yell at people to “SLOW DOWN!!! SAFETY FIRST!!!” They were digging pot holes instead of fixing them while spitting and swearing loudly. They were all clearly drunk as fuck. We were awestruck. It was hilarious to see everyones reaction to it. Most people were annoyed because they didn’t get it but for those of us that did we could not stop laughing.

I also participated in a mouth washing clinic named WHORE. Couldn’t remember exactly what that stood for but it was clever! They had stickers and a huge banner and everything. Basically a man dressed like a nurse (as far as dudes with beards in drag goes he looked pretty good) and another guy put mouthwash in my mouth through this elaborate machine similar to the mouse trap board game. it was quite impressive.

When night fell it was time for the cuddle workshop that we promised Naked we would attend. So me and five other people from our camp climbed onto some dusty mattresses with a few other randoms and talked about cuddling and how to cuddle platonically. It was pretty interesting. We talked about how most people immediately associate cuddling with sex and so it makes a lot of people nervous. Sally of course got stuck with the weirdo with the cuddling issues. I cuddled with some peeps and then Tyler and I decided that it was party time so we headed off to the Temple of Boom.

The Temple of Boom lives up to its name. It is two HUGE towers of speakers with Tiki faces on top. It had a military style theme and it had a few different areas that you could dance under.

We me this weird mushroom dude tried to make friends with me and Sally. Sally had her back up about this guy right away and I was all like “Sally are you serious? This mushroom means us no harm.” but she was right. The guy was weird he kept asking us what we were on (which is my least favourite question, who cares?) and what we were doing. He was wearing a J Crew sweater (at burning man…) and Sally was convinced he was a Narc. We lost him eventually and then picked up something MUCH more intense but way cooler. Kate.

Oh Kate. When I first met Kate I didn’t like her. She was wearing some sexy underwear with a huge cheshire cat tail pinned to them a top hat and a bra. The awesome thing about her is she wasn’t really attractive but she didn’t look bad either. She was funny but I couldn’t figure out why and I could barely understand a damn word she said. I thought she was Australian but turns out she was from England somewhere. Anyways, the long and the short of it is we picked her up and brought her with us for a day and a half. Kate and Tyler sat down and she immediately passed out on him for like an hour and a half. Tyler was good hearted about it at first (she was passed out ON him) but after an hour and a bit his legs were getting tired. It took us a few good solid efforts of yelling at her and shaking her before she came too. She immediately requested a drink and a joint and when she found out we didn’t have either she hopped on her bike with Spencer and headed back to her camp. PG to the core.

The Temple of Boom was going off. Mimosa SLAYED IT playing some kind of crazy crunked up dub step that I have only ever dreamed of. It was definitely one of the most memorable sets all weekend. Up next was Freq Nasty who was okay but his sound was vanilla compared to Mimosa. Then it was Elite Force who played some intense breaks that reeked of old school warehouse raves and Finally Kraddy took the decks and tore it down for sunrise. I had taken some LSD earlier but I think I had drank too much for it to be effective so before dawn I took another. By the time Kraddy was on the decks the sun was rising and I have never seen such a beautiful sunset in my life. I’m not going to go on to describe my acid trip but lets just say when you take a beautiful thing and then add a rainbow hallucinogenic filter on it its pretty amazing. We partied, oh how we partied.

Saturday Morning was a mess! We had made several trips back to the camp while we were at the Temple of Boom so needless to say we were pretty shit faced. I’m also pretty sure that i drank the majority of this guys bag of rose wine. He made me slap it every time i took a drink. I must have slapped that bag like 30 times. We were all feeling pretty shameful in our attire from the evening before so we decided it was time to go home, change and then venture forth.

We started what would be the longest walk of shame/bike ride back to camp ever. It was long mostly because Kate was on foot but also a lot because of how fucking wasted we were. We started to cheers crash-to-pass biking. We’d cheers our beers and high five on our bikes with varying degrees of success. There were a few times where we wound up limbs twisted around bikes twisted around limbs laughing hysterically. I was exultant at how acting like a complete asshole is not only condoned at the Burn but it is celebrated. People were digging our steeze.

Our Saturday morning/afternoon was eloquently dubbed “The Asshole Convention”. We rode around doing bad things in obvious places all the while swearing loudly at each other and getting wasted. We drank and drank until we could not drink any more and then we passed out. I could hear Kate’s raspy english Courtney Love voice entertaining our camp but when i awoke she was gone. We never saw her again. Part of me was relieved and part of me was deeply saddened.

Saturday PM:

When i awoke there was a flurry of excitement in the air. It was burn night. Everyone was prepping themselves for the apex of the event. I felt a little underdressed. Everyone pulled out elaborate furry costumes with all sorts of animal bones and other sparkly accessories. I wore the same thing that i wore for the last week. Oh well, lesson learned. Bring fur next time! We had steaks which i wasn’t sure i was stoked for considering how I just woke up from a sixteen hour drinking rampage. I kind of wanted a bowl of cereal and a fruit smoothie but you take what you can get. The steak was amazing and actually fixed me right up.

We rode our bikes to the Man and eagerly awaited that man to burn. It was madness! Everyone was so hyped up and strung out and ready to see that bitch burn to the ground.  Imagine 60 000 + people all crammed into a few square kilometers all drunk as hell while an army of art cars blast every type of music all at once. It was insanity. We got drunk (weird hey?) and just before they started burning the man there was a HUGE dust storm. Dust, fire, fireworks, explosions constant cheering. Its not like they just light the thing on fire and walk away. They light it up with jet fuel and fireworks and then party till its a pile of rubbel. They rope of the perimeter around the man so no one can run in and get burnt but even from far back you can still feel the heat.

When we had enough of dusty fire blowing in our face we regrouped. We stocked up on booze and headed to roots underground. I don’t remember too much of this night. I remember me and Spencer mixing warm and dirty rum and cokes on the dance floor while he was blowing peoples minds with his laser shirt. Sally had bought some glow in the dark paint and painted a shirt with it. The affect was you could draw on the shirt with the right kind of laser. It was pretty awesome but short lived because he lost the laser (which is funny because it belonged to a guy at our camp that none of us liked very much). I remember dying of thirst, Adrienne and Spencer wen’t back to camp to get water but I couldn’t wait for them to get back. I actually think that I might have died if i didn’t get on my bike and rip back there and chug a whole bunch of water.

When we got back we arrived to a rather sobering scene. We walked around looking for our friends but couldn’t find them. We saw ambulance lights flashing in the distance and heard someone say “THE DEAD GUY IS OVER HERE!!!” the people around “the dead guy” were asking us if we knew him. I didn’t recognize him at first but when I took a closer look i realized it was Tyler. I kind of freaked out inside but I kept it pretty cool on the outside. I had grown pretty attached to my moustached friend and would be terribly upset if he was dead. We propped his head up and started calling his name and shaking him. Panic started to set in when he was unresponsive. He was breathing but not coherent. He came around (before the ambulances found us thank god) and he drank an entire camelbak of water.

We were all relieved but our sense of party was robbed from us by whoever slipped Tyler something in his drink. We headed home at an early hour but all rested soundly. Definitely the best sleep I had all week.

Sunday:

Everything seemed different on Sunday. On my way back to camp in the morning I got so severely lost that it took me over an hour to get back to camp when it usually only takes 5-10 minutes. This was due partly to my weeklong hangover that was setting in but mostly because the man was gone and so were the street signs. Burning Man can be a very confusing place to navigate but when you have the man as your reference point and then street signs to guide you its not so bad. Take those away and your left with just your sense of direction.

We spent most of the day Sunday packing up and taking down camp Pillow Punch and getting organized for our departure. We were leaving right after the Temple burn so there was a lot to do. The work wen’t by quickly and there was enough time for Tyler and I to drink the majority of a bag of wine at his camp. I was cold so I wen’t home to change and found some pretty exhausted looking camp mates. I remedied the situation with some Mocha Baileys Espresso Starbucks Vanilla Vodka Boozachinos, tomato soup and grilled cheese. We were all feeling pretty solemn which is often the theme for Sunday night when the temple burns.

The temple burning is meant to be a very pensive and introspective event. Its the time where you realize that your time at the Burn is over and its time to take what you’ve learned and leave behind what you don’t want. No one talks and there is no music. Just a lot of people watching the huge piece of art burn. I felt blissed out. I came, I saw and I tore a new one. I met some amazing people and had a great time and experienced what must be the most insane party on the planet. When I looked around at the teary eyes of my friends I couldn’t help but get a little worked up. I think i was wearing Spencer’s fur coat with no shirt on and some pants and ski goggles on my head. I remember thinking that in a few days i was going to have to put on a tie again. Return to work and be part of everyday society. The days turn to hours and the hours to minutes so quickly sometimes. That freaked me out so i drank some Jim Beam right out of the bottle.

Having the people who you love and with whom you have just spent a difficult but amazing week with all standing in silence simultaneously letting go of all the negative shit in their lives is a powerful feeling. I remember Tyler putting his arm around me and looking at me with those pretty, glossy eyes and smiling. I smiled back. I was happy to be beside him. I realized that I have some of the greatest friends in the world. It is a blessed thing and I wouldn’t trade those crazy jerks for anything. When the temple had burned everyone left. We climbed aboard disco city and wen’t back to camp to say our heartfelt goodbyes. Before I knew it I was standing in my crazy messy apartment, heart racing and completely manic.

Burning man has haunted my day and night dreams ever since. I dream about Burning Man the way I used to dream about Shambhala. I think about watching the the scenery roll by in the RV and how nice it was to be cruising through America without a care in the world. I think about how beautiful the playa looks at night with the huge lasers and the LED balloons and the infinite twinkly lights. I think about how awesome it is that we live in a world where people can get together and celebrate life in anyway that they choose. I think about how good it felt to have the sun shining on my face and the playa dust in my hair. Its been 2 months and I’m still finding playa dust. I’ve been through a lot in the last year, not unlike the years before it. Burning man was an excellent exclamation point on the wishy washy sentence that was my year. It was exactly what I needed to reaffirm my place on this planet and what I wanted to do.

A friend said to me recently that the fall is the time of change. Change of seasons and change of ones path. Its the true new years. Burning Man has taught me a lot of important lessons. One of the most important being that I get too caught up in shit that doesn’t matter and what people who don’t matter think about me. Life is too short to worry about that bullshit. I think in honour of that i’m going to put the sad songs away for a while and go enjoy this beautiful fall day.

See you next year Burning Man.

too hot, too dusty and way too loud (1/2)…

I have never been so happy to see the wreckage of the closet that is my apartment. I just carried 24 beers, two boxes of wine and probably 50 pounds of dusty burner crap up the four flights of stairs to my humble abode. I am exhausted, elated and completely manic. It feels bizarre sitting on my bed alone after being surrounded by 75 000 of the craziest mother fuckers on the planet.

Burning Man as a culture is a hard thing to put your finger on or describe in any way besides an exercise in hyperbolic self-expression. It is difficult to define a society that is constructed of countless other societies. Burning man is the Hajj of  anti-conventionalism. It is climbing the Himalayas of creativity.It is a pilgrimage in its own right and its significance, however uncouth, unholy and unwashed cannot be ignored.

I was asked “was it everything you expected it to be?”. the short and sweet of that is no. it cannot be expected. it is impossible to fully experience burning man. It’s too big and too faceted for one person to even scratch the surface so expecting anything of it would be pointless.

Burning Man as an event has no nationality. I met people from all over the world at Burning Man who came specifically to wear their furry boots and underwear while walking on stilts, talking shit and blowing bubbles (seriously). From what i observed BM culture is as infinite as the playa is dusty. Its a big fuck you to consumerism, conformity and conventionalism. It is to look a person in the eye and be all like “this is who I am and fuck you if you don’t like it”.  Where Woodstock was built on peace and love, burning man is built on getting drunk and drive by shooting guns at targets and blowing shit up. BM has no focus and it has no meaning. Its idea is to bring what you have, show it off for a week and then burn it or take it with you while expecting nothing in return.

Before i get into a Synopsis of my experience i would like to talk about the people that made the experience what it was. My burner family. I made the voyage to BRC with three of the most amazing people I know. Ms. Sally O Mally, Grand Pubah Spencer and Playa Princess Adrienne Elizabeth. When we arrived we joined the illustrious Camp Pillow Punch coordinated by Amy and Brian Weiner.

I have known Sally for only a few years and she has quickly become one of my favourite people in the world. Sally is a truly unique and beautiful soul. She has a knack for talking and relating to people and everyone that meets her instantly falls in love with her. How could you not? She is the full package. Beauty, brains an acute sense of humanity. Sally IS Burning Man. It is an environment where she thrives and I was honoured to be able to share my first experience there with her.

THANK GOD FOR SPENCER!!!! Spencer is someone you can always depend on to get stuff done. He drove our 30ft beast there and back like a pro without a word of complaint and when we got there he showed me how it was done. Spencer also likes to drink like i do. A lot. Me and him and the slutty blue tube were the drinking dream team. Mixing drinks on the dance floor at Roots Underground and bike cheersing smash to pass was one of my favourite moments. Spencer kept me alive with his delicious meals and amazing driving and my experience wouldn’t have been the same without him.

Adrienne Elizabeth. The Playa Premadonna. Another full package. She has her masters in Genetics… AND PARTYING!!! She kept it real while keeping it clean in both senses of the word. She barely drank but she was out every night partying like a rock star and was a vision while doing it. I really enjoyed getting to know Adrienne more over the festival. Adrienne has a sense of youthful wisdom about her that is refreshing and energizing. Adrienne’s life is and will continue to be a beautiful success story.

I was a very fortunate Virgin Burner. Not only did I not have to stick it out in a tent in the middle of the blazing hot desert for my first year but I was fortunate enough to be taken under the wing of the incredibly organized and generous Amy and Brian Weiner. I just met the Weiners at BM and instantly felt accepted by their tribe. Brian brought all the supplies needed for a kick ass theme camp as well as a ballin’ art car that he was kind enough to let me ride on throughout the festival. Amy is not only a knockout but she is also one of the funniest people I met at BM. The girl knows how to put a costume together and have a good time. Her and Brian are an amazing team and I am very grateful to have met them and be a part of their camp. Camp pillow punch killed it. Princess, Doug and Flo, Kris, Fabricio, Gypsy, Dr. Gonzo and everyone else were an amazing part of my experience.

The trip down was the only part of my “Vacation” that i would have deemed relaxing. Because Adrienne and I were not on the insurance for the RV (and for our lack of 30ft vehicle driving experience) the only thing we were expected to do was sleep, mix drinks, and prepare ghetto canapes. I am amazing at all of these things. We stopped at Subway in the morning for some breakfast sandwiches and i ran into the 7 11 to grab some smokes. I was pleased to see that they not only sold alcohol but CHEAP and GOOD alcohol. Naturally I bought an oversized bottle of Carlo De Rossi Chablis to get our morning started off right. I was drunk and then hung over by 1pm.

We said goodbye to showering when we left Chiliwack but were pleasantly surprised when we pulled in to an RV park the first night. Not only did they have a beautiful shower room with great heat and water pressure but they also had a hot tub and pool. This was much needed after a hard day of drinking and sleeping.

As I floated on my back in the cool waters of the pool i wished upon the first star that I saw. I remember hearing that tingly sand against glass sound that the water sloshing against your inner ear makes. It sounds like a thousand tiny distant wind chimes tinkling in the wind. The vertigo of being weightless on my back sent waves of electricity through my nervous system. I remembered hoping that my burning man experience would lift me out of my current slump while I watched one star turn to many and dusk into night. When it was time to close the pool we all mad our way to bed refreshed and slept soundly. We rose early swearing to return to this unlikely oasis on the way back.

We stopped at a hot springs along the way. It was crawling with Burners and locals. One guy i will never forget. He regaled us with his tales of redneckery growing up in the small town not far from the springs. One of his opening lines was “Shot myself once” he pointed to a cigarette burn like scar on his stomach “Didn’t work, won’t do that again! Best part was was all the purdy nurses at the hospital that pumped me full o morphine”. He wen’t on to tell us about the time a cop beat him up with a flashlight because he called the cop a pig and told him that his mother was a “Lot lizard, twenty five cent gutter slut, trailer tumble weed” he seemed to understand why he got the beating. Something about this man was strangely zen. He explained to us to never think that you are bigger than you are or the great spirit will put a voodoo hex on you. Good advice. He asked us “Why would you ever want to go to that Burning Guy thing when you could sit here in the Hot Springs and drink?” It would be hard to explain to a man that had never left his county what would await him in Black Rock City so we just left that one alone.

Another day of driving passed and just before we rolled onto the playa we saw a few cars parked on the side of the road and a woman walking away from them. She was wearing a towel and had clearly just been in some sort of water body. We slowed down and she said “Hot Springs!”. We pulled over and descended the hill to see the most beautiful hot springs in the world. The springs were offensively named “Squaw Bath” and they were surrounded by fresh mint plants and Sunflowers. We arrived as the sun was setting and there were a few people just finishing up. They left us a few joints that Spencer and I anxiously smoked. We had both been whining about how much we would like to get baked. We smoked and drank and sat in the beautiful springs which were almost a little too hot until we had to leave.

and then we were there

Upon entry of the playa everyone around you is welcoming you home even if you have never been there before. It was around midnight when we approached the seemingly infinite winding line of tail lights heading onto the playa. Sally and I were crafting our light up parasols with some fibre optics that we bought at Michael’s and listening to Burning Man radio. The man on the radio was walking around interviewing people in line. Every once in a while he would say “if you are listening to this in line up now honk your horn!” and sure enough everyone would start honking. There was a sense of hysteria in the air, an “are we there yet???” feeling of impatience. My burner family kept dropping hints that something was going to go down when i got to the gate and before i knew it i was rolling around ass naked with 3 other BM virgins completely covered in playa dust. When told to strip i was pretty reluctant. i’m not super comfortable with being naked in front of other people but I have never regretted anything I have done only the things I haven’t so i went for it. It was cold, dusty and pretty embarrassing but what better way to welcome the playa then roll naked in it. That was my first experience at Burning Man and it was pretty uncomfortable but something i wont ever forget. Virgin burners be warned: if you come to BM with me next year i WILL make you roll naked in the dust.

The road to the play is lined with signs that together form poems. There must have been hundreds of them.

When we finally rolled into new home at 6:00 and Detroit we were pretty tired. Spencer and I went on a short art tour and then headed off to bed. We had a lot of set up to do in the morning.

Monday:

Around 9:00am we got up and started putting together what would be Camp Pillow Punch. I was a little nervous because I knew I was about to meet a lot of people. I cracked an ice-cold PBR, put on my combat boots and opened the door to a beautiful sunny day. Sally looked at me and laughed… probably because of the beer and she immediately took me around to meet people she had met from previous burns. Everyone was lovely and hardworking and we had the camp set up in no time complete with complex Alluminetti arrangements and of course our pillow fighting ring. In addition to this our camp also sported some carport/tent structures that would be our chill out space as well as our kitchen. I can’t stress enough how fortunate I was to be a part of this camp. Anyone who knows me knows that I am much more likely to fly by the seat of my pants then plan anything so I probably would have been screwed. Once the camp and pillow fight ring we set off on our bikes to see what the first day of the burn had to offer

The first thing i noticed about BM is how happy and beautiful all the people are. Burning man isn’t something you do because you have nothing better to do. Everyone who is there is there because they want to be and they have something they want to bring to the experience. Naturally I got pretty drunk the first day. We were having a blast riding around and seeing everything when we noticed some pretty crazy clouds looming on the horizon. No one I talked to had ever experienced rain on the playa but that was about to change.

Imagine a huge wall of dust flying towards you at 60km an hour and then imagine rain drops the size of blueberries slamming into the ground. Thats what rain is like on the Playa. Adrienne, Sally, Spencer and I were in the middle of nowhere riding through the downpour. The mud grew thicker and thicker on our tires and we were beginning to feel a bit stressed. Because of the serendipitous nature of BM we no doubt came upon a rather large TeePee (or Wigwam if you will). We ducked inside and chilled out for a while and drank some beers. We were later joined by a young lady, her son Loki and an older man named Steve. I am unsure of the relationship between the young family and the older man but they acted like family members. They were from Gerlach which is the closest town to Black Rock City. Gerlach is a town of only a hundred or so and they informed us that only about 10 of the locals attend the festival every year. We were fortunate to meet 4 of them. The young lady brought with her a texas mickey of tequila and poured our already drunk asses one of the stiffest drinks i have ever had. We hung out and drank our drinks (i believe i finished not only mine but Adriennes as well as to not be rude… and because i’m a fiend for the sauce) until the skies cleared. We stepped outside and were awestruck. Stretching across the playa was the most enormous and beautiful rainbow i have ever seen. It was in fact a double rainbow (seriously) with multiple layers of purple underneath the lower rainbow. It was absolutely amazing. i have never seen a double rainbow before nor have i seen a rainbow from end to end. Because the playa is so flat and so vast you could see the whole thing. Up until that moment i was unsure about how i was feeling at the event. I knew i was where i was supposed to be but was still processing the harsh environment and the limitless stimuli. Standing there with my haphazard burner family and our lovely and unlikely newfound local friends, looking at the most beautiful thing i have ever seen awakened a feeling of belonging within me. This is the magic of burning man. Synchronicities abound and if you make the right choices and have the right attitude and open your self to the limitless possibilities you will see and experience things that are not possible anywhere else. Adrienne took a photo that really captured the moment and it may be my favourite picture of all time.

ANYWAYS how could this day get any better right? Day one seeing the most beautiful thing i have ever seen in my life??? not bad. We said goodbye to our Gerlach friends and did our best to drive our bikes back to camp. We made it pretty far but the mud was so thick that we had to get off and walk. By this time the sun was getting low and it was time to make some dinner. We ate and headed out on a night excursion. The plan was to take it pretty easy. We had a big day and were all pretty hung over from the tequila drinks. We checked out a few stages but nothing was really catching our fancy so we pulled up at the Pagoda in the middle of the playa and had some drinks. Conversation was great there. We talked and laughed for hours until deciding to head out.

Monday was art car night. Because not everyone was there yet none of the art cars were full and being with two really attractive ladies helped getting on whichever one we wanted to. We told ourselves around midnight that we were heading home but we kept getting abducted and boozified by these monstrous contraptions until we were in the deep playa. One of my favourite cars was the one shaped like an old Wagon. It was reminiscent of the video game Oregon Trail. We were tickled to find out that the cars name was “Jimmys got dysentery”. Not only were these guys rocking the finest in glitch hop and dub step they were all moustache clad and VERY attractive. Everyone knows how i like a good moustache… JGD took us out to the large glowing, dancing woman and we stood in awe of her for an hour or so before deciding to head home… finally. No more art cars… straight home. So we hopped an art car that seemed to be going the direction of centre camp (this one was a huge dick shooting fire into the sky), drank some more, ended up further away from camp then started the long, drunk trek home.

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Because this article is getting very VERY long and I am eager to post SOMETHING on Burning Man i am going to make it a two parter. At 3000 words and probably only about half done i run a serious risk of losing interest if i make this any longer. Stay tuned for further BM stories including but not limited to: the most amazing line up ever at The Entheon Village, Dickwiches, the Apres Ski party, the White Procession, Temple of Boom, Golden Dragons and of course the burning of The Temple and The Man.

you’ll never die, you’ll never grow old…

when i shop i don’t like to get baskets or carts. the idea of buying enough stuff to fill a cart or a basket stresses me out. i always end up only buying as much stuff as i can carry. i try not to take plastic bags but i do take one ever week or so to put my garbage in. because of these neuroticisms and attention to my carbon foot print i am often found in line ups cradling a jenga-esque tower of tetra-pak goods and haphazardly placed produce. my heart beats like a jackhammer and is compromising the towers integrity.

i’m not nervous but i’m in high gear. when its business time the leader inside me comes out in full force. i make lists, i set deadlines, i make phone calls and i get shit done. The Burn is upon me and i crave the challenge.

Here’s the Cole’s notes on Burning Man:

• Burning man is not a rave “Burning Man is an experiment in temporary community, and one that is radically all-inclusive. Yes, this includes ravers. Be warned though: If your principal interest in our event is centered on the rave experience, and you won’t be happy unless you’re cozied up next to an extremely large speaker, Burning Man is probably not for you.”
• Burning Man is also an experiment in radical self reliance and survival. The “Playa” where burning man is held every year is some 4000 feet above sea level. It is a prehistoric lake bed with an alkali base that gets to around 40 degrees celsius by day and almost freezing by night. Because of the Playas elevation it is very dry and hot. Human skin burns in a quarter of the time that it would at sea level. It is surrounded by mountains and is the second largest flat surface in North America.
• The weather on the Playa changes by the minute. It can go from perfectly clear blue skies to complete white out dust storms in minutes. braving the elements is part of the burning man experience.
• There is no currency at Burning Man. The only things that can be bought are ice and coffee. all proceeds from these items go directly to the volunteers and towards maintenance of the Playa. The festival is about giving. you give things or you give of yourself. the participant is burning man and it is up to each participant to decide their level of participation.
• there are mutant vehicles, massive stages, monolithic art installations, and tens of thousands of people all sharing one mass populous for a week and a month after Burning Man there is nothing. The entire festival is built on the foundation of leaving nothing behind. (MOOP=Matter Out Of Place)

I am taking an RV with my good friends Sally and Spencer and a new friend Adrienne. We will part of a theme camp called Camp Pillow Punch. Our shtick is we organize and execute massive pillow fights throughout the day. i am very fortunate to be camping with some seasoned burning man veterans who will no doubt give me the low down on how to do the festival right. it excites and frightens me to be a noob at something and I desperately await the reality check.

god i’m in need of a reality check. i was asked the other day why i would ever want to do something like burning man. i don’t take offence by comments like this. it just highlights that people are built differently. if i am not challenged i am not happy or fulfilled. burning man is an adventure, a pilgrimage. it is taking yourself completely out of your life and your past experiences and putting you someplace new. someplace unforgiving and far far away from your comfort zone. it is in places like this  you truly learn about who you are and where you stand. it is places like this that you meet people who will challenge the way you think about things and it is places like this where people like me thrive.

burning man has been on my bucket list for years. i wanted to go every year but many of the people i wanted to share the experience with could not or would not make it happen. i told myself last year that i was going for sure, no matter what, no matter if i had to go by myself (thank god i’m not going by myself HAHA). you only have one chance at life and you have no idea who or where you’ll be in a year so whatever it is you want in life go for it. do it now and don’t wait for someone to hold your hand and help you because at the end of the day all you have is yourself.

its so hot that all the posters and chatchkas that i have fastened to my walls with tape and sticky tack are falling. one by one. pictures of friends that i dont talk to anymore loosen corner by corner until they fall and jack knife in the air before reaching the dusty ground of my apartment. the fruit flies are fluttering across my gaze which means i should probably take out the garbage and there are shopping bags and dirty clothes everywhere. i sigh. rome wasn’t built in a day and i have a lot of work before i’m ready for this trip. i’ll get there though. all in good time.

if i dont make it back from burning man i want to be buried in my Acne jeans and my Kerouac shoes. I prefer a wake to a funeral with no sad music. i’m thinking more of a wake/rave if need be (hopefully not). lots of flowers and champagne and a thousand doves released into the sky followed by Baraka style throat singing and dancing. IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK???

ahhhh i digress… the point is i’ll be probably be back in one piece in two weeks and can’t wait for the journey ahead of me.

to all my friends and family i love the shit out of you and i’ll talk to you in a few weeks.

the man with the kite…

its cloudy and the trees are green, i’m staring down a long driveway that ends at a grey house. the house is shrouded in deciduous trees and it is silent.

the garbage container is at the end of the driveway and if this were a friends house i would bring it in for them but i walk past it. i step lightly down the path creeping low to the ground. i can hear smashing and yelling coming from inside the house as i round the corner of a large garage. behind the house is a large open field and above the field a storm gathers.

the garage door is unlocked and i step inside. the room is unnaturally huge and is filled with cars, broken machinery and hundreds of chirping small birds. the noise almost over takes the yelling and smashing inside the house but not quite. i can still hear the maniacal screaming and cackling sandwiched between smashing glass and slamming furniture. i should be concerned for my own safety but instead all i can think about is the small birds. i have to get them out.

i open the doors and windows in hopes that the birds will find their way out, but they don’t. i manage to catch one in my hands, i rush to the window and pass the bird to the wind only for it to turn to a cat and fall to the earth. the cat looks at me, confused, and jumps back into the garage and immediately turns into a bird again. i try again and again but every time the cat jumps back inside to try and eat the birds. i remember thinking that i tried so hard. I grow weary and frustrated. greedy fucking cats would rather have meat then freedom… oh well atleast i tried. there are more pressing matters to attend to.

i open the door that leads into the house and i see him. hes screaming and throwing things against the wall, overturning chairs and tables, ripping lamps from their stands and hurling them about. hes crazy and hes angry. i knew him once but i dont anymore. i step inside the kitchen silently and i move guided with purpose to a small kennel with a terrified kitten inside. i fumble with the latch on the cage all the while listening to the madness in the living room and peering over my shoulder to watch my back. the kitten wont come to me and it hisses so grab it. it bites me and scratches me and i bleed but its okay. it doesent know that i’m helping it.

i back up towards the door, kitten shredding my hands, heart pounding in my chest and i push the door open. back into the garage with the chirping birds i run to the window. the kitten ceases to eat my hand and is looking at the birds, not with the ravenous look of the previous cats but with a look of understanding… of remembrance… i cast the kitten to the sky and it turns into a huge crow and flies away. the chirping stops and the birds, with flapping like gunshots, fly out the windows and doors and it is silent. even the screaming and smashing.

my work is done here. i crawl out the window and walk towards the fields. the storm is still gathering and the clouds are getting blacker and blacker by the minute. a flash of red in the distance catches my eye. a small fleck of red dances in the wind above the field a few hundred meters away. i am curious so i walk towards it.

at the top of a hill is a man and in his hands he holds a string and attached the string is a red kite and the red kite dances ever closer to the energy charged clouds. i gasp and run towards him.

“STOP STOP!!!! ARE YOU CRAZY??? YOUR GOING TO FUCKING DIE!” i scream as i approach the man… no response. “hello?” i offer… still nothing. I put my hand on his shoulder and try to turn him to face me but he doesn’t budge. i step in front of him and he is familiar to me. “DROP THE FUCKING STRING!!! ARE YOU TRYING TO GET YOURSELF KILLED?”

his voice rings solemn and and without doubt

let your freak flag fly…

Serotonin levels in the process of normalizing… Laundry situation going from critical to orderly… Sunny disposition coming and going. I am back from Shambhala, I have slept, ate and showered and I feel alive.

This years Shambhala was not my favourite by any means but it was a good time. With the festival this year came the realization that I am maturing and growing up. As i type those words i feel mournful. Things are changing for me and my friends… Most for the better i am sure but with change comes growing pains. I spent a good deal of my time at Shambhala looking for people and wishing they were around. I guess in some tripped out, thought-looped way i wanted to take moments from past shambhalas, replicate them and experience them one last time. Get one more glimpse of those amazing times. I guess thats kind of stupid though.

the thing about shambhala is its like a mini lifetime. You come, you set up camp, you experience the festival and then you go. Youre born, you live, you pass on. for good or bad it changes you. every year is completely different and every shambhala is different for every person. You learn things about yourself and about others. I have often said you don’t truly know someone till you party with them at Shambhala. It challenges your views on normalcy and your role in a society when “the norm” is erased. When the ideals and worldviews of others don’t matter so much the results are always interesting.

I guess thats why I enjoy shambhala. I like to observe people in their un-natural habitat. its true that many people go to simply get fucked up and dress like idiots but to many people its much more than that. There are vast sub-cultures of people that go to Shambhala for different reasons. You’ve got your ravers, spirit elves and fairy people, crazy party freaks, electronic music enthusiasts, world renowned music talent, fashionistas, bar stars, drug dealers and jersey shore denizens, drug addicts, dancers, new age religious leaders/followers etc etc etc. I have to admit that most of these people make me feel pretty uncomfortable/stabby but i respect their right to party for whatever reasons they see fit. If they want to worship the crystal ball in the Living Room or do acid till they wind up in the Sanctuary then have at ‘er.

I find myself oftentimes defending my interest in festival raving. i get a lot of “ewww youre a gross raver? why would you ever want to go to something like that?”

why would i choose shambhala as my annual party destination? Probably because i have the coolest group of talented, beautiful, hysterically wild crazy friends that anyone has ever met that thrive in that atmosphere. We all love to dance, dress up and listen to good music.

I also get a lot of “I hate techno so i wouldn’t enjoy shambhala”

the use of the word “techno” to describe hundreds of different music styles leads me to believe that these people know not the first thing about electronic music or music in general. If you enjoy listening to music then i am absolutely, positively sure that you would find something that you like at Shambhala. With 5 stages pumping out millions of kilowatts of tunes you would be hard pressed not to find SOMETHING to enjoy… unless you don’t like to dance… or have fun.

and then theres the “oh you must have just been stoned the whole time”. Maybe i was… Or maybe i spent the majority of my time drinking margaritas on the beach listening to DJs like Vinyl Richie spin classic rock on 45s working on my tan and laughing with my friends.

i guess what i’m trying to say is don’t knock it till you try it and if its not your thing thats cool, but shut the fuck up about it. Its really easy to sit back and listen to stories of Shambhalas past and look at pictures and make judgements. God forbid anyone would step out of their comfort zone and actually give something like that a try. I would say 90% of people that come back from Shambhala have the time of their lives. 10 000 ravers can’t be wrong. I personally would not enjoy Merritt Mountain Music festival but i wouldn’t look down on anyone who went. Its just not my scene.

Like i said it means different things to different people. To me its about community, friendship and music all in a stimulating, beautiful while oftentimes challenging atmosphere. My friends are my family and Shambhala is when we all get to hang out together and enjoy each others company. Its like a fucked up family reunion. This year unfortunately was a little lacking in that department which was heartbreaking and because of that i’m pretty sure that this years Shambhala will be my last. Driving away from the Bundsche family farm was cripplingly nostalgic and tear jerking. i was saying goodbye to an old friend and moving on from a big part of my life. No more lasers hitting disco balls, no more inflatable whales being passed around in packed dance pits, no more sketchy sunrises with my favourite people.

thats okay though. i’ve learned that you can’t hold on to a moment and you cant recreate a memory. all you can do is experience and then let go.

to all my friends new and old, to all the people that i love, through all the amazing highs and subsequent lows, thanks for sticking with me and thanks for making my life what it is.

rave on beautiful people, rave on

monogamy fail, slut win…

Dan Savage on Monogamy…

i don’t know why this stuck with me so much but i haven’t been able to get it out of my head. especially the part where mr. savage states that you haven’t failed monogamy, it has failed you. such a relevant comment on what society deems a normal relationship. i have always been a monogamous dude and probably always will be one but i understand why it doesen’t work for everyone. so to all the home wreckers and sluts out there good on you for going for what you want. life is too short to be with one person.

I am a 24-year-old female. I’ve been in a relationship with a man for six years, on and off. I think I could spend my life with him. But I have a hard time being faithful. I have cheated on him with other men and with women. He and I are not together currently, but we maintain a long-distance sexual relationship. We say that we are going to be together someday, but he has no trust in me. I would love to be content, but I can’t seem to go very long before I get distracted. Please give me some insight!

Don’t Wanna Be A Heartbreaker

“Toward the end of Sex at Dawn,” says Ryan, “there’s a brief section called ‘Everybody Out of the Closet.’ We argue that it’s not just gay people who have to go through the sort of brutally honest self-exploration involved in coming out. We all need to go through this process—and the sooner the better.” Here’s what you need to come out about, DWBAH: You’ll never be content in a monogamous relationship. “It’s time to stop bullshitting yourself,” says Ryan. “You’re very young, so, with all due respect, a certain amount of bullshit is to be expected. But you sound ready to move beyond this. Before getting into a committed relationship, you owe it to yourself and to the other person to be honest about who you are, and for now at least, you’re clearly not sexually monogamous. “And if you’ll pardon just a few words of old-guy wisdom while Dan shares his amazing platform,” Ryan continues, “many people your age misunderstand the odds of finding love in life. Few young people really appreciate that by being open about who you really are, you end up wasting much less time on relationships that are doomed from the start. In the long run, it’s much more efficient to fess up about who you are and what you’re really into from the get-go.” Who are you, DWBAH? You’re a slut. (I mean that in the sex-positive sense! I’m a slut, too!). And what are you really into? Variety. And don’t feel bad: You didn’t fail monogamy, DWBAH, monogamy failed you—as it has failed so many others (Clinton, Edwards, Spitzer, Vitter, Ensign, et al.), and will continue to, because monogamy is unrealistic and—this is not a word I toss around lightly—unnatural. “Maybe half of the people you’re interested in will walk away when you fess up,” says Ryan. “Let them walk! Those who don’t walk away are a much better investment of your time and energy—both of which are more limited than you can possibly realize at age 24.”

gravity

The voices of the people partying ring loud and clear through the night sky. Their lights are off and, not surprisingly, all the apartments around them have their lights on. I can almost feel the rage boiling inside the apartment dwellers that are either trying to have a peaceful night in or have to work bright and early.  It’s 3 in the morning and I’m watching them from a zero gravity chair on the roof of my friends building. I think about how I am experiencing too much gravity at the moment and that Canadian Tire should really rethink the name of this product. It gets peoples hopes up. I also think that the chairs could use about six wheels… on each side.

Hundreds of windows filled with hundreds of people. Some of the lights are on but most of them are off and most of them have the same faint blue flicker. Like a hundred tiny blue candles in a hundred windows. Or a hundred laptop and TV screens streaming a hundred TV shows.

The funny thing is while they are all watching TV I am watching them watch other people on TV, all the while the party rages on, and I am watching them too. If I could speak Persian I could understand every drunken exclamation screamed into the night. It’s probably for the best that I can’t.

I can’t help but think of a line from Chuck Palahniuk’s novel Survivor. Ahem…

“The big question people ask isn’t ‘what’s the nature of existence?’ the big question people ask is ‘what’s that from?’”

I can’t help but equate with the persian party animals. It is in fact Friday night and they sound like they are having a really good time! I can’t say much for their taste in music but at least they aren’t watching Family Guy and rehearsing funny one liners to tell their friends at the water cooler on Monday. They may be loud and obnoxious and may be hurling party debris on to the street 20 floors down but at least they are alive.

I chuckle to myself. Its funny that I am watching them but I can’t quite put my finger on why its funny. As the hundred scenes segue into a hundred commercial breaks in each of the hundred windows and as gravity slams another bottle against the cold hard street I have this feeling that I can’t shake.

A feeling that I am too being watched.