Has it really been a month since I’ve last posted? My absence has been due to the hectic summer season at the national park and my preparations for (and recovery from) Burning Man. I can’t even begin to share the stories, nor is this the appropriate place. Needless to say, it counts as one of the top ten experiences of my life. More photos can be found on my Flickr set.
Yes, this is a six story "(m)Ant Farm" behind me.
One of the many public art installations on the playa.
My art school friend, Andy, and I in front of The Man (which eventually is burned at the end of the week)
The view of our neighborhood from our group's tower.
Photo courtesty of Dusty and Garet.
Nope, not snow nor nuclear fallout. This is the ever-present dust that blankets everything and everyone.
Three weeks from today, I’ll be driving down to Black Rock City in northwest Nevada. Actually, for 51 weeks of the year, it’s not even a real city. But for those seven days, it becomes the 4th largest city in the state. Burning Man, at its essence, is an arts/culture/music festival in the desert with an emphasis on extreme creative self-expression and self-reliance.
This weekend, our camp (total: ten other friends) began construction on our three-story tower. As sore and tired as I am right now, it felt so good to be creating something physical with my hands because, for the most part, I work digitally in a cubicle. I loved the fresh air, the dusty smell of the barn, and even the splinters in my hands. Here are the fruits of our two-day blitz build.
The barn where all the magic happens. Location: Ellensburg, WA.
Kyle is ready.
Dusty proudly shows off Garet's model.
It's always easier to first build the walls on the floor than when they're upright.
My “office” for the past two days in Hozomeen.
Sometimes I have to pinch myself to prove that I really live in place like this.
A double rainbow!
This is what I love about living in the northwest: 3 hours after leaving my apartment, I can be eating lunch at the base of an honest-to-god glacier. Standing a stone’s throw away from a massive field of moving ice is one of those experiences I wish everyone could have in their life. It’s humbling to say the least, on par with witnessing a tornado, volcano, or other forces of nature. This things can literally move and shape mountains.
If you live near Seattle, you gotta hike the 2.5 mile trail to Heliotrope Ridge in the Mt. Baker Wilderness.
Try as I might, these photographs barely capture the scale and presence of the mountain.