IT WAS WHEN the massive Trojan horse exploded in the distance, that I remembered why I’d come home. Above me, a masterful musician slid his gloved fingers along the “Earth Harp” – massive strings reached from his platform and attached to the surreal Temple of Transition a hundred feet away.
This was my third burn, and every year in the frantic lead up to departure, I wonder why I put myself through the ordeal. All the packing, planning, coordinating, and driving seem insurmountable. And yet, when I gaze out onto the playa, surrounded by a circus of oddities that I couldn’t begin to describe – I realize there is nowhere on earth I’d rather be.
Burning Man: Rites of Passage offered this to say about our current time:
We are living in a period of widespread fear and insecurity. We cling to what we have, but what we’ve had was merely the illusion of a mortgaged future. Nothing that we see around us feels sustainable. As one who blunders off a cliff, our legs still twiddle in the air: we haven’t gained a foothold that will see us through. Deeply-fathomed change we share with others — the kind of change that summons up the earth to meet one’s feet — becomes the only pathway forward, our most crucial step.
Enjoy our favourite pics from this year’s leap into the abyss.