I tried to explain my version of found love, as in a found poem or found piece of art—love that was already there. So rather than ask people dressed in crazy costumes to pose, I wanted to find them already posed, take their picture, and write some sort of pithy caption. But, I realized that finding love, in the form of a one night stand, is also a type of found love. I told Tigger I went out to Burning Man this year with a project in mind.
Truth be told, I love camping, cocktails, costumes, community, art, and gifting (Burning Man runs on a gift economy), as much as anyone, but I am never truly happy unless I have a project. So, I decided rather than to gift glow-in-the-dark trinkets, I would gift my time and my creativity: I would write a book about love on the playa, accompanied with photographs, and I would donate any money from said book back to Burning Man via Black Rock Arts Foundation.
Burning Man 2010. Author photos.
The previous year, I had been drawn to all the hand holding and smooching, and though voyeuristic, that’s what I took pictures of, so when I got home, I decided that my theme would be love on the playa—all kinds of love, boy-girl, boy-boy, girl-girl, friendship, and families. So I had my project. Then, I set up the rules—I would only photograph what I came to call “found love.” I would not ask anyone to pose. I might not even tell people I had photographed them if they were not identifiable. I would be sneaky.
The problem was that when I arrived to Black Rock City, I wanted to participate not spectate. How could I do both? At the hug deli I both wanted the “warm and fuzzy” hug in exchange for two compliments, and I wanted to take pictures of the booth. I wanted to join the group hug, and I wanted to photograph it. Truth be told, I did a half-assed job of both. I didn’t get the pictures I wanted, and I missed out on the group hug. This happened to me all week.