Part 3: Playa That Funky Music

Pixie and I ventured out to the middle of the playa to take in more of the art installations during the day after we buried our misunderstanding. Very quickly, we were back to normal, which is how I think a good friendship works. I felt so relieved and much more excited to be a part of this experience with her.

We made our way out to one of the farther points on the playa where Crude Awakening, a 90 foot wooden oil derrick had been constructed and in front of it were nine 30 foot metal statues, weighing seven tons each, in various positions of worship, each representing one of the major world religions. At night they would all spout fire. One from her eyes and hands, another from her head and heart, etc. The whole installation was so powerful with all it said about what was going on in the world today, not to mention the dedication of the artists involved who thought it up and brought it all the way to the desert to begin with.

We rode on after that over to one of our favorite installations of the entire event, the monkey zoetrope called Homouroboros. A tree-like structure whirled in a circle thru power from solar panels and participants peddling stationary bikes around the tree. Then strobe lights would flash and it would look like these monkeys were swinging from branch to branch while a bright green snake wound down from the top, down one of the monkey's arms and fed it an apple and thusly, itself. It was so much fun to just sit there and watch it. Drums would beat and usually there was an art car near by thumping techno, adding to the rave feel, but you could also tell people were just stunned with joy upon seeing it go. You can see a bit more of the artist, Peter Hudson's, previous designs in motion on his site here and watch the zoetrope close-up and in action here.

Wouldn't you know that as soon as we got within perfect-picture range, my camera was suddenly no where to be found. After we left Crude Awakening, I'd thrown my camera back in my bag that was in the basket wired to the back of my bike Pixie had so lovingly secured for me, and neglected to cinch it shut. It wasn't five minutes between its disappearance and my discovery that it wasn't in my possession so we turned around and scanned the dusty ground between the zoetrope and the oil derrick, but we couldn't find it anywhere. Nothing. It was gone.

I wasn't terribly broken up about losing it other than feeling the rest of my trip would remain undocumented. Every single and indescribable photo op would be missed completely. Pixie tried to reassure me that everyone else would take so many pictures and they'd be available afterwards online that I couldn't possibly feel I'd missed out, but there were the personal ones of people I would meet and of course her and Kat and our neighbors, not to mention the ones I'd already taken of our trip down that I was disappointed in losing. She and everyone else tho had the thought that once the camera was on the ground, it'd become MOOP and, therefore, someone had to have picked it up and would have every intention of dropping it off at Lost & Found. We could only hope.

Pixie and I separated shortly after that and went on our own little tours for the rest of the day. About two hours after that tho, our first dust storm began. It lasted for four hours. FOUR, people. Kat and I, luckily, were both around the camp at the time, which was good because our funky little shelter wasn't holding up against the strong winds very well. She, her friend, Dan, and I began holding down the points that had broken free and did our best to re-restrain what we could. When we had it stabilized the best we could manage, they started dancing salsa in the middle of the storm. The neighbors across the street joined them, smiling before they all put on their masks and goggles. Everyone looked like a bunch of happy, dancing aliens. I so wished for my camera right then.

Once our first big storm was finally over, we all cleaned up, dressed our best to impress, and headed out to find some adventure. I tried to find a bit of that on my own for about 90 minutes, but it seemed like I wasn't at the right place at the right time wherever I went. I walkied Kat to find out where she was and met up with her and her two friends trying to find what I had been looking for earlier. Again, we never quite found the thing that would entertain all of us and plant us in one place together. There were multiple dance clubs, a band that most of the playa was there to see who after 45 minutes of being late to go on couldn't hold our interest in waiting there any longer and off we went again, and various visual art installations that came much more alive in the darkness.

I told the group goodbye when I found the need to get down with my bad self and dance for a while. It was a good feeling to let loose and do that all by myself. But I eventually found I needed something more specific and went back to the stage where the band was supposed to have gone on earlier and arrived just as they were finishing their set. Again, never at the right time. But they came back on for an encore so I got a small taste and they were fun and funky and I was happy in my discovery, however fleeting.

That's when I met my first random. Or rather.. he met me. I don't even remember his name, but he was wide-eyed, full of compliments about how beautiful I was and how he had gifts for me.

Tho I naively thought he would go away if I didn't show interest, I felt an obligaton to be nice. We chatted about nothing, danced for a bit, but I wanted to call it a night and he was insistent I stay out with him. He had the resources for me to keep going.. and without expressing any sort of request for those things, they were suddenly in my possession. Hm.. conflict.. what to do?

For a while, I wanted the company and some direction of where to go and what to explore, but I didn't know this person and very quickly he was attached to me tightly and expected me to tag along with him or he'd tag along with me and I just didn't know how to nicely separate myself until finally after a couple of hours of riding around I had to be direct and said I needed to go off alone and explore. He seemed to understand and tried to coerce a concise time for the next day to meet for coffee. I was vague and brief and said sure, maybe.. but not really dedicated to the thought so I could more than likely avoid it.. which I did. I didn't want to make plans with someone I could barely connect with but who was under the impression that a connection was made nonetheless. It threw me a bit.

On my own, I wandered by my own camp, but didn't want to head to bed just yet. I found visuals to distract me and a boy who offered me my own personal frequency with an oddly shaped tuning fork. All he wanted was a smile in return.

And then when I'd given up, was tired and my hip was bothering me with a nasty little ache, a random boy saw me teeter on the verge of zoning out over a film that was depicting wild animals in winter on a screen outside this particular camp and realizing I was the only one watching it at 3:30am, I became self-conscious and continued on my way. He stopped to talk with me and we chatted and walked for over an hour after that, stopping at a trampoline for seating and more chat.

Things like that would happen at any given moment and you'd meet people and possibly never see them again. Tho he had introduced himself as Sparkle, his playa name a close female friend had given him, I had to press for his real name because, really.. Sparkle? His real name was Mark. He was sweet and kind and we had the same sense of humor. I wish I'd have gotten his real contact info but he became like most of the people I met there - a good memory. Nothing wrong with that, of course, but still - sometimes you wish you'd learned more about them.

I went to bed with some vibrant dreams, some techno pulsing in the middle of dawn coming up, and a smile on my face. I'd found my place and a good vibe finally. It was a good feeling.