Mud, and Fiction
The mass media loves disasters — it sells newspapers and gets clicks and thus makes the adverti$ers happy — and so, certainly most of you heard about the rain/mud fiasco out at the Burning Man event this year. While it looked quite beautiful from the drone overhead, it was a real trial for the participants.
We didn't go this year. Partly because of the weather last year — 103+ degree temperatures and intense dust storms — partly because of the increasing RVs/generators, ebikes, and smartphone use (bringing in more and more of the comforts of the Default World into the space of the event) — and muchly because of senior citizen health issues and money. The only reason we made it last year was because we both had jobs in 2019 and had saved money for the 2020 event — which due to Covid didn't happen for two years.
With all its many flaws — after all it is a human-run event — there is a magic out there unlike anywhere else on the planet; hence why I've gone 14 times, and Tammy eight. I now half-joke that I'll go again if I make it to 75.
The Man usually burns on Saturday night, but with the rain and mud they had to wait until Monday night.
In 2020, when there was no Burning Man, we burnt an effigy of The Man in our kitchen.
We prepared a similar Man to burn this year and waited along with the participants in Black Rock City until Monday evening to burn it.
The Kitchen Drone™© captured the event, as well as the one in Nevada, and now you can see them both in 4 minutes.
And here's a new (3 minute) short story that takes place in Vermont.
Published in Rainbow Salad on Medium.
Thoughts In An Oil Pan. A Tale of A Mechanic’s Meditation | by aleXander hirka | Rainbow Salad | Sep, 2023 | Medium
A Tale of A Mechanic’s Meditation
And to round things out, here is something from my life/art partner and Instagram influencer, Tammy — about our experience with rain out there in 2014.
Commentary: The Burners Are All Right | Remington Write | NewsBreak Original
The folks out at Burning Man now are having the time of their lives. The weather will never be truly predictable, but our reactions always are and that goes triple for any weather out in The Black Rock Desert. In a word: hysteria.
BIG THANKS to the two people who supported my work after the last issue of this newsletter with some spondoolix in the PayPal hat.
And even more so — for their kind words regarding their appreciation of the words and art.
The basket is by the door . . .
This is the work I do. I write, I make art.
I am (not particularly by choice) a "retired" senior citizen. (Maybe I should learn barista tricks.)
Here at the asylum, this is the work they give me so I don't take to the streets yelling "Revolution!"
Beyond my Social Insecurity check at this time I occasionally sell items on eBay, and do little chores for people. (Got job?)
If you appreciate what I do - if you think it is a valuable contribution to the human experiment on the planet - this work - this writing, this art - please consider throwing some bucks my way. I promise you it will all be spent on frivolity and pleasure.
HirkArt™© PayPal.