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Silver Burners–Wardrobe/Costumes

Published on by Kathy Baker

I could not wait to wear the outfits that I had assembled with the help of my costume-sewing girlfriend Teri. Both of us had discussed what we were packing for six months and had met up to stitch together all the bits and pieces. We packed warm weather clothes for daytime and cool weather clothes for nighttime. We bought our boots and socks; scarves and wraps; goggles and glasses; hats and headwear; jewelry and accessories. Guess what? WE DID NOT GET TO WEAR ONE COSTUME WE MADE! There will be no photos of us in costumes because it was too damn hot at night to wear them!

One warm night I slid into my butterfly costume, created with wings attached to the bodice of an old dress. My friend Stephanie created the most amazing milkweed pod and paper mâché monarch butterfly necklace. I had a headdress of blue butterflies lit with tiny LED lights. I had lost 12 lbs. since it was created for me. I could not get it on. Teri and I finally realized we had been hydrated with so much Gatorade and energy cubes with sodium that we were bloated! Screw that. I was like a teenager. I went for the sea creature outfit with shiny lurex fish-scale leggings and a long-sleeved blouse with fins, complete with seashells and blue glass beads wired together for my headdress. I just about fainted from the sweat just getting my ass into those slinky pants. Off they came. I finally ended up in a sleeveless top and mesh pants that breathed, so I could breathe.

My steam-punk outfit will be there for Halloween. A black skirt held up in folds with brass hoops, a black velvet jacket with loops of red ribbon crisscrossing my back and black and white striped long socks with my black buckle boots would be topped off with a punky assemblage of jewelry. (Black and red leather bird on a chain and a handmade safety pin necklace.) I also had a perky little black netted fascinator hat and a black brace on my left arm from my broken wrist which was to be decorated with steampunk charms. Packed away.

Our fur coats were in a huge bin, but only two of them were used. I had the floor-length coat from Haight-Ashbury that never got used. Teri wore her pink fur and I wore my fuzzy cape, but others lay sadly in their bin safely away from Playa dust. Girlfriend and I would have loved loved loved cooler weather, as we are always hot even when others are not, but it was not to be.

 

We headed out on the art car one night for the burning of the man and were happy to be comfortable on a cool night with our coat and cape, but saw younger people wrapped in fur with very little underneath. They were not in the throes of personal summers due to their age, but I am quite sure some were hot and stripped down once the man was set on fire. (Had I had mascara on, the heat would have melted it.) The fashionistas of both sexes brought their faux furs and probably decided they would rather suffer with their coats and vests on rather than having an incomplete look. You go, girls and guys, while I fan myself.

Silver Burners–Shenanigans

Published on by Kathy Baker

I met the head of the orgy dome waiting for my Burner Bus. She invited me to come for a visit and I mutely nodded my head as I tried to picture myself in that environment. I knew there would be a little of something for everyone at Burningman, as I had studied hours of videos and read plenty of articles on the alternate lifestyles that would be represented. I suspended any form of judgment for lifestyles that were not of my own choosing and embraced the love and friendliness of this happening. Everyone I met gave out hugs like candy and it was so refreshingly spontaneous.

Our camp had one adult game, which only received a minimal amount of attention. I think our campmates wilted under the noonday sun and did not advertise to passersby as much as they desired their rest in the shade structure. The “Office Space” game was a hit, which was based on the movie by the same name. Flair buttons were passed around, a baseball bat was handy to beat the copy machine to smithereens and adult beverages were passed out as people described why they loved the movie, hated their jobs or loved the mat out front with the “Jump to conclusions” game.

I am quite sure my second-born daughter wanted to be there with me to make sure I played safe and did not do anything silly. Trust me, my desire for being in the moment at this event included no drugs and no drinking anything that I was unsure of, as in the days of my motherly admonishments to my own four offspring. I had plenty of opportunities, but also witnessed the aftereffects of some who had bad trips and over-excessive drinking. Not for me. One barefoot hippie wandered through our camp and asked if I wanted LSD and I said, “I have the best thing going right here in this cup with some great boxed Chardonnay.” (I”m pretty sure he was undercover.)

We did have some fun and games out there. While riding around in the blazing sun on our bikes, we took advantage of every person with a sprayer in their hands and received many “knee-gasms”, which included sprays behind the knees. Individuals would bark outside their campsites, especially on the marvelous Esplanade, to come in for massages, essential oils, or doctoring. Teri and I finally succumbed to Dr. Playa, where we received a cat scan (fluffy stuffed animal patted all over our bodies), a dognastic test, eye chart reading between our legs, ear, and nose cleaning for dust and finally and injection. (vodka-infused with wonderful flavors). We laughed for hours.

In the 4:30 sector, we were invited to a Gay Party. One daughter came with us and we had a ball filling out a questionnaire to determine what persuasion we were, before getting our “gay card”. The party was in full swing and we missed the genital imprinting on aprons. (Oh, dear me!) What we did not miss was the fun and conversation with two friends who invited us for a lovely cold pear margarita laced with laughter. Their large camp contained many vintage airstream trailers with outdoor spaces of gauzy curtains and shades. I was informed at the end of our stay that I was really a gay man in a woman’s body due to my wit.

Another local party, across from our camp, had great music set to a light creation that hung from a dome-shaped tent. Resplendent with curtains, large pillows, and cushy seating, we all sat mesmerized with the lights as we met new people. It was cooler in the evenings and nice that we could just walk a few feet to our tents and crash when we wanted to leave.

We meet people from all over the world, many who were there for the first time. Half of the people I met had been there multiple times. Their stories were wonderful. How they came to Burningman or why they decided to do this for the first time or why they continued to come. My project included sending four moleskin journals out with the question, “What Brings You To Burningman?” and I hope they end up back in my possession for a future story. Besides the art installations, I came to be energized by meeting new people.

Silver Burners—Personal Playa Hygiene

Published on by Kathy Baker

Ok. Let’s talk about staying clean in alkaline dust, not sand, on a 95-100 degree desert. Talk. That is all it is. There is no real hygiene. Let it go. Let it go. Let it go!

“What are the things you worry about the most?” asks Gage of his favorite mother-in-law and girlfriend. “Heat, and the fact we love two showers a day.” Settled. Swamp cooler installed, since his resurrected A/C unit failed, a case of baby wipes, antiseptic wipes, and boogie wipes and VOILA! a shower in our camp!

The miracle of a shower cannot be underestimated. If I was stranded on a desert island, God forbid it was a huge island far away from water. I would crawl to it. Baby wipes are awesome, but some bits and pieces just need a little more:)

Grab your towel, get to the public camp shower without losing it. (Some cared not.) Hop in and spray yourself with a spray nozzle resembling a pest control sprayer, before dousing yourself with Bronners. Peppermint! OmG someone tell me why my hoo-hoo is on fire! (Sorry for details:) Where is my organic hemp Castile soap???? I screamed. I hopped around. I survived. I learned.

The porta-potties are evil. One young campmate decorated the potty on the left with flowers, tropical murals, and anything sweet-smelling and put caution tape on the door, hoping most would avoid like the porta-plague. It was our special place, but we still came armed with extra toilet paper and in my case–purse-size Lysol. I will never ever ever ever love a portable toilet.

The smartest thing we ordered from Amazon was our “She-pee”, as we affectionately called our amazing in-house portable toilet. Number one great find! Women do not want to stagger two blocks in the middle of the night to pee, and it’s not like we had a forest with trees to pee behind. We bow before our goddess of peeing throne for its usefulness. Bless the inventor.

Silver Burners—White Wednesday

Published on by Kathy Baker

Tutu Tuesday was a miss for us. I had a multicolored ribbon tutu that I had planned to wear, but it flew high on my bike pole with LED lights and a Chinese lantern. Trust me, it looked better up there and not on my child-bearing hips:) Teri and her tutu were not to be seen:)

Since Teri and I were not present for camp set-up and striking camp, we were the designated ice retrievers and water fillers. Teri was due in on Wednesday on a Burner Bus, but we had no clue when she would arrive.

My temporary handicap sticker was validated at the DMV (Department of Mutant Vehicles) with a camp-mate who drove her car. What a great feeling to know I was going to be an asset to the camp with a pink Burner handicap flag! (I could not lift, carry, pull or push anything with left arm)

We headed down to fill up our 5 gallon collapsable water jugs and tried not to slip in the “slip” of playa dust and water resembling a pottery studio. We turned around to leave and spotted Teri across the way–groping her way around the bus depot as she waited for her luggage! Serendipity! We filled her four jugs and headed for camp.

Teri and I settled into our Shiftpod in the burning heat of mid-day. As any post-menopausal or thyroid inflicted female knows, heat, humidity and sun are not our best friends, but we are not whiners. We opened our tent flaps and tied wet scarves and neck fans around our necks to organize our mutual space and went to work.

We are OCD and anal housekeepers. What a joke. Playa dust. Tight space. Two crazy cleaning fools trying to organize costumes and suitcases filled with more than we needed and our she-pee area .(More on that later) And where do we put our dirty, dusty boots?

A ” Camp Nailed It” sign with our names graced our entrance. We had our own trash bag and were instructed NO MOOP (matter out of place). Federal lands prohibit any speck of sequin, feather, paper, crumb or particle be left behind! We were conscientious “moopers”.

The camp hugged and embraced my friend and we hung under the shade structure watching the parade of humanity pass by. Many stopped by for adult beverages as we tried to stay hydrated with good old water in this new harsh environs. Our camelbacks were our best friends, filled with water, snacks, dust masks, head lamps, goggles, chapstick, Kleenex/toilet paper and our ID.

Tuesday night was white night. How spectacular is it to see 80,000 people dressed all in white? Feathers, sequins, body paint, naked, glitter ponies and hippies dressed in white– all trooping to the Esplanade for the dance parties. We were so excited to be part of a happening of epic proportions for two beautiful friends of my daughter and her husband.

Friends of the future Mr. and Mrs. gathered at the Playground for the rave under a dark desert sky. It felt like the largest indoor dome laser light show imaginable. I felt like i was in the 60’s and 70’s on steroids. Beautiful bodies dressed in beautiful outfits. Music reverberated through our bodies and souls. I wanted to be 20, but i was so glad to be 70. The energy was magnificent. (Fun reading your blogs:)!

Correction: The White Night was at “The Playground” for “the White Party”. Distrikt (known for day parties) is the camp nearby to where Dawn camped and on the other side of the Playa.)

The circle of fifty friends encircled a tall, handsome, fabulously-dressed friend, waiting for his butterfly to stop flitting and return to the circle of friends she thought were gathered in camaraderie. When he knelt on bended knee and proposed, we all cried with her. What a special way to celebrate!

We floated home in our hearts, as we cycled back to our tents. It was a magical evening.

Silver Burners—The Day Before

Published on by Kathy Baker

It’s getting real. The lobby in Harrah’s is a bizarre mixture of glassy-eyed gamblers drinking and smoking for hours on end and luggage toting burners dragging as much as they can carry. A buff bare-chested male, dressed in a vest, man-kilt, sturdy boots and heavy socks stood proud—carrying a spear like a great white hunter, in the lobby as I passed through. I’ve seen enough YouTube videos to realize this will be normal attire for the week.

My class reunion is over and my classmates are rooting for my experience. My friend Frannie, who has been a few times, brought a beautiful embroidered, salmon colored skirt for me. Others like Chip, who lives in Reno and regaled us with tales of dusty burners returning through Reno looking for showers, questions my sanity. Teri’s and my tickets, guide and camelbacks were dropped off to Chip by daughter Brooke, husband Gage and camp organizer Sarah as they drove their truck through on their way to the Playa, so we are ready for our Burner Bus ride into the desert.

On the streets, strangely packed vehicles pass through, loaded down with camping supplies and bikes. I have seen two parked on the street today that would rival trucks seen in old t.v. shows“Green Acres” and “The Beverley Hillbillies”. I picture them as a modern day wagon train with food, water, bedding, tents, pots and pans, etc, hanging like charms on a rope bracelet, hoping not to lose anything onthetrail.

My little buddy arrives tomorrow and she is wishing she had come a day earlier, but both of us decided how much heat and excitement we could handle, which dictated our choice. We have been texting weather reports and last minute messages like teenagers and are thrilled to see it will only be in the high 90’s during the day and 60’s at night with no humidity!

My daughter Dawn will meet us there Wednesday.  She is thrilled to leave her two toddlers behind and enjoy the experience with me. ”I wish I was in the best shape of my life instead of the worst”, I moaned to her. ”Mom, you will be a rockstar by just being there.”  I want to believe this. Stay tuned!

Silver Burners-Gifting

Published on by Kathy Baker

One of the ten principles of Burningman is “gifting”, which is a tough call when you are flying in from a distance and have already packed two suitcases and shipped most of your supplies to San Francisco. What will be meaningful or fun without leaving a paper trail, MOOP (matter out of place on the desert floor) or fit back in someone’s belongings to return home? The gifting is unconditional and there are no strings attached, but it cannot be large under my circumstances.

I love the idea of everyone I meet being a piece to my puzzle and I would like to believe I might, albeit unknowingly, carry a piece to theirs. The idea that there are thousands of unknown souls wandering around at Burningman with stories and interesting lives I have not heard is exciting. My favorite poem in the world by Harold Kushner said it best.

“Some seem to be born with a nearly completed puzzle.

And so it goes.

Souls going this way and that

Trying to assemble the myriad parts.

But know this. No one has within themselves

All the pieces to their puzzle.

Like before the days when they used to seal

jigsaw puzzles in cellophane. Insuring that

all the pieces were there.

Everyone carries with them at least one and probably

Many pieces to someone else’s puzzle.

Sometimes they know it.

Sometimes they don’t.

And when you present your piece

Which is worthless to you.

To another, whether you know it or not,

Whether they know it or not,

You are a messenger from the Most High”.

Gerald Kushner “Honey From The Rock”

One year I read about someone doing a project with journals mailed all over the world, hoping they would return. With that thought in mind, I am bringing four moleskin journals with the title on the cover, “What Brings You To Burningman? I plan to distribute them every day and ask for them to go into the Playa and return to me with insights. Hopefully, I will be able to sit with some of the people I meet and hear their stories in person. I have my card taped inside with the request for them to be filled and returned and will remain optimistic that some will return. It is a gift, but to myself. It remains to be seen whether I will be a gift to them!

Along the same lines of gifting, despite the fact these are gifts to me, I have some treasures from friends and family tucked in my belongings. The charm necklace includes a jingle bell my Dad used to wear as Santa when i was a child; one of his dog tags from the Army; my Mom’s silver cross; an Irish charm given to me from a Ya-Ya symbolizing friendship and  my husband’s engraved key chain I purchased for his college graduation.

One of my Ya-Ya’s, Molly, who was the best friend of my life and like a sister, passed away close to ten years ago. I took beads, charms, ribbons, and made a set of prayer beads to  hold during her worst times. Her children returned them to me and they will be around my neck, with additions from friends and family included. My mother-in-law gave me a piece of her wedding headress to weave in. I feel like I am bringing my friends and family with me.

My twin gave me a fur vest; my sister Meg knit a fun hat and my friend Lydia crocheted a necklace. A Colorado mother/daughter team created beautiful jewelry for my night-time outfits. (Sascha was a Maqua camper!) This trip is more than me disappearing into the dusty desert, it is a spiritual journey. Other friends gave me wild jewelry, items they thought I would need that are practical, and although I resist having any expectations, I believe this trip will change me in some way. Stay tuned!