Black Rock City to Santa Monica Blvd…and back again: Field Notes & Observations, Part 2
In which I trade white-out storms for white fluffy robes. (Briefly.)
Just a few hours ago I was climbing massive art sculptures in deep playa, desert dancing at Distrikt, and swinging from a 3 story-high aerial hammock in the heart of Black Rock City. One bicycle ride, 2 chartered plane hops, and one limo drive later, I’m in the heart of Los Angeles.
This was not the Burning Man experience I could ever have imagined. Last night I slept in a yurt, tonight I’m being put up in a swanky hotel. Less than 20 hours from now? I’ll be right back on my bike, cruising down the Esplanade celebrating Tutu Tuesday complete with dust goggles and the ever-present threat of dehydration on a prehistoric lake bed.
Is this real life??
Better. I think this is what they call Life By Design.
…with a dash of choose-your-own-adventure!
The full story of the Why’s and What’s and Who’s to come soon (I’ll share all when I’m permitted to,) but for now I’m in complete and utter amazement at the sheer FUN of life. For reals. This game keeps getting better and better. I am grateful. I am so, so grateful.
What started out as an Oh, No! moment transformed and up-leveled into one of the most ridiculous and rewarding adventures of my life. Seriously. Every possible roadblock, wrench, or sudden swerve is just an invitation to re-imagine, create, and architect an even better YES. (Yes.Yes.Yes. Gimme-some-more-please-&-thank-you!)
However, as fun as it is to take a hot, steamy shower after 4 days of heat and grime (shhhh! don’t tell my campmates!) the bliss and indescribable magic of the playa — heat and hunger and craziness included, is unparalleled. So, I’m saving one dance for a city of angeles, but the rest of my dance card is completely filled by a man that’s going to burn.
Echo Bravo Alpha, consider this my over and out! Until then: buckle up, wear your sunscreen, and remember: safety 3rd
Sending you 4-star hugs, 3rd-eye kisses, and a blast-off of One LOVE.
Your (not-quite-so-dusty) Bunny Maelyn