Aside from my beautiful daughters, Dawn and Brooke (and her husband Gage), whose presence were the most delightful bonus to my Burningman experience–traveling with my friend Teri added to the depth of the week. She was easy and fun, and at any moment of reflection or observation added wisdom to any situation. She was the best companion in terms of going with the flow and at the end of the week, we both laughed at her statement “you did not annoy me one bit”. We merged with ease into a camp whose main goal was to house people who were not partying all day and night, so we had a peaceful camp.
I personally tucked into my belongings many sentimental tokens, pieces of clothing, bits of ribbons and jewelry that friends had given me. My funny friend Margo’s necklace and a bracelet adorned my white outfit, and Claire’s woven ribbons graced my hair. (Claire was a graduate of fashion design from the School of Art Institute of Chicago). I wanted to have a little of her creations with me. Lydia’s crocheted ribbon necklace added color to my colorful bathing suit. My daughter-in-law Liz gave me an antique blue bead necklace. I hung a chain filled with my father’s Army dog tag, his jingle bell from his Santa slippers, my mother’s silver cross, my Ya-Ya’s Irish friendship charm, my husband’s initialed key chain, my Kilt pin, and the “Trust” engraved bracelet I gave my best friend Molly to wear as she endured years of chemo.
Around my neck, I wore the prayer beads I had assembled for the best friend of my life over eight years ago. They were beaded with meaning. In between the beads, I strung charms and tokens. My mother-in-law also wove a piece of her wedding headdress on the long colorful string, remembering Molly with fondness. Her children returned the beads after her passing and I wondered what would I do with them? The temple at Burningman seemed an appropriate place to bring them. I felt like I had taken Molly to Burningman with me and wondered if she enjoyed the experience as much as I had. Teri and I rode our bikes out to the temple at 8:00 but were too late to enter. They had closed it an hour before, readying it for the burn that night, but had emissaries to carry the messages to loved ones or items for the altar. I watched as a tall young man slowly and reverently carried the beads into the large wooden structure and lay them on the altar. I wept, saying goodbye to her all over again.
Teri brought her friend Tina with her. She knew there would be a time she would feel like it was right to scatter her ashes to the wind. We woke up at 4:45 one morning and rode the art car with others who gathered at the trash fence on the perimeter of the city. The sunrise was magnificent! I looked to my right at one point and Teri had wandered away by herself and quietly read her tribute and Tina left with the morning breeze under a layered sherbet sky. Tina and Teri, together again, but another goodbye.
The temple burn that night was magnificent. You could hear a pin drop. The structure reminded me of a giant Jenga game, but it is the soul of Burningman. It was created by Geordie Van Der Bosch and was named the “Temple of Direction, in the style of Japanese shrines. Lanterns decorated the interior and exterior spaces, but the walls were adorned inside and out with messages to loved ones, photos of family members and friends, and dresses and clothing. Thousands of burners sat on the ground and others were piled on art cars. Even the music stopped for the burning of the temple. Embers floated in huge pieces and hot ash filled the sky. We discovered later that there was a section that had to move because the embers were falling on them. I heard people crying out “I love you Mom” and some were weeping for their lost friends and family.
