Going Beyond Belief: Burning Man 2003 by Penguin Scott


This year’s Burning Man Festival took place, as it does every year, the week preceding Labor Day. Over thirty thousand participants converged on the floor of the Black Rock Desert 100 miles north of Reno, Nevada, making this temporary city, called Black Rock City (BRC), their home. Any other time of year and you would find no trace of Black Rock City. For the Burning Man Festival is a leave no trace event. Pack it in, pack it out. There is no commercial vending, no food booths, and no art vendors. The elements are harsh. Temperatures range from the 40s at night to over 100 degrees during the day. Windstorms pick up from no where causing white out conditions from the blowing sand, clearing away anything not properly anchored to the desert floor. Rainstorms create a condition of mud that makes moving around nearly impossible. There is no natural shade to hide from the sweltering sun. So what is it that makes this festival so appealing?

What you will find at the largest public art event in the world is a temporary community embracing radical self-expression. A community of people who choose to participate in what may be the largest experiment in an evolving community ever put on. Burning Man embraces a gift economy, giving birth to unconditional love amongst total strangers who share a common bond to escape the rigors of the stressful mundane world. Burners share a common need to relieve these pressures by creating a livable community in such a harsh environment through dancing, drinking, creating, yelling, touching, seeing and being. It’s a community where one can be comfortably naked, not only physically, but emotionally as well. It’s a place where one can be moved to tears easily and then be embraced by a stranger who totally understands, because they are experiencing the same emotional overload of love and creativity.

Larry Harvey started the event years ago at Baker Beach in San Francisco. A handful of people gathered and returned with more the following year on Summer Solstice to do it again. Each year the following grew and eventually gave birth to the event that has evolved into what it is now- Nevada’s fifth largest city for only one week a year. A city built and torn down by volunteers. One that is built arching around the wooden and neon man, the center of our universe, with streets that have a distance of 1 and 6/10 miles on the shortest street and 3 and 2/10 on the longest. And radial streets are laid out along a clock grid starting at the 2:00 position and ending at the 10:00 position and are 4/10 of a mile long each. Center Camp, the city’s downtown, lies at six o’clock. At the twelve o’clock position, on the open landscape, is a temple, built by artist David Best. This year’s temple was the Temple of Honor, and as in years past, came to be the community’s spiritual focal point. In the emptiness that we call the playa, artists place their work for people to see, explore and ponder.

There is so much to see in BRC, so much going on at one time, that it becomes an exercise in random chances. The chance meeting of special people, the chance encounter with an artist, the chance reception of a special gift or a sight that really grabs one’s attention. There is a certain amount of sights to see if one sits still, but to truly embrace the essence of the festival, one need only pick a destination to see what one will encounter on the journey there. That’s much the way it is with life, isn’t it? It’s all about the journey.

While I’ve only attended three burns, I hear a lot of stories about the evolution of Burning Man. From that beach in California has grown a vast city with all the services you would come to expect. The rangers act as our police force. An airport welcomes more than 70 aircraft at the city’s edge. A department of Public Works arrives weeks before the event opens to the public to build the city’s infrastructure. A full-time office staff works out of a warehouse-cum-museum at the edge of downtown San Francisco. With over 30,000 people, there are now a few rules that become necessary as a community expands. Many people balk over this fact, but without them there is only anarchy, and that seems to go against what Burning Man is all about.
To embrace radical self-expression, to feel free to do so yourself, one must be free of the normal urge to judge others. After a week in the desert, I can’t help but wonder how it came about that our real-world society has come so quick to judge others. Because in Black Rock City it doesn’t matter how you dress, what you look like, or even who you love. If it harms no one, do what you will. And when I pose the question to others, one central theme seems to keep popping up as the answer: organized religion.

This is why I was first alarmed when I heard the unveiling of this year’s theme: “Beyond Belief.” I was concerned that religion was going to be the subconscious pulse of our city. I was afraid of people’s strong beliefs influencing their reason for attending, or for getting offended or becoming offensive because of their beliefs. But in the true nature of the event, I soon learned that along with the theme, my fellow burners were able to move beyond belief systems and embrace what it is that may lie beyond belief.

What is belief? What is beyond belief? How does one get past a system of beliefs from a society that is overly judgmental and possessive of them? If one’s beliefs aren’t in the mainstream then one doesn’t fit in with what society deems the norm. In that society, people are forced to keep these feelings repressed. They are forced to start living a lie and part of that person dies. Each person will come to a slightly different answer to these questions. But to move beyond it is a spiritual rebirth, an affirmation that no human emotion or feeling should ever be denied. That is what this year’s theme came to mean to me. And one can see the positive rebirth in the community that has sprung up around the man.

I once heard the question, “How has Burning Man changed you?” At the time I didn’t have a solid answer. I always loved a good party, music with a good beat, fun people, giving and receiving gifts. Burning Man became such a force in my life that my senses were overloaded and I couldn’t explain how it changed me. Maybe it hadn’t. But this year I was able to discover the answer to that question. It had. Besides being made more aware of the physical impact I leave on the planet, I found in me creativity I never knew I possessed. I don’t know if it was always there, lying dormant and waiting for the impetus to come out or if it evolved in me with exposure to the radical expressions I was now exposed to in the desert.

I spent a lot of time working at the Burning Man headquarters in the weeks that led up to this year’s burn. It was a result of being temporarily laid off from work due to the Iraqi war. I found there were many times when inspiration would hit me from out of no where and creativity was flowing out of me like it never had before. From creating lamps to hang in the center camp café to prayer flags that would decorate benches, I found myself feeling as if the muse had possessed me and I was loving it. At home I started art projects that would serve as my personal camp’s theme, Pagan Penguin Camp. I made two totem poles from wood and old penguin calendars. I decorated a table that would become a penguin altar. I made flags for my camp and papier-mâché penguins with different religious symbols to tie in with the festival’s theme. The penguins didn’t mean anything; I simply collect them and thought it was an appropriate way to express myself, to show BRC part of what I’m all about. I painted costuming to show a side of myself that never has the opportunity to be exposed. A part of me that was willing to be openly creative and non-caring of what others thought about that creativity. It was a feeling that must be attune to a singer taking stage in front of a stadium full of strangers and exposing their deepest feelings in song. And to show the need for a society that understands, accepts and embraces diversity, I included in my camp some statistics on the makeup of our planet that I once saw hanging on a bulletin board where I work:

“If we could shrink the Earth’s population to a village of precisely 100 people, with ALL existing Human ratios remaining the same, it would look like this- There would be:
57 Asians, 21 Europeans, 14 from the Americas and 8 Africans
52 would be women and 48 would be men
70 would be non-white and 30 would be white
70 would be non-Christian
11 would be homosexual
30 would be able to read
80 would live in substandard housing
6 people would hold 59% of the world’s wealth and would be from the USA
50 would be malnourished
1 would own a computer
1 would have a college education”

Then I added, “To change the planet we must start with ourselves.”

In the course of the year I have encountered people who regard Burning Man as a part of what is wrong with our society. “The nakedness, the wantonness, the drinking and drugs, the left-wing antiestablishmentism and people dressed funny with no regard for a civilized way of living.” But in truth, burners know that if the world were more like Burning Man we would all be better off. There are mind altering substances to be found at Burning Man, so there are in all of society. Anchormen, doctors, politicians, neighbors, children, postal workers, clergy, no one group of people are without guilt. But at least at BRC we can embrace a neighbor, understand them and their role in our society. Because Burning Man isn’t about drugs. It’s not about trying to get rid of societal norms. It’s about participation and involvement, openness and sharing. And I think, in it’s basic fulfillment, it’s simply a place to get away, to be artistic, to have a good a time, to love and be loved and to evolve both spiritually and emotionally. For we embrace things that cannot easily be understood outside of BRC.

For a burner, there is nothing like passing through Gerlach, NV, knowing the white powdery sand lies just beyond it. There is nothing like reaching the greeters and being welcomed “home” with a hug, and if you’re nice, a spanking. Then finding your patch of land that will become home for a week. There are new friendships to be made with neighbors and old friendships to rekindle with those you’ve not seen in a while. There is a special feeling in caring for the land. We pick up ‘matter out of place’ (MOOP), knowing that after the city is torn down, the man is gone, and we’ve returned to the asphalt world, that no one could ever tell there were 30,000 people who lived here for a week. We’re a part of magic that is not easily understood, or even known of, by others. We love the smell of the playa; its dust permeates everything brought to the desert. It gets into our tents, our cars, our food and drinks, and our souls. The art placed out on the playa or in our neighbors “front yard” moves us to tears, reminds us of old friends, of things from our childhood that we’ve forgotten, and those who have moved on. Exposure to new ideas, to creativity, to beauty found deep within, helps make us better people. I find art and beauty in the most mundane objects and in the most typical people after leaving BRC. I pick up trash in parks and parking lots. I hug people I care about and don’t wait until December to give a gift. And I have a better understanding of those who are different from me.

Once beyond our societal trappings, burners find a celebration of life in its purest forms. Shelter, food, sex, fun, comradrie, and a sense of belonging one never gets from the cold world outside the desert. We move beyond judging to self expression, beyond commercialism to radical self-reliance, beyond creativity to open up our very souls, and to reconnect with the things in life that mean the most.

I attend for revelry. I attend for the personal growth attained through my open-minded embracing of new experiences. I attend for the inspiration of creativity that spawns intellectual intercourse, the likes of which would normally not be entertained in a world that doesn’t easily accept the inordinate diversity found at BRC.

My favorite art piece was one, which probably got very little attention from most burners. It was simply a series of photos, larger than life. They were faces looking at me through the lens of a camera. The photographer knew the people in the photos. The picture was taken and enlarged, then hung on wire in a row that stretched about thirty yards across the desert. On the ground was a simple note from the artist. It said something about not believing in a god that sits in white robes ruling fate and destiny. That to this person, god was his circle of friends and his family; the people in the photos staring at me.

There was the Temple of Gravity, where huge slabs of marble were suspended in air, and where people could climb on them and walk under them. I loved the Yantra Temple, a collection of religious symbols from around the world, suspended in air. At night a light threw their shadows on the desert floor. For the religions that have been forgotten and for those not yet realized, there were also symbols.

There were many altars placed in various places on the open playa and nonsensical things like a giant television screen and a giant double burger. Some pieces were large with rooms to explore and levels to climb, such as the Temple of Chance. This was a large installation made of wood and thousands of playing cards. One room was full of baskets with signs saying to “leave something, take something.” They were full of small trinkets, toys, bracelets, poems and charms. Another room invited one to find out their birth card and to read it’s meaning.

The Temple of Honor was covered with writing. Many people expressed love to those who have moved on from this life. Others left doubts and fears they hope to overcome, dreams and desires they hope to see fulfilled, or poems. People left photos, art, clothes, flags and thoughts. I spent much time reading them and shared hugs and tears with others who were moved as well.

In keeping with the theme, there were many likenesses of gods and goddesses in the art at this year’s burn. One artist created a man out of rolled metal and named it, “God Gives up,” his arms up in the air. And art was all over the city. One camp had made a miniature version of the real man that stood seven feet high. One theme camp made an entire western village. On the far side of the city from me was a camp that had hundreds of pinwheels spinning in the wind. Then there were the camps that simply wanted embrace the ability to expose some sexuality; the vagina wall of fame or the penis face camp to name a few. The Constellation Community was one of many camps that offered stimulating discussions with a series of lectures on the universe and space. Kidsville catered to families and Hushville offered a home to those needing to escape life surrounded by generators. Santa Camp, Alternative Energy Zone, Murder Café, Action Figure Camp, there is something for everyone to enjoy or to be afraid of.

There are many sounds of Burning Man as well, for art here isn’t always something to look at. Drumbeats give the city a pulse almost 24 hours a day. And at night, it’s the techno music that gives the city its soul, pulsing until well after the sun has come up, grabbing BRC citizens and writhing them in dance and motion. Neon pulses to the rhythms not only on camp art, but also on the dancer’s costumes in the form of electric wire and glow sticks. Chimes and bells hang for ringing on the playa. Poets spout their art, singers lift their voices and musicians plug in to large speakers or simply find a quiet spot to strum.

Creativity seems to be what Burning Man is about. Whether it’s in visual or audio art, in one’s writing or song’s impart, spoken in eloquent conversation, it’s beating in our heart! There is nothing like it in the whole world, and that is why the whole world is represented here.

If I’m changed, there must be many more like me. And even if there are people who will continue to feel like Burning Man is part of our society’s problem, they will continue to be proven wrong on a daily basis. Like it or not, a bit of Burning Man surrounds all of us. It’s a force that continues to grow and inspire. And one that is continually… going beyond belief.

Things I won’t forget about Burning Man 2003:
1. Arriving before the city was finished (Thursday).
2. Leaving after the event was over (Tuesday, 12 days later).
3. Watching the man being lifted to his base.
4. Sharing the time-lapse camera with Obi.
5. Meeting an art car scooter named “Barra-scootah” (it was fish shaped).
6. My 2002 lamp shades being reused because they were last year’s favorites.
7. The Opening fire ceremony with Crimson Rose.
8. The overcast day (I did a lot without the heat of the sun).
9. My hair (I cut it short and dyed it glow-in-the-dark yellow). After all, I didn’t have a job to return to when I got home.
10. Best playa surface yet, it was like concrete in some places.
11. Sitting on Santa’s lap.
12. Doing the Hokey Pokey.
13. Having our own Clown Rampage since Disturbia disbanded.
14. “Schnookie the Wookie” Guy from Israel.
15. Watching Caroline make chili while 10 sheets to the wind.
16. The guy who, during the temple burn on Saturday night, yelled, “I love you people.”
17. Watching all the planes flying around the playa.
18. Sunday brunch (shrimp, eggs, crab cake, sausage, potatoes, etc. a benefit of my volunteering).
19. My new toy penguin from Julie and Reid, neighbors I met this year.
20. My tandem massage from Jenny and Fritz and his great energy.
21. Beating my world record for hooking up with a stranger.
22. Watching Eric watching 500 topless goddesses at the Critical Tits parade.
23. Heavy rains and 60 mile per hour winds before the event opened.
24. Christa, Samantha and…what was her name???
25. Disco Elves
26. My neighbor’s ice cream, pizza and quesadillas.
27. Sending people from L.A. to Six’s camp.
28. Exploring the playa with my campmates.
29. Visiting the mushroom and the group from Austin, TX (who knew some friends of mine there).
30. Seeing friends I met working at HQ: Dog, Molly, Annie, Victoria, Jim, Mike and Cathy, Termeh, Miss Bunny, Frog, Bex, Junior, Glenda, Crawfish, Camera Girl, Nurse, Harley and many more.
31. Dancing to Stevie Nicks Sunday morning after the burn.
32. Burning my art on the burn platform.
33. Strangers taking photos of my camp.
34. The person seeking shade at my camp who had perfect breasts AND a penis.
35. Walking the Labyrinth in front of the man.
36. Getting tagged by Animal Control.
37. Winning $50 at slots in Sparks, NV on my way home.
38. Penis gourds.
39. The birth of Bitterville/MRE camp.
40. Mr. MOOP, Adm. Moop, Moop & Mooper, Mayor of Moopsopotamia, Moopid and you’re Mooping (names I called people who littered).
41. Wind blowing up my skirt on a hot day.
42. Hot day – cold beer.
43. Mars and all the stars one can see in the desert without a moon.
44. Israel’s new sunset ritual of dropping his pants.
45. I think the naked thing is getting more popular.
46. “Free Hugs” guy.
47. Seeing and hearing the man’s heartbeat.
48. The guy I met at Yantra who asked for a hug and had the most positive energy I’ve felt.
49. My intellectual discussions at Constellation Community.
50. Being overcome by emotion over the art on the playa.
51. My new playa name, “Mr. Lovable.”
52. Learning the ‘proper’ way to pronounce Nevada (nuh-VAD-uh not nu-VAH-duh)
53. Meeting Six and hearing his views on new burners, the whole LA thing, hot bitches, paving the roads for next year, not having his lights up in his camp yet and Jiffy Lube.
54. New sayings: negative people are from LA; check your ass; I’m all about (blank); I like to watch; F*ck Mars/em all.
55. Camping across from one of the biggest playa landmarks at night so it was easy to find our way home.
56. Having a different niche this year of going to bed earlier and doing more during the day.
57. Knowing I should be at Burning Man after seeing the art, meeting the people, making new friends, and an experience difficult to explain to people you’ve never shared a sandstorm with.
58. “Burn the lamb?...the ram?…” No! the Man!!!
59. “Who comes to Burning Man to sleep?” (Bigfoot).
60. Hotdog cart near the man.
61. Dog’s story of drinking a Mickey and how messed up it got him. Bad deal.
62. All the comments on my lighted bicycle spokes at night.
63. Washing dishes at the commissary on hot days.
64. Getting the trailer (named Travis) that saved my ass for going to BRC.
65. How it took 5 hours to get to Sacramento, a 2-hour trip. Traffic really sucked. Oh, and could it rain any more?
66. Having the actual black rock, for which the desert is named, pointed out to me.
67. People calling me my new playa name: Penguin.
68. Great neighbors: Lou, Erowid, Rion, Allison, Caroline, Tracey, Bobbi, Jenn, Robyn, Eric, Bigfoot and Comfort Village.
69. “I have a bag of weed!” (A gift I very quickly re-gifted to someone else).

And now on to the photos.

To see the entire photo album in all it's glory, cut and past the long address below and you're off. Once the window is open you should maximize it for better viewing. You may stop the slideshow, go back, go forward etc. All photos are property of Scott G. Gibson and are intended for private use only.

This photo album includes pictures of naked people:

http://picturecenter.kodak.com/guest/kpcGUSlideshow.jsp;jsessionid=aaaeN_9c1p_4lq?machineid=5&invite=BECr4l80288zekzhk0Ik&containerID=1369781506&page=1&play=forward

If you are against seeing naked people, you may prefer to view this photo album, where I have taken out the offensive (to you) photos.

http://picturecenter.kodak.com/guest/kpcGUSlideshow.jsp;jsessionid=aaahy1ZG1xiR2b?machineid=5&invite=3EYr4r8qmmk5i5xU0U0o&containerID=1369838082&page=1&play=forward

To read my article and view photos from Burning Man 2002, please go to:

www.penguins2002burn.blogspot.com.