Unpaid Bills & TuTus

The aftermath of Burning Man is always challenging. How does one reconcile oneself to the capitalist treadmill, the numbness, the schedule-shuffling of the Default World after a week of hedonism and emotional joy-riding in the desert with like-minded souls?

Blissful with Lord Hopton and Cosmo, my first year at the Burn. I went through a pretty serious depression after my return that first time - sitting at a desk and staring at a computer felt like torture. I couldn't settle for the rat race after the easy-wide-open-heartedness and absolute freedom of the Playa, as evidenced by this 2006 blog entry from the archives of Cliffypop.

And here I am again, staring at the dusty piles of things yet to be cleaned and put back into place after the chaos of the Playa, the unpaid bills and tutus covering every available surface in my studio. It's amazing to see how easily the artifacts of whimsy mesh back in with the detritus of the daily grind.

But this year I think I've succeeded in escaping the doldrums of re-entry. I'm fortunate enough to live in a community surrounded by friends where I can have that kind of openness and unadulterated joy and creativity year-round, so for that I'm grateful.

We went to a party over the weekend that served as a brilliant reminder of just how much of that magic is all around me. We were thrilled to meet four of the members of Fou Fou Ha, one of my favorite performance troupes. Needless to say, we all ended up with clown make-up smudged all over us by the end of the evening. We were also treated to the most stunning hammered copper Jules-Vern hot-rod fire-antennae art car snail I've ever seen.

The snail was called the Golden Mean, and it was built by a lovely couple from Oakland, also responsible for the fabulous Boiler Bar, which I had the pleasure of seeing at the Maker Faire. All of which added up to a very happy Choklit. A little fire art, a few saucy clowns, some tequila served from a bar with a tesla coil in it, and I'm back in my happy place. Sigh.