a rainy weekend in my little basement

Rain rain go away, it feels like you're here to stay ... another weekend in this soaked little city. It was like this right before I left for the burn, too, leaving me breaking down bikes in a rain jacket and building stilts in my little basement. The weather reminds me of Vancouver in January.

It makes the city feel even more lonely for the other places I call home. I don't really want to be back -- driving out of the rockies felt a bit like punishment, cruising through its endless suburbs into the little downtown core reminded me of how little I want to live here. Toronto?

The burn was great, though not my most spectcular. All for my own reasons, of course, a certain difficulty I feel being present, and some criticisms boiling through my brain about what the little festival should be (mostly thanks to reading "this is burning man" in the weeks leading up to the festival). I am not so idealistic about the place as I used to be, one part annoyed with the virgins, one part annoyed with the deification of the Man. I was almost pleased to see some incredibly stupid dangerous things going on, proving that the place hadn't been entirely tamed. As one piss clear writer put it "Burning Man nostolgia isn't what it used to be." Art projects to deal with the annoyance to follow.

Many thanks to all the friends I spent it with and the new friends that I met. Highlights include modelling/contact dance, critical stilts, the temple burn, the lost canadian and the Kanuckistan burn barrel, mad dancing on the 10 o'clock end, the tower of flower, the fire finger garden, and lots of other little encounters.

The pic is from a hitchhiking trip just before the playa at the Whiteswan hotsprings. Playa photos to follow, as soon as I deal with some developing. Fabulous times, indeed.