photo, poem, & audio Bless!

The day your eyes smile at the challenge of my calling
the day your heart pulses with the fire of my knowing.
I ask for your allegiance in the mission of remembrance
to wake and say thank you to those who carry you in dreams
to shed tears for the stars, the brilliant sparkling pieces of your expanding soul
To breath in the courage of she who’s strength gave birth to you.
Your light is mine
I long for you to see it
to live it
a talk on ayurveda

burningman post about seamonster & upcoming events

dragonboy will be bringing the creative spark of the city of the dragon empress to next saturdays chico earth dance
“This was posted on the burning man website in a conversation about why burningman sucks now”
I’ve posted a picture of “THULE”, the “dog” who is actually a wolf who seamonster almost died for.
Postby B the B » Tue Apr 19, 2011 1:47 pm
Only been once in ’10 but it is interesting to talk to vets and newbies alike and hear the different perspectives on growth. Evolution is important for people as well as events like BM and it’s always gonna change, i.e. evolve. It may be not exactly what you would like it to be or what it’s been, but rest assured it is exactly what the collective mass of burners make it. We are getting older while virgins get younger. Culture in both the default and playa world is changing, and there is no stopping it. Sure you can do things like what Paul Addis did, and he payed a hefty price, and that was HIS burn. In my opinion, costume elitism is obnoxious, some people just have never been into the whole “appearance” thing. I like the ideas I’ve seen and read about baiting bike thieves, accosting blatent moopers, and generally fucking with the obvious spectators. I see this kind of stuff as creating a new angle. Hell one of my first experiences out there was a beautiful nude woman named SeaMonster (sp?) in hysterics about a man driving a water truck driving too fast and killing her “Dog”. (one of her many animals in her campsite, probably thrown out in front of the truck) Well, a crowd started to form and we all followed her lead. The driver was getting visibly upset and just wanting to continue his work day, while some men were blocking his path and matching his bravado then some. Out of no where some people started medical care on the “Dog” (a stuffed horse), others were arguing with the man demanding he take the “dog” to medical. Wanting in on the action, but also attempting to diffuse a rapidly escalating situation, I pulled up to his window and demanded his license and registration. SeaMonster could have been killed because she layed down in the road in front him out of his line of site, tears running down her face, saying “Just kill me! End it all!” He started to drive and I came very close to having to act fast in making him stop. I’ve run off on a tangent here but my point is, that was performance art. That was serious too. That was a scene that I think didn’t “suck” and could only happen at burning man. But, who knows what the future will bring? Even some of the original burners sell stuff under the radar, and some of the newbies come correct too. I think the important thing is to have an open mind and heart, at least once you pass thru the gate. Hopefully it lasts a year.
“what if one of these times the man says f it and decides to burn us?”
B the B
Posts: 32
Joined: Sun Mar 20, 2011 10:23 pm
Location: East Coast


Aunt Jackie is the star of this years burningman minibook. The theme rights of passage fit in perfectly with her 101 birthday inaguration event. If I see you on the playa I will most likely give you one. Or they will be found in a tip jar near you. I love you eternally.

giving lip-service to this live unit

the dire consequences of a constantly day dreaming speculation based on what he did didn’t do
with pop quiz grade scores to test in ineffectiveness of the ability to change something that’s always changing leaves him sadistically blasted on
like burt lancaster in bikini briefs with freshly burnt buns, stupid.
stupid, but utterly important, he spills it.
chaotic feedback mechanism commences, indispensable units of deep fried deliciousness, but its only magazine pictures, and the words in the black book are only scriptures, impractically inept at giving lip-service to this live unit,
he curses the heavens with envy, only to coil into a cartoon ball like ren or stimpy, stuck in a parallax battle unit platoon shoot down. bunk bed cupcakes plastered on cheap sheets and socks that never stink,
she’s going ape butt for daises
but the invasiveness of the species
drives the other neighbors crazy,
how fondly absurd of you Mrs. Carlyle,
didn’t mean to offend
or bend the unwritten rules for gods sake.
gotta recheck my good choice chart
before i decide to act next time, times ten million billion human heart rockets blasting off.
what’s next, you me and everybody we love.
stupid dope, and lonely to boot, one mixed up kid sittin in the corner,
ready to explode with the melodies that encode the harmonic structure that is his mind, but marks don’t reach high enough, tisk tisk, sweep em out with the rest of the happy hippy shit, don’t ya know boy, were trying to make dollars not sense,
dollars not sense
hearts can’t actually speak
lights are for illuminating dark spaces
not for making love
you cant make love with your light, but angelo the winged serpent tells me different
he says “what about electricity”, training wheels, baby steps, wobbling ponies, rainbow beams bursting from their eyes in all directions.

self portrait & a link

the strangest thing i ever saw in my life
was my life
is my life
it’s all there, and yet it’s going away
and coming
how is that possible?
when i was a small person,
beginning around the age of 7
i began to collect “junk”
i had a place in the attic where the light would shine
through one of the attic windows
I would crawl up there to contemplate and arrange my “junk” items
which were not junk to me but sacred objects
I would pay close attention to each little detail
thinking about where this item had come from
how it had come to be the way it was,
the way I liked it
I knew deep down that these objects were special
and that everyone else thought they were junk.
I was not attached to these items
but it gave me great pleasure to be with them.

Blast offerings lifting

Blast offerings lifting,
all I’s focusing inward,
the space ships within
whispers, streaming forth
a common path, that which subtly shifts
the quickening longing
to love, to give, to offer, in light, that which is I.
Dreamtime statuettes, traced around each face.
each smiling eye that beams with uncertainty
these, are your brothers and sisters, your sons and daughters
this is the dream team you’ve chosen,
a miraculous intermingling of flesh and spiraling life force,
brilliant hues dancing upon the surface of each smiling thought form
connecting with each smiling thought form connecting with each smiling thought form
In THESE I’s, she preaches
singing the hymns of rainbow blood.
We The People
we the conquerers of matter, the causes,
sailors of the night shade light socket luxury cruise ship of eternity,
your eyes are burning bliss holes through the fabric of every fibrous yes membrane that composes this intrinsically giving suit of constancy,
all hard wired with the frequency to spawn a new breed of human being.
the countdown beginning within.
the pyramidal bass drum
providing the foundation for lights upward movement, the boom, boom, boom of mamas heart beat,
the tune that needs every voice to make her melody.
The Room that decides to conjure up each starlight shuffle kung fu kick dance move ever invented
your burning body, brilliant, standing on the tip of the iceberg, but rapidly melting the ice beneath as you slide into the body that’s been hidden, until now,
until this very moment, when you decide
I am going to love you
I am going to love you.