In me default life (Burning Man lingo for the life of a burner outside of Burning Man), I like to sometimes look at the ground when I walk, looking for things, call it an urban beach combing if you will. I find cards, pieces of art, feathers, bird eggs, marbles, money, leafs, interesting things that fall out of trees, flowers, cutouts of butterflies, stickers, jewelry, all kinds of stuff and the stuff varies depending on the season as well. Sometimes if an item speaks to me, such as the Queen of Heart card that I found after a reading or beautiful intact flowers, I will take it home and put it on my altar. It will stay there until I decide that I no longer want it there.
My beach combing skills, which were finely high tuned after years of looking for particular shells and small pieces of glass for jewelry in Hawaii, come in pretty handy at Burning Man when it comes to picking up MOOP (Matter Out of Place) which is anything that doesn't belong there, on the ground. I love to MOOP. I feel like whenever I am doing it I am continuing a part of my heritage or legacy if you will. I can remember my grandfather telling me "Chrystal, whenever you go some place, make sure that when you leave, you are leaving it more beautiful than when you first arrived." I'd like to say that I always do this, I don't though, and it is a part of my practice of being a citizen of this world whereas I do it enough to the point that maybe one day I will do it everywhere I go.
I definitely fulfill more than my 2 hours of required mooping each year at Burning Man. When I am not on schedule for working I pretty much moop almost every time I walk back and forth to the porta potties. I have a little moop bag that I put my moop in. I enjoy being fascinated by what I find, there will always be sequins, glowsticks, cigarette buts, glow bracelets, pieces of toilet paper, pieces of wood however, sometimes one is lucky to find an absolutely beautiful bead, a flower from someones costume or a piece of jewelry. One day when I was walking around camp and mopping, I bent down to pick up what I thought was a piece of paper which really turned out to be a window decal sticker of the man. "Sweet, best piece of moop ever." I showed it to one of my camp mate and he agreed.
Since I've been back in my apartment I have been going through the long process of deplayafying everything. Washing all the clothes, washing myself, washing my hair, wiping all the stuff done with water and vinegar. It is a looooong process of which there is still much to do. Today, I made it through a bag of clothes I did not wear, my tool kit and some leftover toiletries. I made a note of all the things I used, all the things I didn't use and all the things I need to buy more of. Before I put stuff away for the year I hope to have everything somewhat organized so that I can grab my bins, pack my clothes, spend a day buying whatever extra stuff I need and then head out on my way without needing to spend a long time making sure I have everything.
Today, 6 o'clock rolled around and I was over it. Stuff was everywhere and I thought "Screw it, I am going to put it in this box for now and I can organize it tomorrow." As I was putting everything away I bent down to pick up what I thought was a piece of recycling only to discover that it was the special Burning Man decal that I found on the Playa. I was super stoked to find it cause I totally had forgotten about it. I imagined what I would do with it, would I put it on my car and if I did would there be more of a chance of me getting pulled over? " Then, I was transported back into time.
I remember looking at my grandmothers wheelchair. She had a Burning Man sticker on her wheelchair, she was always a woman ahead of her time. One year a dear friend of ours had gone to the burn, had come back, and put the sticker on her chair. I remember on day, we were sitting at lunch (we being my grandmother, my cousin and myself) talking about what actually goes on at Burning Man. The topic of drug use came up. At one point she said " I want to go to the dessert too and do LSD." Mind you this was after her stroke, my pre-stroke grandmother would have never said that. My cousin and I looked at each other, looked at her, she looked at us, my cousin and I were silent and she said, "I do, I really do, lets go to the desert and do LSD." My cousin had to say to her that we couldn't do that and she looked very disappointed.
When we were out in the desert this year there was one day where I could particularly feel the presence of my grandmother. I was really sick and hadn't made it to any of the burns, I had made an announcement at dinner that if anyone knew of anyway that I could make it out to the temple burn without needing to walk or bike I would be very appreciative and that if it didn't happen I wouldn't be heartbroken (the last part I think was a lie I was just trying to tell myself.)
I found some people that could give me a ride out there but I wasn't guaranteed a ride back. My fever was high and I felt really bad that I knew that I couldn't stay out there long or I could get much worse. I had given up on the whole thing every happening when my campmate grabbed me by the arm, pulled me over to a fellow campmate and asked him if I could be put in his tow cart and get a tow out into the temple. We both looked at each other, at the cart, discussed the weight limit and decided it was worth a try. It was happening, I was going to the temple :)
As my campmate, biked exerting himself much I might add, I sat there in my white faux fur coat, sometimes looking at the screwdriver holding the cart to the bike, other times looking at the man in the mouse suit biking me out there as I held his tail, looking at the mass around me of all the people biking to the same direction. It was a beautiful scene thousands of people with the same intention of biking towards the temple to watch it burn. I thought, "My grandma is really proud right now" Even though my grandmother was a pioneer and feminist she still had some pretty old school beliefs, one of which was, the men, if they are able must always help the woman i.e., open the door, carry her bags, do whatever she wanted, almost. A woman was supposed to feel like she could do anything that she wanted and also that she could have men also do almost anything she wanted.
So I have this sticker, and it's really cool, for starters because I found it, for seconds because it reminds me of a funny story of my grandmother and last but not least, although my grandmother would think I might be mad for enduring the type of torture that Burning Man can be, I LOVE it, I get to believe that my grandmother is up in the skies, in the clouds, coming from the sunlight over the clouds, looking down on me and fully loving the moment I got the most precious gift I could think of this year, a man in a mouse suit towing me out to the temple. It's funny, I even thought that maybe she had some intervention in getting me to the temple. How everything happened was in such a way that it truly had her signature written all over it.
Each year I go out, when I write my postcards, I get to think of her, of how this year again I won't be able to send her a postcard, but I do get to think about all the times she supported me as an artist, all the dreams I had that she supported and that above anything else, all she wanted was for me to be safe and happy. Each time I pick up moop is the opportunity for me to remember my grandfather, of how kind, loving and compassionate he was. Of how I hope to one day find someone as kind as him.
I am safe, I am happy and I am trying to live all my dreams. I am trying always, to love no matter what.
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