What a project should be

• It should be interactive/participatory
• It should be temporary
• It should fit with the theme of Burning Man for that year
• It should fit with the Black Rock Desert setting, meaning it should be evocative of that environment, a good use of those environemental features, and capable of standing up to the harsh desert environment
• It should fit with activity patterns at Burning Man, in other words it should be a good nocturnal activity.

Our project

For such a modest project, I thought it was a big success. Every morning when we returned to camp, the sand patterns had changed; people clearly interacted with it. My favorite moment was the last morning, when I returned to find a full water bottle carefully placed upright in the middle. In the "real world" I would never drink water from an unknown source. But Burning Man is all about trust, participation, and the gift economy. I thought this gift was the perfect way to participate in our little project, and I felt I had to trust the giver. That water was my sustenance the night of the Burn; water never tasted so sweet.

How to get killed at Burning Man

It all started with a stroll on the playa to see some of the exhibits out there. Beyond the man there was a fantastic structure called the Masoleum, which I got a picture of.

The idea behind the Masoleum is to lay something to rest, or let something die, in a positive way. You write your goodbye message on a chip of wood, leave the wood chip within the Masoleum, and the whole thing goes up in flames the night after the Burn. I really like this idea; it meets all my criteria for good project design at Burning Man: beatiful, temporary, participatory, and in keeping with this year's "Seven Ages of Man" theme.

In front of the Masoleum are two tall wooden pillars. If you look closely, you'll notice that a piece is missing from the right-hand pillar. Here's what happened.

I'm sitting on the ground in front of the Masoleum, talking quietly to my friend Simon. It's windy, and dusty, in a playa sort of way. Suddenly I find myself hammered face down into the playa, with a screaming pain in my back. This happened so quickly, and so silently, that Simon kept on talking for a moment before realizing that I had disappeared under a large piece of wood.

Turns out the pillar had blown over, and a piece of it had broken off upon impacting on me. A hunk of me got lost as well. I ended up with a nasty gash as a result.

Later we were walking back, and passed Spectator Camp, a way cool bit of conceptual art at this year's event. In Spectator Camp a group of people sit in bleachers jeering at the passers-by, commenting on the passing scene and attempting to get enough of a rise out of the passers-by to get them to "participate."

They asked me to show them a trick. I told them my trick was how to get killed at Burning Man, and then I showed them my injury and told them my story.

It was the only time I heard them shut up all week.

Other pictures

The Warm Embrace of a Viking Maid

I had brought along a fifth of vodka on the assumption that although my preferred beverages are beer and wine, neither of those would keep well in the desert. As we were packing up on the last day, I realized that we had consumed almost none of it, and that it would be yet another item to pack.

Just then, we were assaulted by Vikings.

Now, you have to understand. Art cars are a big part of Burning Man; people take a vehicle, decorate it, register it with the Black Rock City authorities, and then cruise Black Rock City in it. Generally, I think this is a fairly lame form of participation in Burning Man; a bit like cruising the main drag in town on Saturday night because you're too lazy to get a real date. But there are occaisionally some cool art cars, and there are occaisionally some cool art car concepts.

The only trade in Black Rock City is barter or gift. The Viking art car was actually a nice play on these themes. Decked out like a longboat, these guys would pull into your camp and "pillage" you, meaning they would demand things but likely offer gifts -- or at least a cool ride -- in return.

So the Vikings come barreling down our street, calling out "Alcohol! We need alcohol!" And there I am staring at a fifth of vodka trying to figure out how to dispose of it. What happened next is a bit of a blur, but it was something like this:

• I go running after the longboat, offering my bottle of vodka;
• I'm pulled into the longboat, and a viking helm is plopped onto my head;
• a lovely young woman wearing what can only be described as a caribou bikini plies me with drink;
• we're hailed from a passing camp, by someone who says "hey, Vikings! Remember Dave from last night? He's says stop in; we've got pancakes."
• Next thing I know I'm in a tent eating pancakes with orange marmalade, and talking about Open Source software to some guy I've never met who's noticed my Linux t-shirt;
• Oh, and somewhere in there I'm offered LSD, which I decline; acid and 7 hour drives back to the Bay Area don't mix.