Goddess 2.0

I loved her.
So I stole her.
I celebrated her.
Then I domesticated her.
I flaunted her.
Then I neglected her.
I forgot her.
Then I remembered her.
I retrieved her.
And I celebrated her.
But then I killed her.
And I mourned her.
I had lost her.
Then I resurrected her.
And I valued her.
So I shared her.
And now I release her.

Those of you who have followed this blog for a while remember the sad, sordid, but ultimately uplifting tale of the Bourka Bee Goddess. I first wrote about her in the post “Death of a Deity“, where readers learned her Origin Story – where she was admired, stolen, revered, and ultimately murdered. Her tale of redemption came in the post “Goddess, Resurrected“, where she came back to life and took her place in our camp at last year’s Burning Man.

The Bourka Bee Goddess is returning to Black Rock City, and this time, it seems she was meant to be there. This year’s Burning Man theme is “Fertility 2.0”, and what better symbol for fertility 2.0 than a bee goddess who was dead and then brought back to life?

I knew she would return to the playa this year. I didn’t know she would first undergo a radical transformation, but she did. Her new image is not of my creation; rather, she spoke to me through various mediums – dreams, friends, memories of the 80’s…. The message was, in her unique way of speaking, “I am so much more than you can possibly make of me. Set me free to be the representation of Universal Fabulousness that I am!”

I came to see her as a genie kept in a bottle. She needed release to be able to perform her magic. So I listened to the voices that seemed to be saying to me, “let her go” and in so doing, she became more of the goddess that she truly is.

The process required returning her to her original state.

Then letting her shimmering nature dictate the color palette.

The tile pieces added a new intensity to her ferocity…

Now those who look upon her carelessly can be blinded by her beauty —

–while the mindful among us, looking upon her with reverence, will see their own beauty reflected back to them.

The Goddess returns to the playa in a few days and, much like the bee brings pollen to the flowers, she’ll be bringing love to the dusty citizens of Black Rock City.


Daddy-Daughter Date, Done Differently

I wondered if taking Makena to a fundraiser was going to be an acceptable way to spend our monthly Daddy-Daughter Date Night last Saturday. If it had been any other fundraiser, it might not have gone over so well. But because this was a fundraiser put on by Burners, it was a night my daughter will never forget. 

Our destination for the evening

Read On

Delivery Squid

freckle-cheeked and
blue-eyed girl,
pencil in hand,
and paper
a blank canvas
to convey images
unique to her,
ideas as strange and
as all those born of
whose minds are not bound
by the limits of reality
but instead exist in a
where birds carry umbrellas
and flowers are
as large as trees. Read On

Playa Notes

This week’s “zombie” post reminded me that writing this blog can be fun, and it occurred to me that, lately, this blog has had more emphasis on the “serious” and less on the “silly”. And the last thing I want this blog to be is something that makes people think, “Jeez, that guy’s gotten so preachy – what happened to the days when Terry was fun?”

I like to think that this blog is just a reflection of my real life, and I try to write as truthfully and transparently as possible. And the space I’m in on my journey does seem to place a lot of emphasis on the spiritual, on admitting my human frailty and flaws, on the awakening consciousness — and all that shit. But as evidenced by that last sentence, I like to laugh, I like to be offbeat, and I like to be weird. And I don’t want to lose sight of that just because I happen to be growing up mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.

So it is with this in mind that I give you — the random musings jotted down in my little pink journal that I carried with me everywhere at Burning Man this year. Similar to last year’s “P.S. Bullet Points” post, these notes are occasionally cryptic even to me, but most are linked to one-of-a-kind experiences that will never come my way again, thus making them priceless memories. Read On

Wannabe Zombie

Zombies are my guiltiest of guilty pleasures. I know there is utter silliness at the core of zombielore but I can’t help it. I just enjoy it so much. I love zombie movies, love zombie fiction – one of my favorite TV shows is “The Walking Dead”, which is set in the zombie apocalypse. And the zombie apocalypse itself is the perfect marriage of two of my favorite genres: tales of the undead, and tales about the end of the world.

The website makemezombie.com transformed my facebook profile pic into a work of ghoulish art.

I grew up on monster movies. Back in the 70’s, Oregon had a local television station that would broadcast old 50’s horror films late on Saturday nights on a program called “Sinister Cinema”, and that is how I was introduced to Dracula, Frankenstein, the Wolfman… all the classics. I would stay up (or try to stay up) and watch these movies, for they fascinated me in ways that I didn’t understand then, and don’t totally understand now.

By the time I was 13, I’d seen all sorts of scary movies, retro and modern, and thought there was nothing I hadn’t seen before. Vampires, aliens, creatures, slashers — they all entertained me. Then one Halloween, I caught an airing of “Night of the Living Dead” on TV, and was forever changed. Good lord, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. The dead — coming back to life! Terrorizing the living! Eating their flesh! It was crazy, low budget, black-and-white, and totally, absurdly horrifying. Did they really make a movie that featured a child eating her mother?

Since then, I’ve seen all the sequels, all the tributes, all the knock-offs. I’ve enjoyed the resurgence of zombie stories in the last decade, and when newer stories featured zombies that didn’t stagger along slow and stupid, but could move swiftly and run fast, my interest only increased. I have come to accept that zombie stories satisfy some weird craving I have for macabre entertainment. So when I saw that a local theater group in Orange County was putting on a stage version of the George Romero classic story, I was all in. Read On

A Dusty Little Secret

I had a secret, and I gave it away to a stranger in the dark.

This year’s trek to Burning Man was markedly different from my first journey last year. Most notably – I was not burdened with a heavy heart, as I was my virgin year. This year, I was joyous and happy and I took a newbie with me — and seeing the burn through her eyes was like seeing it for the first time myself. They say every Burn is different, and so far that appears to be true. Read On