Desires : Burning Man Calls Me
I've flirted with this world a lot over the years. I met my first conceptual artists in my teens, spent some time with a few Radical Faeries in my twenties, made Santa Cruz my home during my thirties, and in my forties I've sunned and soaked with strangers on tribal beaches from Florida to Vancouver and in hot springs under dripping redwoods, on the sides of mountains, along rivers, in rain and snow, and deep in Death Valley where I hung around the edges of the old hippie clan at Saline. And talked to burros.
I need to go to Burning Man. I think I may be waiting for me there.