Our 2013 Burning Man Story

While our crew attends several festivals throughout the year, we hold a special place in our hearts for Burning Man.  No other event erases the line between art and community so completely, making it a perfect place for our work.  Like the world in a grain of – well – dust, Burning Man 2013 passed by in a poignant flash, yet left us with countless memories to reflect on.  We’re happy to share a few of them with you here.

We set out for Burning Man early on Sunday with the biggest build crew we’ve ever had.  Our timing probably couldn’t have been worse – the traffic heading into the desert was terrible, and we ended up stopped on the road for hours.  We made the best of it we could, brushing our teeth, dancing in front of the headlights, and singing songs with other burners. 

When we finally pulled into Black Rock City, we had been on the road for 18 hours, and the sun was just coming up.  Sleep would soon be impossible due to the heat, so we drank some coffee and set about building our camp.   As the sun passed its zenith, we had most of a shade structure, a working kitchen, and a handful of tents set up.  It was time to start work on the Garden of Missed Connections.

After spending long nights fixing last year’s Garden in the deep playa, we decided to try an experiment this year, and keep the Garden right next to our camp.  As we got our hand-held auger ready to dig holes in the ground, half a dozen neighbors came by to offer help and advice.  We must have looked nervous – the desert surface is famously tough, and some of us expected the auger to go in an inch and then spin us around.  To guard against this possibility, four of us held onto the auger and braced ourselves for impact. 

Much to our surprise, the drilling was easy.  John Vajda had the most construction experience and he shouted “Up!” and “Down!” to coordinate everyone.  Based on all the people that stopped to watch, it must have been a spectacle (later that day, we reduced the auger crew to just two people).

Not having a forklift this year, we decided to assemble our Garden towers on the ground, and then raise them up on ropes like we were building a barn.  A lot of our neighbors came by to help and we nervously guided the 18-foot tall creations into the holes we dug.  The hardest part was done, but it was getting dark, so we decided to get some much-needed rest.  By the end of Tuesday, our lanterns were hung in the towers, our control box was attached, and we were ready to enjoy the burn.  

On the whole, placing the Garden beside our camp didn’t work out the way we hoped.  Our towers were somewhat lost in the jumble of the city and we got far fewer visitors than we usually do.  Nevertheless, some people did come in and leave messages in our Book of Missed Connections.  We would stop by every day to read the new ones, whether silly or heartfelt, poignant or joyous.

The one great benefit of having the Garden by our camp was the chance to climb up into the towers for an amazing view of the city.  Each sunset, several of us would converge on the towers from multiple directions and climb up to the top.  It was a perfect lookout and we would often stay for an hour as the warm colors of the sunset gave way to the neon lights underneath.

As Gardeners of Missed Connections, we spend a lot of time thinking about our community and the lives that we touch, however briefly.  Our work rewards us with a sense of human closeness, and – at least for this Gardener – that closeness was more vivid in 2013 than ever before.  Our greatest memories come from the smallest moments – watching the stars together from the stillness of our camp, the generosity of a passing stranger, faces smiling in shared appreciation.  The Garden of Missed Connections is a window onto our own relationships, and we’re so grateful to everyone that supports us in this endeavor.  Until we build the next one, treasure the people you connect with, and find your sense of appreciation wherever you are!