I’m about to leave for Burning Man and I feel very lucky to say that. I first went 10 years ago, and this will be my 8th ‘burn’ since 1996. Though my enthusiasm has scaled down some, especially after the near-collective malaise of last year, I still expect it to be the single best highlight of the year … just like it has been the other seven. Molly, my partner in crime since 2001, wrote two great entries, one for herself and one for the SFist.

It was at last year’s event that I first understood that Burning Man allows someone like myself to feel 100% themself. This is a hard concept to explain I found, as we are always ourselves, but we often are hamstrung by worldly problems like car repairs, annoying neighbors, corrupt rulers and warring nations and whatever else pulls you from your center. At Burning Man I feel 100% myself … smoldering in what ironists call the existential burn. I don’t wear costumes so much present the person I most feel on the inside all year long. I don’t stay up until sunrise just to party, I find I do it for the pleasure of breaking the consistency that life often falls in to. I neither go to spectate or participate, I go to gather up a year’s worth of inspiration and try and share that inspiration to anyone I connect with.

In 2001, I spent 3 weeks building a insanely beautiful vertical windmill sculpture entire schemed and designed by a wonderful friend, Michael Taluc. We torched, welded, bent and sewed over 400 individual pieces and then assembled them over 8 very hot and long days. Our 3rd partner literally became unhinged for a 72 hour period and though we labored together his eyes were either wild or blank and conversation stopped altogether.

The finished product still brings goose-bumps to my arms and waves of joy to my heart. I posted a series of construction and completed images that I dug up. Michael always referred to his desert projects as fleeting moments of glory because your goal is so ambitious and the logistics, weather, participants are all X-factors that you may never succeed at all. So when you see it all working right for even five minutes, you know that was all you were going for, the elusive and fleeting moments of glory. Our anonymous project, after 18 days of straight work turned and turned and caught the heart of many a passerby for 60 hours or so before we removed the guy wires and let the wind knock down in 3 seconds what took us four days to erect. Thanks for all of that Michael.