playa dust

they say the playa dust gets on everything, sticks to everything. i had nightmarish vision of this impending malady before we even got to the playa. but what i realized, as we approached black rock city, was that the playa dust signaled the very fact that we have arrived. that hellish place, crack-filled and dry lake bed, howling afternoon winds, it's so awful no living thing ever survives... i've never seen and ugly place look so beautiful.

i rode to the edge of the playa one afternoon, facing nothingness and imagined that i was there all alone. that afternoon-sun baked every moisture out of me and cast a long lost shadow that was half of me. i came, like most, to find the long lost version of myself. right there i began to realize that i came here not to find out who i was in the past, but to find who i am and who i can become.

but i am not alone. right behind me are a million lights, loud thumping music, insane art and tens of thousands of crazy and lovely people. i closed my eyes in hopes in imprisoning that curious dream.

there are a thousand of memories to write about, each of which cast a lingering smile. that memorable week spent with people i love. all my phenomenal friends who were in the same odyssey, who seeked and found whatever was unyielding and who i got to know their beautiful being. there are a few things that can describe the unfaltering and phenomenal energy that the whole place emmited, like one gigantic morphing and pulsating living thing... it was one of my most memorable experiences.

it is indeed true.. the playa dust does get into everything and sticks to everything. everyday i pick up something i own and remnants of the playa would float off... like some magic dust it would hypnotize me and electric memories would jolt me. i am sad at times because i miss it... but i hope to go back, to that ugly and god-forsaken dry lake bed... the most beautiful dusty place in the world.