staring at the burn, i was struck by the metaphor of the flame as life and experience - the way that the fire is really all happening at the point of contact, the disintegrating substrate, the fuel - this is the present moment, the thing that is un-graspable, the contact between self and other that is experience.
in this metaphor, the actual flames are your "awareness," as contrasted with the direct experience that is the combustion. the flames are the mind, pulling apart the consumed material, mixing the smoke and ash and consuming it further. i feel now, that the roaring, flowing, ferocious liquid shape of a bonfire is the shape of the mind, formed by the fuel and the dynamics of flame twisting and spiraling on itself, lunging for fuel, living only as long as it can feed. and it's not rained out.
and it could live forever. more or less. in theory. just like me.
transformus is so fucking perfect, it's almost unreal now. burning man was always a fascinating idea, but it had too many downsides, the distance, the cost, the desert, and, i know now, the size.
we partied in the forest, drinking spring water (and beer, wine, whiskey, etc). and it was around 1500 people, not tens of thousands. so when you saw someone, talked to them, liked them, you could trust that you'd see them again.
or i know that now, anyways. i spent a lot of time there in fear that i might never see certain people again. which is par for the course for most daily interactions, at a party, or in a city, on the street.
it's hard to make friends in cities. thats just one reason i dont like them, but it's damn important.
but in this village, in two days, it was nearly community. it's all terribly unsustainable, long term, for any variety of reasons, but for a few days, it's paradise. it's freedom, and beauty, and art, and sex, and insanity, novelty, community and perfection.
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