As I wake up, I notice that it's still outside. Barely a breeze. What a change from the wild weather of Day 1! I'm excited about the prospect of seeing the city today through something else besides orange ski goggles and a wall of white dust. The sky is an electric blue and the morning sun seeps into my tent, warming my frozen skin with her golden rays. Last night was damn cold. I'm grateful I brought my bad-ass North Face sleeping bag.

Like a bee hive, with the first rays of sunshine, the city awakes. The camp to the right of me resounds with the deep thump of some rave tune and the loud hum of its ancient generator. I'm temporarily annoyed at the utter selfishness of someone blasting music at 6.30am. But - this is Burning Man, and techno music has become an integral part of its flavor. So I file it away under "The Right To Self-Expression" and move on.

The rest of my camp is still asleep as I set up our shower. It's hard to get the rope over the top of the 12-foot tall tripod to pull up the sun shower bag, but tying a shoe to the end of the rope gives it enough weight and leverage to hit the target. They say that necessity is the mother of invention, and I believe that this is nowhere more true than out here in Black Rock desert.

My left-side neighbors Gryff and Toddler (Gryff had been the one who jumped out at our car yesterday and made us camp next to them) gleefully announce at breakfast that they are getting married today. Gryff is delighted when he finds out that he has a photographer for his wedding (me), and as a 4-time Burner, he leans in to pass on one of Burning Man's most treasured wisdoms - four simple words: The Playa Will Provide. "With enough faith," he entrusts me, "you can get anything out here. Your heart's deepest desire, or your life's most pressing need." I cannot grasp yet how very true this will become for me only hours later.

With the wedding scheduled for 4pm, I have time to explore my surroundings and take care of business. I decide to ditch the bike for a while and go around on foot instead. You see so much less of the city by way of foot, but what you see is on a much more intimate basis. I stop frequently to chat with random strangers - something I would be hard-pressed to do in the outside world. But in a city where there is no commerce, no advertisement, and nobody judges you, a smile, a hug or a few minutes of time spent with someone is your currency. It's in ample supply, easily spent and often returned many-fold.

Center Camp - the lofty heart of the city, the place to buy coffee and ice (the only sanctioned commerce by the Burning Man organizers) and get your fix of people-watching. It's a whirling, twirling, spinning universe of people, always in motion. Some 70-year old man, sitting on a cooler, smiles and offers me a cup of Franzia blush wine. I gratefully accept. The cheap alcohol is cold and refreshing, and leaves me with a nice smooth buzz.



I move on to Media Mecca, to check in with the Burning Man PR folks. They make me sign a lengthy legal agreement that any picture I take becomes their property and bla, bla, bla. Uh-huh. They give me a green tag for my camera to signal to folks not wanting to be or accidentially photographed that I'm Press, and that Media Mecca will mediate in any arising disputes. Fine.



4pm. Gay wedding at the "Temple Whore". Gryff and Toddler are dressed in matching white t-shirts and boxers. The Master of Ceremonies is a tall man with striking blue eyes, adorned with a costume-grade Egyptian pharaho's headdress, a blue speedo and a white sheer night gown. The wedding guests are a 10-strong motley crue of wildly dressed and tattooed Canadians, who later turn out to be our neighbors.



Admittedly, I've never been to a gay wedding before. I have no clue what to expect. As it turns out though, it's quite possibly the most touching, spiritual and uplifting ceremony I've ever been to. The wedding guest join hands in a circle and pass their energy on to the grooms. The blessings spoken tell of love and overcoming the obstacles of a committed relationship in the face of adversity. I find myself wishing that conventional weddings could be this sincere.



6pm: I ride my bike out to the playa. The vast open space outside the city is mind-blowing. Liberating. All-encompassing. Soul-scorching. Once you've seen and experienced a space this large, this open, you are permanently branded by it. This is a solid space too - not like the sea which is ever-changing, alive, and at times violent. The playa is firm and grounding. It anchors your body, while liberating your soul. And I have an epiphany: Anything is possible. There are no limits. No restrictions. Life is what you make it.




Here, in this very place, the doors of perception are truly cleansed, and everything does appear as it is: infinite. William Blake was right. He would have totally dug Burning Man.

[Given the length of this post, I've decided to break it into two parts. Part 2 will follow in the next few days.]

Part 2 of Day 2

FIRST POST!!!!!1111eleven!1

(sorry, couldn't resist after chided everybody for not commenting before ;-).

Anywho, I'm looking forward to the rest of your stories -- anything that involves sex, drugs, and rock and roll is always good (and I want to hear more about this "oral sex tuesday") ;-)

Keep 'em coming!

Dude - first post? Last time I checked, I was a looooong ways away in popularity from Slashdork...

But heh - don't worry. I guarantee there to be more sex, drugs and rock 'n roll coverage ...