[I realize, you have been patient, dear reader. So finally, here it is, in all its unabridged glory - my account of Day 3 at Burning Man (Days 1 and 2 are here, here, and here.]

As I step out of my tent door this morning, I can feel it - it's going to be a hot day today. There is barely a breeze, and the sun already bears down on Black Rock City with an unmistakable intensity.

I fix scrambled eggs for breakfast, and make chai. For some reason, even simple foods one is thoroughly accustomed to in the "Other World" taste vastly better out here on the playa. Biting into a cool green apple or a luscious strawberry becomes an event of deep pleasure, and I'm glad I stocked up on fresh fruit before coming out here. I ponder if the cause is the clean, dry environment of the desert - or the complete lack of olfactory and taste distractions. And maybe, part of the Burning Man experience just entails the heightening of one's senses...

I study the schedule for the day - "hey, today is Hump Day", the calendar of events suggests. "Spend some quality time today humping another human being. Pick the cutest person you can find, and remind them it's Hump Day." Aha. Duly noted... The most amazing and surprising thing about Burning Man is no doubt the non-stop, round-the-clock offerings of things to do - put on and supplied by mostly seasoned Burners. I had no idea this was even going on, but for weeks I had been secretly wondering what the hell 40,000 people are actually doing on a flat piece of land for an entire week, 24 hours a day (aside from drinking, dancing and screw.. ehhh.. camping). I guess the 40-page guide you get when you enter the city answers that.

There are "repeating" and "one-time" events. Between 10am and 2pm on this Wednesday, for example, I have the choice of either attending Heebeegeebee Yoga; The 2nd Annual World Naked Bike Ride; workshops on Your Energy Body; Making Wings or a Hair Hat, or - most intriguingly - I can learn how to Magically Manifest Anything. Wait a minute - I already know how to do that ... Seriously though, the choices are so vast, it makes one's mind spin.



I realize that the weather today is being extra-ordinarily merciful to me as a photographer (no wind, no dust, and blazing blue skies), and so I determine that I will try and make the most of it. I mark Lego Block City, The Naked Bike Ride (hey, where else can you see something like *that*?), the Fire Spinning Workshop and the Gold Parade (see above) in my event schedule as possibly interesting photo subjects. It pains my soul however knowing that I'm going to miss the Extraterrestrial Conference (Topic: Discussing the plight of humans, and how the aliens can help save us from ourselves), the Sextoy Making Workshop, and the Mutant Vehicle Social. Oh, well. I guess you just can't do and see everything ... Things are further complicated by the fact that I left my watch at home (I thought I was being clever ...), and really have no clue what time it is at any point in the day - and so I'm resigned to drift through time and space at my confused whim. Darn.

Plus, not having a real costume at my disposal makes me feel very, very naked out here. Luckily however, there is help for Newbies like me out here - the good people from the Costume Exchange at Esplanade and 8 o'clock. Mostly costume designers from the L.A. movie industry, they have access to large amounts of used and new outfits, and have taken it upon themselves to put everyone not actually owning a proper costume into one. It's a sort of a ... citizen service.


(see? That's what I mean by being "properly costumed" ...)

The large golden dome shimmers in the desert heat as I pull up to it on my bike. Inside, large boxes and rudamentary hangers display a choatic array of outfits ranging from the bizarre (no, I don't think I want to look like Julie Andrews in "The Sound of Music", thank you), to the impossible (not even Kate Moss could fit into that - not to mention *me*). After a while of rummaging I do come across a pair of cool black bat wings however - and since this is a "trade" establishment ("We'll take Hugs or Drugs!" shouts one of the proprietors) and I momentarily don't have any drugs on me (how unprepared of me!), I opt for hugging the nice man at the door. Which seems to satisfy him just fine as trade for the wings.



I strap the wings to the back of my bike, and decide to explore this part of town with my camera a bit. I come across the "Titty-Totter" - an oversized Teeter-Totter that offers its fun services to mostly topless girls for the general amusement of the crowd. An admiring throng has gathered to watch the latest installment of two drop-dead gorgeous Asian girls, wearing only bikini bottoms, enthusistically straddling the machine. As they ride it up and down, hollering and laughing, some innocent kid decides to aim his digi-cam at the scene. Instantly, one of the girls yells at him: Hey! You can take a picture - but if I find it on the internet somewhere, I *will* hunt you down and cut off your dick! The crowd roars with laughter, and the poor kid retreats blushing.

I float and drift through the streets, through this most incredible array of absurd camp sites, insane art cars, and bizarrely-dressed people, marveling at the relentless outpouring of human creativity onto the blank desert canvas. A buff guy at a lemonade stand gives me a refreshing drink, and a cute lesbian in a see-through dress lets me photograph the tattoe on her back. As I inquire about the female figure in her tattoe, she jokes "This way, I always have my bitch on my back".



I remember seeing another public service place, the "Astral Hairwash", half a block down the road from my camp. Being that my hair is still infused with playa dust from that storm on Day 1, I figure that it couldn't hurt to check the place out. Like in a real salon, you have to sign up and wait your turn. The waiting room however sports only one kind of literature: porn mags. So I settle in, and leafing through a "Playboy", I wait for my name to be called. With water such a precious commodity in this desert (and a well-functioning evaporation pond being equally rare), the Astral Hairwash is a popular place - and a very special treat. While laying on the slanted plywood guerney, a volunteer wets my hair, drizzles aromatic shampoo on it and begins a slow and soothing ritual so relaxing, that I momentarily drift off into a most pleasant nap ...



Thank you for your attention, dear reader. I hope you have enjoyed today's installment. Your patience is most appreciated. Part 2 will follow shortly ...