Explosions
By Jon Fox
9.11.2001
It's 2001 and this morning I saw the world blow up.
My static filled TV screen plays, reports, replays the image of two towers,
the rock solid skyline I've always known come tumbling down in a cloud
of fire, smoke and dust. Thousands of people are immediately rocked by
the sight and sound of the explosion and I sit sterile at a distance,
unsure of how to process the images I am seeing. Are they real or just
another Hollywood special effect?
And then I think about Burning Man. And how, only a week ago, I was one
of thousands of people encircling a giant explosion of fire, smoke and
dust and how ecstatic the sight was and how much joy I felt to be home.
And how privileged I am to have witnessed this in my lifetime.
So, now I struggle to put pieces together. In such a short period of time
I have seen the absolute greatest spectacle of mankind -- the possibility
of Black Rock City, a city built on the foundation of it's own impending
destruction, and the absolute depths of humankind -- the purely vindictive
mass destruction of American icons and the countless lives lost in the
process.
When I see the Towers as part of the skyline I know so well, I think of
home, as in the place I am from. I consider my family and friends and
those experiences that have made me who I am. I spent 18 years in New
York knowing that the Twin Towers, like a good piece of pizza or my Mom's
warm blankets would always be there. Until, of course, someone takes them
away. Images of the home I love, destroyed by fear.
Which brings me back to Black Rock City, as Burning Man has become another
symbol of home -- an androgynous man who presides over his domain, welcoming
weary travelers every year. The only constant being his own fiery destruction.
This powerful image of my metaphysical home, destroyed... this time by
love.
In the days following the destruction of the Man, I felt within me a peace
I had not felt previously, a true understanding that everything was all
right the way it was and the way it would be. I am filled with joy of
the adventure I experienced each day and each night I spent there. Over
the two weeks I spent in the desert no experience was like another and
no person I encountered the same either. This city, immense in scope was
built purely on the spirit of all that works about humanity. Black Rock
City is about possibility; about creating from within for no other reason
than because we can. It is about art and connection; about freedom, peace,
adventure and destruction as a release of that which binds us. There is
no time, no money, no politics, no good, and no evil. There is what there
is and it is all brought in by the citizens of the city, for when there
is no city, there is nothing. Each person brings a gift, whether an engraved
necklace with a picture of the man, or a song, or back rub or drink of
water. Why? If you ask, you don't understand.
The very nature of the event attracts the truly greatest specimens of
humanity, for only the truly gifted would be prepared enough and interest
in taking on the harsh desert environment to create a gift as magical
as a city that is not there. There are metal sculptures that sprout colored
fire and giant mushrooms that you climb, interactive mazes, dance clubs
in the middle of nowhere, glowstick fisherman, life size Pac-Man, music,
dust, Emerald cities, re-imagined igloos and oh, my God, did you see that?
And then it's gone? Why? Why not? Does it have a purpose? Only that which
we say.
The shopping list alone is somewhat daunting: tent, sleeping bag, water,
rebar, furry hat, zip ties, can food, glow sticks, gas masks, costumes,
bike (decorated), lip balm, nail polish. Huh? It's all part of the experience
and all part in creating a community strength. It's the harsh environment
that brings us together. Sometimes, the worst brings out the best.
And it's all because of the people, the community that is created out
of Black Rock City, for one week in the desert and the other weeks not.
For me, it's about family. I went to Black Rock as part of a Nuclear Family,
a central group of authentic freedom, support and love. This group of
people truly represents the best that we as a race have to offer. Do we
have degrees and PhDs and wealth and understanding of quantum physics?
Maybe. Maybe not. It's not the point. What we have is each other and we
are only as good as the others in our family. The network of support is
a gift beyond words and it resonates with a sound, loud enough to destroy
a building.
So when I see the destruction of today and what is truly possible when
a small group of people so committed to something make it happen, I take
pause. If this faceless group, so committed to destruction can accomplish
what we, safe and sound in America never thought possible, I shudder to
think what's possible if another group did so out of freedom, peace, love
and creativity.
Burning Man is indeed a miracle and is something that we shall be thankful
for forever and ever. In two short weeks, I have seen all that is good
about humanity, as strange and perverse as so-called "normal"
people would have us (remember, we're the weird ones) and all that is
bad.
So, I watch my physical home covered in dust and smoke and think of my
(meta)physical home all covered in dust and smoke. One explosions over
turned by another and the eerie similarity of the two scenes. The background
is different. The foreground is different. But somewhere, deep inside
at the hottest part of the fire, they overlap. It's is in here I stand
and know that everything is still alright as long as we are all creating
and we are doing so together.
