Playabound

I wish I was, but sadly that is not the case.  My friends (not all, but a big enough chunk) are on their way, or are already at Burning Man.

I went 3 consecutive years (2000, 2001, 2002), missed two years, and went last year (2005).  The playa will always be home for me, and I feel an annual longing to return, like the Quickening summoning me to the Gathering, only no heads are being cut off.

What makes this particularly painful is that there are some old friends who are attending this year that I don’t get to see very often.  I was able to see them shortly the other night before they left, but that’s hardly the same as spending an intimate week with them in a place that we all call home.  This couple got married there in 2004, a year I missed, and on this trip they conceived their son, who I only met last week.  This will also be the first year for several old friends, and though my presence wouldn’t be necessary for them to have a good time, I only wish that I could be there to share in the good times and experiences.

I have made a solemn pledge that I will not go again unless I am taking my wife with me.  I made a similar pledge before, and intended to keep it, only Milca couldn’t make it, and had to break the plans to go, so I went without her.  Though I still had fun, I missed her dearly.  This is a mecca for creativity, and we are creative people.

So, before I can get her to the playa, I have promised her that we will go to Argentina together.  I have never left the country, so this would be my first trip to a foreign country, and it would also allow me to meet family that I have yet to meet.

Which leaves me here, longing to leave the country, longing to be on the playa, forced to go to school, and forced to go to work.

So ronery.