Iris and I pulled back in to San Francisco this evening, almost exactly to the minute one week after we left. I'll write much more later, but for the meantime, I'll share that we had the most sedate Burning Man experience plausible. No sunburns. No hangovers. Only small injuries (a fiberglass tent pole disintegrated in my hands, and the tent I was putting up ended up stained in many places by my blood). No violations of marital vows. No moving violations (and that was a rarity: Burning Man is considered an annual Festival of Taxing The Freaks Passing Through, and everyone who talked about their drive seemed to have gotten a ticket for $100-600+ for something or another).
I feel so homesick for Burning Man now; I want to be back padding through the dirt in my bare feet, opening a bottle of champagne right off in the morning, admiring the art cars. It is very good indeed to see my darling Lola & the Sober Husband, though.
Can't wait to hear how different the experience was when viewed through the lens of seeing it through Iris' eyes. Glad you had such an adventure.
I've been thinking about you all week. Attending that festival someday is on my bucket list, and I can only begin to imagine how creatively stimulating it must have been for Iris. Maybe when you have both recovered we can hope for some sort of Mother/Daughter highlights post?
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