4 - Year of the Rat (early)

Year of the Rat

The Pig is dead. Long life the Rat.

This past year, that of the Pig, was a year of self-celebration, in which one’s path ran a locally flatline. Many steps were taken safely away from the precipice. Looking back it is clear the road was not flat but rose gradually all along and over it significant heights on a stable platform were attained.

This next year, the Rat, is a year of high activity in which effort is rewarded.

But if ever a year required a positive attitude it is the year of the Rat. Otherwise depression will corner us in holes entirely unsuitable to our wonderful existence. An apparently insurmountable obstacle is never such. Sniff about - there’s always a way through or around.

Like the metaphor, the journey is the trip not the destination, so dream fulfilment is the endeavour not the achievement. So be grateful for the hurdles, it is them that in the end will define the satisfaction of the achievement. Appreciate them rather as indicators that there is a better way.

Always remember an obstacle is not the goal, so focus beyond it.

A good mantra for this year is ‘How can I do it?’ as opposed to the ever popular ‘I can’t do it’. And there is ALWAYS a way – action has its own magic. Many things can be achieved provided they are approached with organisation, energy and a relaxed focus. While the Pig got us out of danger. And next year’s Ox is the super builder, this year’s ground-level labour is even more vital. Without its achievements nothing grander will be attained by the time of the Tiger.

Follow those instincts. You’ve come a long way from the precipice – so backtrack if needs be. Sometimes that’s the fastest way forward. More importantly make no assumptions that while backtracking, things have remained the same. Every situation and place is new and more may be gained from the familiarity with the position. While backtracking you may find the reasons for leaving that situation are gone and that the reversal of direction is indeed now the right way. But beware of traps – things that look easily for the taking are not NECESSARILY for the taking ESPECIALLY if it is in a place you feel you have been before.

While it is good to take advantage of life’s random fortunes one cannot count on them. It is through effort, energy and integrity that one’s existence and prosperity is ensured.

This is a good year to accept change though. To realign one’s goals as old ones may no longer be applicable or good enough. Rigidly sticking to a dream made many years ago by someone much younger and less wise than you are now can in itself be the distraction that prevents the fulfilment of a much more worthwhile accomplishment or state of being. Despite what I have written about there ‘always being a way’ it is important still to “accept loss forever”. There is a difference.

Clear Skies

Doctor Lobster

I’ll add 2 personal notes regarding goal shifting from my archives as case studies.

- I once used to claim that my ultimate goal was to leave the earth’s atmosphere and go into space. I recognised and commented subsequently that how could I have been so foolish to be willing to settle for so little.

- Many years ago I concluded that by 37 I would not think about money anymore. “Thoughtless 37”. It was not a VERY serious goal but I think by placing this even laughably in my life I have found myself thinking about money a lot – increasingly as I approach that age. It was made by a youngster unaware of life’s wonders – a youngster who quite frankly bears little resemblance to myself right now. I won’t be held to ‘goal-success or failure’ by some strange spotty kid I barely recognise. If I think about money after that age then so be it. There’s plenty of other cooler stuff to think about between then and now too. And if I were to seriously try to achieve it then I would not be gnawing on one of life’s legbones as I am right now. And that would be a waste of very good bone marrow.

And would I be unhappy if I achieved it at 38? 40? 50? Never? I should not rely on such a thing for my happiness. I hope you understand.

3 - Crab is off the menu

21 January

I resorted to chocolate tonight for company rather than make the effort with anyone out there in the real world. I guess I’m just in the readjustment phase of now being on my own as a stranger in a strange land (Warwick and Patricia having wandered off on their own life’s path). I did acquire the chocolate on the street from a street vendor but in the end I did not really like her nor her chocolate which was all weird regional fruit-flavours. However I had a super great street-meat meal from another vendor lady who was really cool – a plate of spinach rice, with creamy prawn sauce and a pancake filled with meat for about $3. Very nice. Not quite enough for me so now at 8 o’clock, I am thinking of going back for another round of that grub. Only thing is, most of her dishes contain crab.

And unbeknownst to you I have added them to my sentimental list of animals I will not eat as I just like them as animals too much. Several days back I encountered a whole section of the process by which crabs get from mangrove swamp to dinner plates in these parts. We were cruising down this gorgeous river delta on a 6 hour boat trip. Noisy little diesel thing but we’d hired it between the 3 of us (warwick and patricia) so there were just us and the crew of 3 – 1 captain and 2 teenagers. It was super hot and we lazed and snoozed and tanned and did our portuguese lessons. It was great. At one point I went up onto the little roof – tin – hot and lay there like a cat watching the amazing mangrove swamps go by. The kids were having a sneaky joint at the back of the boat and offered me some which I accepted – why not? The joint was small, pure and rolled in a piece of a4 paper with blue-lines and all. Pretty funny. Nicely stoned too, no paranoia, just mellow – added to the drifting state of bliss... We repeated the experiment with Warwick a few hours later at sunset to similar floating success. Warwick said this was a perfect travel moment... I added that it was the type that one would really want to remember but weren’t going to as we were smoking grass at the time. Seems I was wrong. I do remember it and now it is committed to the collective memory by me writing about it. Nice. I’m glad. See note ** below

But wait this is after the crab moment – rewind...

We were in the town of Paranaiba at the head of a river delta. This town was over an hours asphalt drive from Camocim which is an hours drive by 4x4 over dunes and along the beach crossing 2 small rivers by ferries from Jericoacoara where we’d spent the last 2 weeks learning to surf etc... And Jeri is a 6 hour bus ride from Fortaleza which is where I flew into. My point is we’d travelled a long way to some pretty deep and dark turf.

ANYWAY – All of these towns but mainly Fortaleza have a huge appetite for crab and Fortaleza is large – 2.3million and filled with crab-hungry gringo’s...

occasional motorboats filled with men with spades. A crab’s main defense is to scuttle into its hole when approached but it has no answer to the ruthless spade which transforms its havenAt the start of of our delta trip we encountered the crab-boats. Simple punt or oar or into a terrible trap. And already by noon, several thousand crabs, all tied together in bundles lie on the shore in the baking sun. They remain there all day until nightfall when a truck or 2 arrive to collect the several tens of thousands of crabs and take them to Fortaleza (you know amidst this writing I stopped to check the spelling of Fortaleza – somehow I feel ashamed of that...). Apparently at least 60% of the crabs die en route which means they don’t get sold or something. Its an incredible waste. Some effort is made to keep them alive during the day by piling green leaves onto them and splashing them every now and then with water. But their waving claws and legs were quite a disturbing sight. I accept people are going to eat crabs but I was horrified at the wastage – they could take so many less if they could just be marginally more efficient!

Naturally I am aware of the hypocrisy in all of this (I eat many animals and many of them are slain in a brutal and horrid fashion etc...) but well, its my life and all of us have our own reasons for the sentimental things we do. I had the over-riding urge to rescue at least one of these poor darling creatures (yes I really am fond of them!) but failed on that occasion as we left... The next morning in a different town I did try to buy one in a market but despite being told where they were I could not find them so failed once again in this mission. I was also somewhat distracted by encountering several cow hearts and other body parts on hooks.

My quest remains on-track though. I will save a crab. And I will return it to its habitat. And it will probably not even realise its fortune. And it’ll probably just get recaught again the next day. But maybe not. Maybe that crab will go onto to fulfill its full crabness. Either way I will not know. I know the gesture is only tokenist but at least I will believe that there is a crab out there that is linked to and alive because of me. It will be like Schrodinger’s Crab – it may be alive if I do not know it is dead. So it can live for as long as I and any memory of it I pass along survive. Like the Little Prince who upon finding vast fields of roses on earth learns that what is special about his rose on his planet is that it is his rose. It is the rose he knows and loves. So for me too, I will know there is one crab out there that is my crab, one I love and one I know.

And by way of illustration ... To add to these words are a couple of pictures - above...









I like jellyfish too – very much. In fact I know this great jellyfish dance to go with a song “brothers and sisters, ladies and gentlemen, dance like we’ve removed your skeleton! Jellyfish, jellyfish, jellyfish...” But I do not have to DECIDE not to eat them too. Or at least that is not a hard decision at all. There were loads of them washed up the shores in one of the areas we were in. While I’m sorry some of them get washed up - its better seeing them washed up and than finding them that certain other way.







This was all en route to a region known as the Lencois Maranhenses which is truly an astonishing place. A region of vast white sand dunes. The sand is super fine – the finest sand I’ve ever encountered - the playa at Burning Man is annoyingly finer but it is dust not sand. During the rainy season there are 1000’s of lagoons between these dunes and apparently it stands a chance to become one of the 7 new natural wonders of the world. Rumour has it there is a vote going on to redefine these. Check out www.new7wonders.com . This was not the rainy season but it was astonishingly beautiful nonetheless. Its a harsh land of huge contrast – lush mangrove swamps right alongside pure desert dunes. It boggles the mind that they can co-exist so closely though I suppose man’s environment emulates this too with the super rich palaces interspersed between the favela multitudes.

27 January

But I’m not there anymore – now I’m on a speck of a paradise island – fernando de noronha – 500km off the brazilian coast. Its insanely gorgeous and ridiculously romantic. Coming to a place like this alone feels like a bit of an error. Its been a bit of a chore watching all the loved up couples soaking up the love island atmosphere. And I will admit its pushed me dangerously close to reopening the position of girlfriend within my life. Ho hum. Nothing to be done about it now. Attached are a couple of shots of two girls I tried to chat up on my birthday (26th). The exchanges were fleeting – its tough not being able to speak portuguese very well - though this is improving all the time.








And the crabs on this island are super insane! Everywhere. And noisy – I’ve never really heard them do much but here they make quite the racket down on the ocean shore. I also saw some sort of seasnake today lurking amongst some rocks. It saw me too. Twice it popped its head around a rock. I think it was about to strike at a crab I was photographing. Then on seeing me it retreated back underwater/rock. I think my presence might have saved that crab’s life today too. So it goes. Its not THE ONE I WILL save. And I do have a short video capturing this snake popping its head around the corner and retreating so I was not hallucinating – or at least so was my camera.

So an observation or 2 regarding relationships. As a VERY general rule life outside a long-term relationship (LTR) tends to be more up and down than that inside a relationship (defined as positive, stable and loving not psychotic and destructive). However the lows outside a relationship represent a greater decrease in value than the highs represent an increase.

To illustrate – and please see note below ***
Range of emotional charge within:
- Healthy good loving LTR you want to be in: 5 – 8
- No relationship at all: 1 – 10
- Increase in intensity of low: -4
- Increase in intensity of high: +2

One reason one doesn’t go below a “5” in a relationship is that the other one will always be able to offer support and nurturing in darkish times. Another is that in a relationship one very rarely allows oneself to let go all the way and dig into those inner recesses of anguish cos that’s not going to be appreciated by the partner. That would be regarded as rocking the emotional boat and definitionally would then not be in the category of good loving relationship you want to be in – well at least not for the other person and it takes 2 to make a relationship. It is also my belief that the lowest common denominator effect of 2 people being involved in a relationship tends to make for accepting acceptable compromises rather than going wholeheartedly for what one really wants. And this prevents the rising above an 8. I know that’s gonna get shot down by many of you but bear this in mind. I am talking about a LONG TERM RELATIONSHIP and not about the short term moments of amazingness so often encountered in the courting and honeymoon phases or prevalent in the short term love affair ended only by geographical dislocation (STELAGED). But rather accepts the fact that marriage for love is like fine wine – over time it is soured down to a household vinegar. No matter. I’m also accepting that the LTR holds a distinct advantage in this respect. And yes I have actually thought it might be really nice to have a proper GF again.

I also thought about shaving my beard off to see how young I can still look but I chose not to as its turned a real blonde in all the sun I’ve seen and I think I quite like it. Case study – I would be able to send you a nice macro shot of my new blonde beard if I had a partner to take such a shot and make sure it was in focus etc... But then I also suspect that I would not be writing you all this long email. Cynical? Yes, a little. I think its true that one of the reasons I dislike being in a LTR is that I still don’t know how to be in one and still be myself. I do blame myself for that inability not the lady. When the time comes however – I expect I will have no real choice in the matter.

Now I know I have not told you ANYTHING at all about so many places – the sand dunes, the mangrove swamps with their seahorses, sao luis with its reggae and dilapidated menace, Olinda and all the pre-carnaval festivities and so on and perhaps I will in time but its been 4 weeks today I arrived here and there’s been barely an hour of boredom in that time. Its quite remarkable in fact how many things one can find to do when one has nothing at all to do. As I have not said it yet... Brazil is stunning and a truly remarkable place – its great! Come on over...

Magic

X h

* incidentally I have placed this and the other 2 things I previously wrote on a blogpage – its fledgeling but a good place to store this stuff so people can easily be referred to it... Here’s the site www.doctorlobster.blogspot.com/

** don’t get all worried about this – I’m not smoking any stuff really – this was just one of those great random travel moments and not symptomatic of any greater leanings toward drug usage.

***this is Lobstonian unapplied and unevidenced meta-thysics in case you take it too seriously and question my data. In other words, I’m making it all up.

what's in the box...

2 - Despatches - Happy Happy

Beloveds,

New Years Day despatches from Jericocoara in Northern Brazil

Salient point about this tiny little tourist place – there's a huge sand dune just to the left of the town. Last night a thousand people sat on it, welcomed the new year in and appreciated the rather more spectacular than expected double firework display from it.

Everyone wears white which is a great tradition and provides a level of cohesion and unity to the throng. Warm and welcoming. The best part was offering a flower to the sea god 'Jehemboah' and then jumping over seven waves in the sea making a wish at each one. 7 wishes is quite a lot really and when you consider how many people were out and about that night making all these wishes shortly after midnight...

"Please hold wisher – we're experiencing higher than expected wish requests. Fulfilling your wishes is important to us so please be patient, your wish will be fulfilled as soon as a god becomes available."

What a fabulous tradition – 7 wishes every new year – that's a pretty rich wish count really. I almost ran out of things to wish for. Yeah right.

But my last wish was the one that suddenly rang true – it went straight on to become a resolution really. That I simply be the tool of the multiverse. To be as an empty vessel to be filled and for others to drink from. In this way to serve the universe's purpose. That and to enjoy the freedom of the moment with the wildest abandon possible. To throttle caution in the waves close to the shore which is probably a surer way of dealing with it than merely throwing it to the wind – though this is a very windy region - vis a vis it's a windsurf/kitesurf resort.

Warwick, Patricia and Paola were the notable company for New Year's Eve. Today I had my first swim in the sea here and tomorrow will be my first surfing lesson. Eagerly awaited. I also noted there is a lot of octopus on the menu's here. Octopii remain the one thing I do not eat out of sentimental appreciation for their existence but their repeated culinary presence must indicate that they are prevalent in this region and I do so yearn to meet one in the wild. I forgot to wish that I could befriend one but that'll be my next wish as soon as I garner another which given the super starry night-skies should not take long. There'll be shooting stars a plenty no doubt.

Thing observed and commented on which is obvious but only WHEN it is pointed out:

Just because someone is right does not mean everyone else is wrong... Sometimes both people are right. This is that rare circumstance known as being 'in agreement'. Yes this is VERY obvious but curiously wasn't on New Years Eve.

That'll be me for now... For all of you I truly hope that 2008 will bring unbounded joy and that you're able to reap the full reward of every experience that comes your way.

Best

Dr Lagusta

This town also has loads of horses in it... Its pretty cool wandering around at night and having dark shadows neighing at you...

1 - For Up to Over 9 Months

Well hello there,

As ever with these missives – many of you know some of the news and many of you don’t hence I have to tell (nearly) all. This one’s short(ish) ...

Through a very rapid series of offers, negotiations, incidents, mishaps, adventures, fortunes, coincidences, planned and unplanned encounters in this and other dimensions I’m cheesing it up in the business lounge in Frankfurt en route to Brazil.

Its not work but it is not a holiday – it is my life. And it seems to be unfolding second by second – new experiences abound. The one I am plotting RIGHT now is a shower here at the airport. I’ve never had one at an airport. Naturally as I financed this ticket myself I am flying economy but the rewards of many years of miles accumulation from mine and other business trips have rewarded me with access to the ‘invitation only’ lounge even on economy flights - finally!

Anyway I finished Doomsday (the movie) just before Christmas. Prior to that I had agreed to go onto another film Castlevania straight away – that was going to be an excellent adventure – shooting back in South Africa for a quintiple Summer (though it would have cost me my Springs) then continuing for another 6-8 months in Los Angeles - excellent! I was a little unsettled at the idea of diving straight into yet another HUGE project without my much muttered about ‘look around this planet’ but to be paid to work on a movie in those places – great. And having the same studio using me again immediately is surely good testament to a job well-done and would cement myself into this creative role of Visual Effects Supervisor. So I made all the necessary plans and began to formulate my life around being away from London for over a year which involved renting my apartment out, stuffing all my outfits and junk into storage etc. I was also purchasing a friend’s house in london and would need to find tenants for that too. Still, living rent free for another year is very lucrative too. It was as if a magical flying carpet had drifted under my feet. However the minute I’d settled myself comfortably onto it it was whisked out from beneath me care of the script writer’s strike! Rats! I had a hideous emotional day in losing this opportunity for it spelled the end of my london property dreams which impacted on the lives of friends too. But realistically I had no choice. Yet with every lead lining there comes a silver cloud. And suddenly the world lay at my feet available to be explored. Money in the bank, no mortgage, career in good shape, House available to rent out to reduce expenses? Turkish house already rented out for the year.

It all felt very much like - ‘Life is what happens while you’re busy making plans’ - so make a lot of plans!!

So I’m off for a small tour of the world – starting in Brazil with Warwick and Patricia and then who knows what or where. The first goal is to learn how to surf. Someone may come along and ruin things by offering me some jolly good job or something but if that does not happen then I expect I will meander around South, Central and North America for a bit, hoping to encounter Pearl on her return from Antarctica then nip over to Mongolia for the eclipse of 1st August and return to Burning Man at the end of August. As far as plans go its very loose. I make no promises that I’ll be away for a long time. Who knows. The amount of loot in the bank may deplete much faster than expected allowing the freelancer insecurity to over-ride my happy-go-lucky, devil may care attitude.

What I am very aware of though is that I am extremely fortunate to have this wonderful opportunity and freedom in my life. I want you to know that my seizing of it is in honour of the inspiration all of you have been to me.

Enough for now... I am freshly washed after my shower and need to board a flight to the far side of the world where I expect to laugh and cry for the love of life.

Clear skies my beloveds.

Dr Lobster.

Xxx

The High!!!

Welcome back, here’s part 2!

I wish to applaud how I have discovered the benefits of a drug largely new to me. People have been addicted to this one for centuries. Yet if one can hold off devouring certain common drugs then when one finally does partake the beneficial ‘high’ is extra rewarding. Much like one gets more benefits from going to university as a mature student rather than a whippersnapper fresh from school. This drug has been as good, similar to and curiously as inspiring as Absinthe.

And like absinthe I realise it is important to NEVER under any circumstances have more than 2 in one day or it may cost you an ear. I will also add that I only know this through PARTIAL empirical evidence. I have never myself had more than 2 absinthes in one day but I have had 2 on 3 occasions. On each of these the person I was with had a third, went completely NUTS. It was always I that bore the scars from those evenings.

I’ll not drag it out anymore but I am finally discovering the utter ‘creative fix-it’ joy of COFFEE. Wonderful. I’m glad I avoided it for so long to make use of it in this way now. I understand that this effect will wear off and I may never catch the same high again but no matter I get it now. In just the same way I ‘got’ surfing after just one lesson and now yearn for another opportunity to properly learn how to do THAT. Take note universe – I’m up for an assignment in a location that’d afford that opportunity.
I forgot to mention that I do not take all the shots I show with these musings – I favour mine where I can but use other people’s from our camp to show the event as best as possible. Notably I did not take the one with the trucks and rainbow – I wish! And this time I did not take the double rainbow one either from this round.

Many of you know me as a solar eclipse-chaser and this year as an extra cool treat there was a Total Lunar Eclipse on our first night. As it happened I was ‘man-down’ with a super bad cold and chest cough compounded by exhaustion from lack of sleep and jetlag. I just wanted to sleep and knew I should but how on earth could I of all people not stay up until 2.30 am to catch the deep red umbral phase of this phenomenon? So of course I pushed through and did. As a result I also witnessed the premature burning of The Man by an ‘individual’.

It seemed so unlikely that I was kind of in denial as I cycled out towards the place the man should’ve been but where a fire was burning instead. After years of people threatening to burn the bugger before the scheduled time, a prankster/performance artist had finally managed it. For me the “BURNING OF THE MAN” is not the highlight of the festival at all, in fact its rather random to me and I attach little significance to it. So I did not really care much at the time. I was just mildly annoyed in that I had planned to photograph the lunar eclipse and the man in the same frame after which I could’ve happily retreated to the RV to get more sleep having acquired my eclipse photograph of the event. Now I would have to find some other iconic thing about burning man to include in a snap with the eclipse. Eventually I got a barely satisfactory snap with one of the city ‘lamps’ and another with the bendy bus galleon.

I’d like to claim the eclipse meant more to me than it did that night but oddly I felt a little more duty-bound on this occasion than truly relishing it as the remarkable astronomical event during which is the only time we can see earth’s ever-present shadow. Of course I did appreciate its beauty and the moment but I was pretty ill and shattered. I guess Solar Eclipses are really my thing. I returned to sleep and managed to lie in until at least 1030, which can be very difficult as the day gets so hot so fast. Being in a tent can be unbearable by that time. This is one thing that makes an RV a better, if much more expensive option than a tent.

Every day like that first day, contains so many sights and sounds. Amongst these the Interaction Café stood out. Yes – they don’t serve food or drink! No - they serve INTERACTIONS. We arrived (Katie, Skez and I) and were ushered into a sumptuous restaurant by the maitre’d and flustered over by a group of waiters. Lovely chaps – splendidly half-dressed. Offered a table for 4 in case another guest arrived. We each picked an “h’orderve” from a proffered tin box. I forget what the others had but mine was ‘Perform an INTERPRETIVE DANCE on a theme suggested by one of your compatriots’. I can’t remember the suggestion but I did a dam buster flying around the room impersonation ending by revealing my underpants, which had the word ‘end’ written on the bum. The chaps who were running this Café were really funny and constantly making us and the other ‘diners’ feel great. As a main course, Skez had a non-contact ‘Blowjob’ while Katie had the ‘Human Camera’. I had the ‘Super Slo-motion Race’ that I shared with 2 waiters and Skez. This involved trying to travel about 3m as slowly as possible while tensing every muscle. VERY silly and very funny. I wish I did a snap to illustrate this place with as a picture does say 1000 words and it was a superb example of people going out of their way to ensure you have a great time.

Another thing I love doing is going Deep Playa alone on my bike. This is into the wide expanse of desert around the city in which various artworks have been dotted around. Once again, these artworks are pretty much created and installed at the artists expense (some of the bigger ones are funded by some of the event ticket purchase) and effort for your enjoyment and their self-expression. Doing this early in the week one can appreciate the solitude more as there are far fewer people but still enough to enjoy the odd random encounter. I found some good stuff. A field of a thousand silver windmills, a lone chair with a lone tree and a book with a poem about the last tree. A couch on which I had a short nap – aah. See snaps as I found it and as it had become by the end of the week, showing its evolution. There was a note on it describing the couch as the world’s smallest inn – ‘stay as long as you like – take the gift left by the last person and leave one in its place.’ My gifts were chapsticks with personalised stickers on them, along with individual pin-on buttons. I left these and took a scrap of paper on which was written this: “Accept loss forever”. Pretty ominous and rang a deep chord within me.

I administered some Third Aid in the form of a UV-active dolphin tattoo to ‘Pineapple’ of Los Angeles. To preserve water I administered this tattoo with saliva – it’s a desert after all! She and her friend Robyn were hanging out at the Big Rig Jig which is rather a good example of how bloody nuts this place is in terms of its art! I gifted them several of my buttons in what was the closest thing to a horse trade I had at BM. Robyn was wearing a badge saying “Don’t harsh my mellow” and I kinda REALLY needed that to give as a gift to another friend in dire need of just such a badge.

By nightfall I got back to camp but the others had already gone out. I randomly found them inside the Department of Playa Security – a theme camp ensuring Al-quaeda would not find a foothold in Black Rock City. To gain entrance I was rigorously searched by ‘Able’, a very able-bodied uniformed anti-terrorist agent who was quite convinced I was hiding bombs inside my mouth that only her tongue could detect. Rules is rules and while I knew I’d placed no bombs in my mouth one can never be sure that some other fiend hadn’t. I was relieved to eventually be given the all clear.

I had an encounter at Camp Validate because of a ‘u-turn girl’. This involved me bursting into their fantastic tent brandishing a riding crop, announcing ‘Ha ha – you have an intruder… and he’s armed… what’re you going to do?’ Much laughter… cries of ‘Give him a drink!’ A ‘u-turner’ is someone you do a u-turn for after you’ve cycled past them to ensure an interaction. It may be their cool outfit, gorgeous looks, the vodka jellies they’re giving out and so on. When I explained why I’d ‘u-turned’ and burst into the tent intent on conversing with this particular Lovely visible from the street, her reply was ‘Well, that’s ME validated!’ Then she gave me a rubber stamp to mark the word on her lovely tummy. This was that camps gift – providing validation for people on the playa. And always accompanied with some form on glowing praise for the thing one was being validated for and congratulatory alcoholic beverage of your choice. Later in the week in a slightly down moment I returned seeking my own validation. It worked – I felt much better afterwards though the strong mojito definitely helped!

We moved on. Finding a huge fairground creation involving 6 giant horses all moving up and down on poles. A hip-hop DJ was crunching out some great grindy chunes and soon as you like we were all over these horses dancing and messing around. There I met Saturn, a lady on stilts dancing next to me and while I was dancing on the horse, things were great but once I dismounted it became hard for her to stoop to my level. Stilt it was lovely while it lasted. Stilts equals bad news for conversation and smooching so bear that in mind if you’re planning a career in stilt walking. I doubt the guidance counselor will mention THAT aspect of the job. See inactive daytime snap of the horses thing quite a different place when not lit up nor surrounded by 200 dancing mad folk.

We spent some time hanging out near the fire twirler stage – this area is by no means the only place that fire twirlers operate, they do it bloody everywhere, but it’s a particularly good one with lots of extra visibility and drama being added by a circle of propane spewing gas towers. Amongst other things I saw here was a super remarkable fire hula-hoop girl and 2 huge guys with giant fireballs on chains doing what I hope was a pre-choreographed performance. Thinking about BM now I bet those 2 dudes didn’t even know each other and met on the stage for the first time that night. Safety Third! A constant amazement at BM is the quality of these performances. Always astounding. See snap for fireball guys. Also see snaps from Part 1 for hula fire-girl.

That’s just a light hazing of some of the stuff that happened the Tuesday – which was really my first day there.

The fact that none of this entertainment is provided by the organizers often makes people surprised to hear that one has to pay for a ticket too. The average ticket price is $250 so they are not too cheap either. Some of this money funds art, some of it funds the organization’s full-time staff, more of it pays for insurance, police hire, rental of the land, hire of earthmoving equipment, cranes and so on. However I also learned this year that the organisation supplies everybody who wants to use it with free propane. It is Burning Man after all. Apparently this one crazy art-piece which is a giant ‘X’ of propane towers spewing fireballs in series somewhat controlled by spectators pressing buttons burns $20,000 of propane a night. Seems unlikely but then I have no idea how much propane costs and this thing sure uses a lot of it! See snap from part 1 for this ‘X’ artwork.

Jay and I had volunteered as ‘Greeters’ on the gate from midnight to 4am on the Wednesday night. We did this the year before and had hugely appreciated it. Last year Domenique and I did it unofficially with Jay but this year I had committed to it beforehand. I’d decided I’d be in my fun policeman mode, wanted to cut an officious figure and be able to demand ‘papers’ or else from the new arrivals I wore a military uniform/polo outfit (see snap).

It was even more nuts than the year before with many more arrivals than at the same time last year. The satisfaction of being that person there to welcome all arrivals ‘home’ knows scant equal. Welcoming them with hugs, smiles, delight, silly banter and trading a tale or 2 then giving them the official warnings about driving and not putting foreign objects in toilets, finally handing out maps and so on. Of course it’s even better when a vehicle turns up containing virgins to initiate. This year officially spanking was off the initiation menu as someone sued someone the previous year. So we were left to initiate the virgins with bell-ringing, line crossing, playa dust angels and so on and of course if their friends requested the DELUXE greeting experience. This year the indefatigable Brian Spaley joined us and amongst others we had the delightful company of Hula, Keeper and Molly from Playa of the Apes. Out of Seattle these lovelies had erected a papier-mâché statue of liberty rising from the sands outside their cocktail tent. Coincidentally I’d met them all earlier that day while exploring the city.

I wonder if us greeters are regarded as an obstacle to getting into the main event by those who’ve driven long and hard to arrive late at night. Then I remember the super smiles these cars all contain as we bound up to them and ‘interact’. Never once have I had a bad response from someone I ‘greeted’. Though this time that could also have been to do with Hula’s ahem... special assets and her willingness to display them to arrivals. Of course I had to report her to Jay (he’d been appointed chief-greeter - hooray!) for the unauthorised display of goods without the required quality checks but after a thorough examination it was concluded they were more than acceptable. But even without her when I would introduce myself with my playa name - Doctor Lobster – without fail they’d break into a smile, laugh and I hope feel a little more likely to appreciate the absurdity of our existence.

Some of the cooler ‘greets’ included some Brazilians requesting the Deluxe Greeting Treatment for the 2 virgins in their group. Enough girls who love a man in uniform to make THAT outfit worth repeating next year. Also a lone French Dude who’d been at his desk in Paris and thought, ‘Merde, Burning Men - I must go’ - ok I don’t know what he really thought but he just grabbed a few things, his passport, went to the airport, booked a flight to Denver, San Fran then Reno, hired a car and arrived at the gates 28 hours later. It was his 3rd time and he’d almost missed coming. What else could I say but ‘Welcome home’. Also the unjaded 17-time burner finally bringing his 2 virgin friends along. The 3 virgins who’d been in New York, had their flight to London cancelled and just decided to come to BM instead.

But by far the best of all... sadly their names are lost to me... the husband and wife owners of the nearest gas station. They were finally coming to the event for the first time ever. Can you imagine - being the small town folk owning the closest gas station in the area and finally coming along to experience this behemoth of an event right on your doorstep that’s no doubt been a huge goldmine for them. They only had 6 hours, arriving at 3am but were super relaxed and so happy to chat to me about what they should do and the event in general! They were pretty sun weathered and craggy - I guess in their late 50’s – but all I could do was welcome them in, get them to ring the shell-case all virgins ring and shout ‘I’m not a fucking virgin anymore’ which they did lustily. My recommendation was to park their car somewhere about H-road and walk on up 6 o’clock until dawn. I wonder what they made of it! Maybe I’ll look them up next year.

At 4am we retreated to the safety of the Recharge Ranch to continue laughing the dawn in. Thank god for the RV so we could sleep late. Thank god also for the window in the RV that allowed Tali and Dan to feed raspberry pancakes to me until my strength was restored. Incidentally when I say sleeping late that is still only 10am. A REALLY good nights sleep at BM is probably 5 hours. Perhaps it is the fact that I draw huge energy from hot and dry conditions or perhaps it’s the exuberant nature of the event as 5 hours feels like enough sleep. I guess it’s also a lot to do with the idea of ‘well - I’ll sleep on the plane or when I’m dead’.

Last year the music was ok but this year I heard some of the best dance music I have ever heard. I put this down to knowing more about where to go, when to go, where to stay and being in extrovert overdrive. Also being with more friends helped make dancing several hours every day even more fun.

We danced at The Deep End daytime dance area twice. Once to our favourite Space Cowboy DJ – Mancub – the best daytime dancing I’ve ever done and only eclipsed as a general dance experience by the following night’s nocturnal activities on top of the bar at the Ashram Galactica (no HBO). The music led us on a journey for the entire afternoon, letting us engage with everyone around. The spirit of the crowd exquisite!

The second time at the Deep End was the most hardcore outdoor, at the mercy of the elements dancing by far. I’d been lucky with the weather this year and last, always being with someone suitably comfy in a tent or RV when a dust storm hit. My luck ended that day at The Deep End. At times we were barely able to see a few feet in front of oneself. But the DJ played on and the party faithful stuck it out. And THAT spirit was wild and unchained. Strong like some tribe of party savages about to feast. The conditions at BM can be extreme and not for the faint-hearted. Beware and be warned! Goggles and mask. When this dust storm cleared we were rewarded with an intense double rainbow. Super beautiful picture attached (not mine – again!)

So there you have it for this part – a very few of the things we got up to before the weekend at BM.

I’ve attached a LOT of very low res images showing some more of the art and some showing some of the things I wrote about in this mail and one of 2 girls showing us their beavers.

I can also let you know that I'm still running a multiple set of equations and analysis programs in various parts of my body, mind and soul in an attempt to gauge just how far the innerverse has expanded as a result of this recent super-ina-nova. For the last several weeks every available psychonaut I have (they’re like astronauts but do to inner space what astronauts do to outer space), has been preparing to go forth and explore these new regions within me. Many of the expeditions have been deliberately delayed to gather strength for what might be quite a lengthy journey. And I’ll admit some of them are just a wee bit daunted by the task – after all whose to say there will not be spiders as big as tigers in these new regions of my mind? If you care to offer a topic of exploration I’ll add it to their workload.

I’ve been joking for some time about being an interdimensional lay-by cartographer but now I realise what I REALLY am is an inner-dimensional cartographer. Watch this space.


As I mentioned life’s experiences have continued unabated since BM – not the least of which involved a magic time in LA with the mermaid Pearl, a surprise acquisition at BM, another unforgettable and equally surprising time in London with the same Pearl, a full contact dance mission to Ibiza, the continued delights of Doomsday, the film I am employed by, a few uncommonly good parties, friendships, Rugby World Cup (Bokke!), house-hunting, succumbing to the evils of the televised cricket, the Masque of the Red Death and Shillington cocktails.

Once more feel free to hit the opt-out clause and avoid the next installment.

Love

Doctor Lobster xxx

That’s my playa name – like a nickname really though it has to stick to you like shit to a blanket, without telling the tale mine is came as a combination of Third Aid, Hot Baths and a Curious Kitten.

Doesn’t it seem super suspicious that one can buy items like Christmas mince pies that have best before dates more than 6 weeks prior to xmas itself!!!
I’ll have a moment of appreciation for the decommodification aspect of BM. Ahh.

With Goose-like Tread Upon the Way I steal

PART 1

Beloved Friends,

I am pretty nervous right now (*). As a fattened goose would be. One who never wondered why on earth he was being fed so much rich and yummy food by some benign keeper. Oh yes my friends – there-in lies my nervousness. I have given little thought (**) as to why so many rich experiences have been made available to me. Instead I have dived in and gorged myself sick on marrow from the bones of life. Now I am certain my soul’s equivalent of the liver is engorged and swollen out of proportion from the wonders and pleasures of which I have availed myself. Certainly to judge by the increased size of my laugh muscles these last few weeks have been a damn good work out in the fun department. My ‘nervousness’ may now come from the notion that perhaps I have been fattened for the kill! That some angel or demon is right now sharpening a scythe in advance of a celestial feast at which some part of me will form a delicacy.

*I’m not really
**I have really – One should enjoy what is made available to one. Regardless of what that is. If it is horror and suffering then one should enjoy that for the karmic cleansing nature of it. If it is pleasure and progress then one should enjoy that as karmic reward for previous benevolent action.

Here’s a pome (well you could hardly call it a poem) that’s been forming in a really odd corner of my mind and is surprisingly bypassing my internal censors and being released into the world...

If the Lord sees fit
To cover me in shit
That’s his wish - I’ll revel in it

If its honey and wine
Upon which I may dine
Even better then - His choice and mine

Yeah every experience is worthwhile for something.

Back to the goose metaphor - I have 2 choices:

wait and see what happens – continuing to revel and gorge myself so when the inevitable happens, at least those buggers will have a fine tasting treat. If I am just to end up as a feast on God’s table then I want to be as good a morsel for him as I can be.

the other is to try to find an escape route. But I think any notion of attempting to waddle off in some direction from some improbable threat is really just the last vestiges of the old ‘catholic-guilt-I’m-not-good-enough-nonsense’. I’m squeezing that out of my belief system. And boy, can I tell you, I’m going to be really happy when that’s all finally gone.

Hmm – somehow that makes sense though it also carries an edge of expectation and THAT is something that ALWAYS needs to be managed. And you better manage yours in relation to this email cos the management of it have carefully ensured that it contains numerous mistakes. On top of that they have deliberately included a multitude of confusing metaphors, similes, mad-cap theory and half-finished strains of thought for which I accept no responsibility.

Anyway I’m going for option 1 - accept my fate as trying to avoid it’s only going to mean I do not enjoy the ride my life sometimes seems to be.

Its taken me 3... 4... Shit 5 or whatever weeks since Burning Man (BM) to write this as life’s experiences have continued unabated since then. This was my 2nd trip to BM and once again it affected me deeply.

I’m also making an unprecedented move and releasing the piece as separate installments. Why?

The initial draft is already WAY too long. So by breaking it down somewhat may mean more of you read it. Though I know even this may be too long for some of you busy folks out there. It’ll also mean I can send a few more pics overall. I suppose it’ll come as 3 parts within a week or 2.

And it also means instead of rattling on about just BM I can digress into other stuff along the way.

Last year (feels like a century ago) I never knew many of you so you will not have received what I wrote last year about my 1st trip to BM so if you like any of this or know nothing AT ALL about BM please feel free to request it as ancillary reading and/or check out www.burningman.com. I also wrote some stuff just before I left so you may request that too!

Nowadays I’m pretty much always a positive person and willing to express that. However a long time ago a friend very close to me shook me by asking me who I was trying to convince by always being so positive about my life’s experiences – other people or myself? I believe a kind word said at the right time can go a long way. But equally a harsh word spoken at the wrong moment can cast a long shadow. That comment induced extra insecurity and doubt into my life. So that, plus the greater impact of this 2nd BM trip made me wonder about the 1st one – did I really have such a good time back then?

The answer is a resounding YES. By going to BM I opened myself up. Its increased my appreciation of EVERYTHING - the world and my place in it. Hence when I RETURNED to BM I was even more able to appreciate just how incredible an event it is. And in turn by being more open there I was able to garner even greater value from the event which is opening me up further. And along with it a great increase in my energy levels and apparent capacity to adore this silly planet we live on.

The 2 major factors influencing and increasing my enjoyment of this year’s event - People and Experience.
When both are combined they result in a healthy increase in Confidence.

I knew a lot more people this year – the Canadians of Slaktoria that I camped with last year and have seen while in the company of Princess Crab of Victoria, Warwick a great friend of 20 years and numerous adventures (an e2-b as it happens – either you know or you will in the next installment, I’m an e4-b2), Katie Clarke (also e2-b!) and Skez (a mere e-b), Brian Spaley (one of those people’s whose surname is clearly part of their 1st name), Angela and Will, Kris, Menkin and Donnie, friends of the inimitable Jayman (recently renamed Cheetah!) whose friendship has deepened incredibly over the year, various ‘Burners’ or acquaintances from Europe and LA, the fresh and lovely folk of our camp, the Recharge Ranch and all of those people’s compatriots. If you never got name-checked here and feel you should – no fear there are many opportunities later in the fact-phase.

Having a strong foundation of people to operate from is a great confidence booster. They introduce you to others and provide you with a friendly base to retreat to when the going gets tough. Its so easy to flitter or bounce around a place flirting, meeting, chatting and being generally ridiculous when you know that at any moment you can just give up that game and return to a group of friends who’ll pull you safely from the wreckage if you’ve been shot down in flames. Furthermore I’ll admit that it can also be more fun to have one’s acts of heroism or creative silliness witnessed by friends who may then write poems of your bravery and spread word of your legend. Ooooo – that’s tantamount to a confession – well I am much better in front of an audience than in a dry rehearsal. Top tip for me – you’ll get the best out of me if you make me feel like I have an audience.

Now I’m hoping that most of you know something about BM but knowing that some of you will not have done your homework here’s the most important stuff to know about BM.

Its in a desert at 4000 feet or whatever. Its boiling hot in the day, freezing at night. Harsh conditions – dry and super dusty. You have to be prepared. You have to be radically self-reliant and bring everything you need by way of food, water and shelter. You also have to take it all away with you afterwards without fail. And people do. There is no commerce. No entertainment is arranged by the organisers. Nothing is bought or sold. Every item from booze, food, through hugs and smiles is given free by the gifter. There is trading in a sense – in that someone gives a gift and you may return one if you like but there is no: if you give me this then I’ll give you that!

All entertainment is provided by the participants. People come and do stuff, create art and offer activities and so on just because they want to. And when you realise that they REALLY want you to come in and enjoy what they have created you can do so with such a free spirit. It makes the exchanges between you and other people so remarkably open. You find yourself simply loving that this event exists and that it all works out. Quite astonishing. And there’s 47000 people there and no they’re not really hippies.

No longer being a virgin was a huge help. I knew what to expect and how to better access the wonders the event offered. The art, the mayhem and knowing that people want to interact and engage. Plus I managed to pace myself over the whole week, not burning out early and focusing energy into the times that one wants to enjoy more. Such as the daytime, when art and people are more visible and can be engaged with easier than at night when its more about dancing and staying with your own gang. Then again, when I did go out at night (er and that was of course, every night), this time it was easier to find that brilliant time because I knew more about where to look. Funny thing... Now that I think about it, I’m not so sure I did pace myself so much as I think I might just have had more energy. Maybe I’m just better at it now. I do get a lot of energy from hot and dry weather.

But here is a titbit from one of the encounters I had

En route home I spotted the Talk to God phone box and figured a chat with the almighty might be in order (see snaps). God sounded like he was on Opium he was so super laid back. Actually he did sound REALLY tired. I guess he doesn’t get a lot of rest – just one day a week. Hmm..
“This is God, how may I help you?”
I answered him with ‘Hi God, does anyone ever call you just to say hi?’
“No – never”
‘Well me neither - sorry – you see I’ve got this really bad case of flu and I thought perhaps you could miracle cure it’
“well – I could of course – but its better if we just leave your body to do it”
‘er.. Ok if you think that’s best’
“yes – that’s best. That’s a really lovely outfit you have on by the way”
‘thanks god, gosh its really cool to know you really are omnipresent and all-knowing’
“yes – is there anything else I can do for you”
‘er... Do you perhaps have a beer.’
“of course – I can hook you up with some of that, I’ll send an angel. Anything else”
‘no that’s fine, great, thanks, nice chatting, bye now’
“bye”

And sure enough a lovely appeared – handed me a beer (can) with a smile, turned and vanished into thin air.

After me a couple went into the phone-booth and I overheard this sound-delight - the girl to the boy after they had picked up the receiver:

‘There - see, I TOLD you he existed!’

Its all that kind of funny stuff that makes this festival so much fun and makes you want to contribute to it creatively in your own way too. Now curiously a pretty similar thing happened to me last year but it was a different phone in a different part of the city and I’m not sure if the God was the same. I’m not one for monogamy oh fuck sorry monotheism – I think either there’s ONE or as every culture seems to have one then there’s several. No big deal – let’s move on. Same result though – beer. 6 pack last year. Both times I never managed to delay the angel for long, they must be immune. And oddly I don’t even like beer much. Next year I’ll try to think of something else to ask for or hell, perhaps I’ll just let sleeping gods lie.

Attached a few snaps just of things and bits and pieces. A few art pieces. A few people doing things. Stuff. More to come so there ya go.

Incidentally the title for this email was inspired by one of my all-time favourite songs. Its from The Pirates of Penzance by Gilbert and Sullivan. “With Cat-like Tread” . Its all about pirates and pretty funny. But its very useful to do silly sexy interpretive dancing to and formed part of my best performance ever – the Pirate/Cowboy/Vampire/Knight impressionistic dance act.

I’m in bed writing this footnote long before I have finished the rest of this mail. And I’m playing that track to check if I still like it as much. And yes I do – its bloody ridiculous, filled with soaring nonsense and has me awriggling in my lovely white bed – there is a hot bath waiting and its taking all my effort not to leap up and dance around the room. ........ Ok I failed – I did leap up and danced around my room, alone, for real. And I’m pretty surprised that I did that. Normally I do that kind of stuff only in front of people – you know when I have an audience and all that. Gosh – this is so much fun really. I do enjoy writing this nonsense – I like the action of it – my fingers clicking away on these cool keys, trying to spend time with each of you. Conveying some peculiarities of the things I think of the universe. Sharing my experiences, trying to draw a laugh and expose an emotion and create a sense of the immediacy of my communication. Trying to write as is I were talking to you. As if we were together. To me this time spent writing is almost like time spent in your company – though I get to do all the talking! Nice. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to do this and to have someone out there read what I have written. So much of my life I have yearned to be creatively expressive and each of you who read this are making that a reality for me. Thank you all for fulfilling my greatest dreams.

Love, light, clear skies and barely expressible but abundant amounts of goodwill and joy.

Doctor Lobster


Serious aside: clearly I am not ALWAYS so effusively ecstatic in my moods but writing this right now has put me into that state. So please know that the last few lines I wrote above were meant with utter earnesty. Thank you for you.

As I’m plotting more of this feel free to request being removed from the list too – no offence will be taken.