INTRO
Lunch Abrams
There was no one like Lunch Abrams!!! Fly on you crazy Diamond We are all grieving you and loving you so much. I’ll see you on the bright side of the moon. Give Lord Huckleberry our love. You know what to say
John Hollis
Sawyer Macek
Kween Raven’s 14-year-old son, Sawyer’s passing is one of the greatest and most unbearable losses. After three years of learning the ropes of grief, she is sharing her story and helping others as she continues to walk the path of a bereaved mother. Read her blog and reach out to Kween Raven.
Site: www.grievingkween.com
kSea Flux
Lukas White
Lawd Ben Jammin, Ben Rattan
Tigre Mashaal-Lively (Jami Lewis Marshall-Lively)
Anastazialouise via IG
Jan Yoder (Spire-Man)
Some real Characters at the Wedding Lord Huckleberry Laughing with Steven Ra$pa Flash Hopkins and Aeion Solar
Joe Mangrum via FB, July 21, 2007
Picnic table, Makers Mark, and the Lord… check check and check. Now the Dust rumpus can begin.
Merritt Grooms via FB, March 11, 2013
IN CLOSING
The Temple
The year is 2001, the third time Lord and I had attended Burningman. We kept hearing about this art piece called the Temple. The Temple had something to do with loss, death, and grieving. Lord waited until we got to the playa to tell me he would die early in life; he inherited a problem-ed heart from both sides of his family, and he has a couple of years left.
Auspicious, Lord was going to die early, and there is this Art piece to go grieve loss and death, so I went. It was morning; there had been whiteouts for two days, and I walked with my sadness wearing the coolest Issey Miyake Jesus robe. I was totally feeling the pain, the loss of Lord, the whiteouts, loss, sadness, and ancient in my Jesus robe. I approached the temple for the first time; it was HUGE! A lone acoustic guitarist was playing inside, and the white dusty wind was whipping around him. It was such a heavenly-perfect moment that I started releasing tears of joy and pain. A being approached me from behind; he was the artist David Best. He told me about the project to honor people who died early in life unexpectedly. There was a big pile of scrap wood, and Inside the temple were three altars; one was for children, another for suicides, and the third for anyone. The idea was to write the story on the wood and put it inside an appropriate altar.
Joe The Builder was camping near us; he had lost his sixteen-year-old son in a car accident that year. Joe asked me to go with him to see the Temple burn; he had flowers from his son’s funeral and wanted to place them in the Temple. As night came upon us, we stayed comfy and cozy as more people arrived, creating a huge circle around the temple. Neon wire was just becoming popular. LED lights may have been invented, but they were not common, and the crowd stood, sat, art car-ed in semidarkness. People got tired of waiting, and some yelled out, “burn that fucker.” The shout was followed by silence, and David Best walked out with a torch. The temple started to fire; at first, people started to whisper the names of loved ones, not sure how to grieve; more names were whispered, said, and then shouted with confusion and anger. No one knew how to react. To the purity of us figuring this shit out, strangers started turning to hug other strangers, crying, unsure, kneeling, afraid. There was so much hugging and crying, and it seemed we were witnessing a true, pure death ritual. Burningman, the carnival, became Burningman, the Temple, a place to grieve; it went from the fun-physical to beyond the skin that evening.
Seven days later, Sept 11th, 2001, 9-11 happened, and thousands of people died unexpectedly.
Many people came to BM for the Temple.
Opal – July 6, 2016, via FB