Getting Mail @ Burning Man

When mailing to the playa please address your playa-bound mail as completely as possible in this format to increase the odds of your mail being received:

CAMPER’S PLAYA NAME or REAL NAME …or better, both.

CAMP NAME (and any helpful descriptions of street facade, tents, or large features that might be at this location to help the postie find the addressee)
CAMP ADDRESS: as close as you can get (example: 9:35 and Hummer) &/or nearest cross-street, and even Man-side or mountain-side (if you know)
C/O BRCPO
Burning Man
Gerlach, NV 89412

PLEASE be sure to put a return address on all incoming mail. Should we not find the addressee we will return all undelivered mail to sender.

Buis. Side of Burning Man

So, I was posting the new page Decompression Digest today when I realized that just recently I remember reading an article in The Examiner how Burning Man, LLC sued someone for using the word “decompression” in their advertising. I always hear haw fervently BMorg protected their name, been warned a few times be people who were excessively nervous, but never really saw much enforcement before.

Larry Harvey and Marian Goodell - The Business Side of Burning ManThis writer definitely believes in protecting the brand and the principles of an organization like this, which is why following Burning Man, LLC letter about coyright that went out to the general community I wrote the BM legal office describing both web sites managed by StudioSK (me) because of the use of the name “burner” in both titles (LVBurners.Com and GayBurners.Com). Each site contains a disclaimer about how this site is not a product of Burning Man, LLC or has any affiliation.

I find when writing anything on these site, legal words roll through my head, even before the idea of protecting the brand; which is a very close second.

It is what it is. I am writing this because when I started the previously mentioned page my mind reflected back to that article and how many times I have to carefully pluck my words to honor the unwritten contract I have with Burning Man. (pause) Wait, I guess I signed an agreement last time I went to Burning Man.

Wait, when I registered on ePlaya.

Er, uhm, my paperwork for my 2010 art project for Burning Man, LLC.

Basically, it’s everywhere. They are a corporation and at the same time is promoting the principle of Radical Self-Expression. If I were to ever become a Regional the contract would become official and binding on a new level, but I still honor all that.

This article is not a smooch the the legal ass of Burning Man, LLC and it’s registered Trademarks (sorry Dan), but something I felt like writing because of the wheels turning in my head with each of these creations. I have to make sure I do not cross the line. Anyone does, when it comes to playing with other peoples business.

Believe it or not, and only a few people know this, I actually was told by Marian Goodell in a very pleasant conversation that one of my previous posts really came close or stood on top of that line. Provocative was not a word I would use on that article from last year, but Marian said is was not as benign as I felt it was; especially since it dealt with a sensitive issue in the BM world.

The plus side is, some people at BMorg got to know me a little. The drawback… I can’t think of one. Hopefully the drawback won’t be people at BMorg getting to know me better because I would jump into that pool in a heart beat.

Bottom line is that myself and anyone posting on my sites, or anyone on their endeavors, have to be careful about the things we are representing. It leads us to respecting the bigger picture as well. So when I go into a long circle to get to a point sometimes with carefully worded phrases please understand.   🙂

Read more on the Business Side of Burning Man on LaughingSquid.Com

ButchPirate On A Mission ’09


It was my virgin year as well in ’09, but I was on a mission. Not to get laid, not to get wasted till I puked my guts out and slept for three days, and definitely not to go on any sort of drug induced mind trip. Not at all. I was hesitant about even going in the first place and kept thinking, maybe next year I’ll go instead. Something, somewhere, in the inner ear canal to my subconscious mind, I was told I needed to go. No explanation, no reason, not at this time. There was a purpose, but I need not to know at that point. I bought my ticket.

When it arrived, I got my Atomic Fireball and was told the story behind them being in the envelope. I stared at the ticket for days and kept asking myself, why do I NEED to go? I understand needing to go to the doctor, the dentist, the auto shop, the grocery store, work, home….but Burning Man? Sure I had gone to a number of regional events at that point and wanted to go to Burning Man, but that question kept coming up. Why do I NEED to go?

Fast forward to mid February ’09. I was at Disneyland for my birthday weekend with some other friends who were also celebrating their birthdays too. My buddy Glynn met me at the park on Saturday with a biggo butch brutha hug, then looked me in the eyes with sorrow and concern. “Kasey isn’t doing so good”. Glynn told me about the procedures she went through, and they found out that Kasey was in stage 4 of stomach cancer. My heart sank. That night in the hotel room, I quietly asked if this is what I needed to go to Burning Man for? No reply. I didn’t make sense. When I used to tell Kasey about Burning Man, she was just not interested. It wasn’t her thing. I still didn’t get it.

Glynn and another friend Margo had kept me updated on Kasey. She was in Sacramento and I’m in Las Vegas, so I couldn’t just go see her whenever. Texts and phone calls two or three times a day. I was becoming deeply saddened over all of this because, well, Kasey and I had gotten into an argument a while back and I quit talking to her. I was angry at the situation and because I didn’t get my way, I just stopped talking to her. My pride got in the way of our friendship.

A month later, I got the phone call from Glynn. That one that no one wants to get. Even if Glynn had left a message, I still would have had to call back and hear those two words “Kasey’s gone” on the other end of the phone.

Weeks later, I traveled to LA for one of Kasey’s memorial services. She loved pink, and we all wore pink somewhere on us that entire weekend. She also loved glitter and we glittered each other all weekend as well. Pink and glittery anything. That Saturday night we were all in Margo’s backyard making S’mores and remembering Kasey, I looked up and saw the moon. I had to get everyone together to see this. We all stood there, holding each other and crying. This is what we saw.

Amazing isn’t it? Kasey was smiling at us. We could feel her there with us.

Once again, I was left with the question of why do I NEED to go to Burning Man. Then it was all made very clear to me. I had to do something to let her know how sorry I was for being an asshole. My lesson was learned. I got it.  (While Kasey was in the hospital, I couldn’t talk to her on the phone. I sent Glynn and Margo messages to let Kasey know that I was sorry for what I did and even though they gave her the messages, I was told that she just smiled.)

My mission was very clear to me, and after much thought I decided what I was going to do. I made a pink mailbox, with pictures of Kasey and little pink hearts all over it, gave all of Kasey’s friends and family our address at Burning Man and told them to write Kasey a letter and I will put it in her mailbox. On Saturday at Burning Man, I will dress up like Hermes and deliver Kasey’s mailbox with all the letters in them to the Temple. That was my plan. THAT was my mission.

It didn’t take me long to make the mailbox and I had arranged for Margo to send Boots (a pink sock monkey that travels around the country in honor of Kasey) to me at Burning Man.


That Saturday afternoon at Burning Man, Toaster, Malicious, Cameron and myself (with Boots in tow of course) hopped on The Neighbors Dog and drove out to the Temple with Kasey’s mailbox.


I didn’t get a chance to dress up like Hermes, but I guess it was the thought that counted. Anyways, we drove out to the Temple and as we got there and started walking up to the Temple, a man on a bike from The Post Office came up to us. “Kasey Kirby?” We all turned around with the mailbox in my arms to acknowledge him. He told us that he was at our village and they told him that we were on our way to deliver the mailbox. My heart sank. This guy rode his bike from 7:00 and Esplanade to the Temple to deliver a letter to Kasey! We all looked amazed that someone did this, not knowing anything of this journey. I asked him to put it in the mailbox and we thanked him as he went on his way. As we all walked inside the Temple, I was taken back by everything I saw and felt. I couldn’t even begin to describe how I felt other than sorrow. We went upstairs and found a spot for Kasey’s mailbox. Toaster placed it in the Temple for me because, well, I’m short. 🙂


At the Temple burn, I said my good bye’s to Kasey, told her again how sorry I was. I wasn’t asking for any kind of forgiveness, I just wanted her to know that I was sorry for everything. Since then, when I think of her and start to cry, I get this feeling of….it’s ok….over me. I still carry this burden with me every day that I didn’t talk to her and say good bye, and I will for the rest of my life….until we meet again.

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