Voyage of the Maiden

I was walking around the playa when I came across an art installation. Imagine eight 2x4’s planted vertically in the ground in an octagonal pattern, ten or twelve feet across. Like if you laid a huge stop sign on the ground and the posts extended upward from each corner creating a cylinder kind of framework.

Now, imagine that there are holes drilled into the uprights at intervals. Across the center of the cylinder, passing through those holes and knotted on the other side are lengths of rough sisal rope. Many of these ropes bisect the cylinder at different heights and angles.

What I haven't told you is that fed onto and hanging from those ropes on the inside of the cylinder were various clothing garments. Several shirts, pants and dresses.

At the bottom, resembling an eagle's nest was a huge crucible of dry twigs and branches, bundled together to form a significant fuel source that once lit, would flash hard, burning the entire cylinder and all its contents to the ground.

What you're imagining is a work called ‘The Voyage of the Maiden’.

I wandered around it in awe. It was clear that the artist, whoever they were, built this for a number of very personal reasons. Perhaps to honor various times, people and experiences in their life. To recognize the happiness and heartbreak, the joy, the grief, the sorrow and triumph. To acknowledge the journey and to let go.

I was so moved that I asked my campmates if they’d seen it and since they hadn’t, I led a field trip across the playa so that they might experience it for themselves.

The next morning, I peeled myself out of my tent. The morning air was crisp and chilly. I thought I was the only one awake as I strolled the ‘streets’ until I saw someone rushing about in the process of setting up a coffee stand. Coffee sounded really good to me, so I approached her and introduced myself. She wasn’t done with setup yet and I asked if I could help. She handed me a few things to put on one of the tables and she got the coffee brewing.

I sat down with her and we had a chat. If my memory serves, for both of us, this was our first burn. I told her that I came with ‘Camp You Are Here’ and that I put together a figure drawing experience. You can attend a burn in one of two ways, simply as a participant or you can come up with an idea for an art installation or an interactive experience which you set up as a theme camp to enrich the overall experience of burn participants. It’s a great gift to give.

I shared that even though it was my first burn, I couldn’t come empty handed. I felt that I needed to make a contribution. She said she felt the same way and I told her that coffee is a wonderful and much needed gift to give. She began telling me that she also set up an art installation and asked if I’d seen it. “It’s called Voyage of the Maiden”.

Here I was, sitting with the creator of the one piece on the entire playa that I was completely enthralled with. I told her what an impact it had on me and she shared some of her thoughts around it. It was so nice to meet her, share her company and drink coffee in the quiet, early morning hours.

I rambled back to my camp and sat down. None of my campmates were up yet. I thought about the Art Camp I’d set up and how well it was received. I remembered spending hours in the backyard a few weeks before the burn putting ten easels together out of pine one by fours and masonite board and gathering all the art supplies I could. I wondered how it would turn out. Seeing how it was my first burn, I was nervous.

After setting up my tent upon arrival, my campmates went about setting up three ten by ten pop up tents so that we could create a somewhat sheltered space for the circle of easels. We put up a sign with the times we would be doing our figure drawing and a call to action for both artists and volunteer models. We walked around the playa telling as many folks as we could. I couldn’t have imagined we would have the turn out that we did.

Lots of people showed up and it was pretty amazing. On one end of the spectrum, you had folks who were walking around behind the artists, watching them work. When I’d ask them if they wanted to participate, most would reply with something like: Oh, I suck at art, or I’m not very good at this kind of thing. Sometimes I’d drag them over to an easel, put a graphite stick in their hand and tell them to watch me for a moment.

I’d explain that it isn’t about trying to reproduce exactly what you see. That you're just trying to capture the energy of the subject. I’d start them with a centerline and break it up with some quick angular strokes that capture their posture and tell them to take it from there. When I’d circle back around to check in, they’d invariably smile and say, “Hey, I can do this!”

On the flip side you had the models. They were welcome to be dressed or undressed. It was entirely up to them. Most of the models had never modeled before and were completely self conscious. Can I do this, should I do this? I want to do this… and then they discovered that not only could they do this, but it was fun! They got to walk around after time was called and see all the interpretations.

I had great feedback, and I sensed that most people seemed really happy to participate. I felt that it was a success and I glowed with a feeling of fulfillment. I did what I came to do and made the contribution that I wanted to.

Then, I thought about what a wonderful thing the burn community is and how everyone has a gift to share. Whether it is simply your valued, enthusiastic participation, an opportunity to bring art, or an interactive experience that allows you to share what you're passionate about.

I wondered what I could give this amazing person I met. I felt that I needed to recognize her in some way. Part of my art camp had a still life array which didn’t get much play. Among the materials in that display was an old brass nautical lantern which had been in my family since the 1800’s. At some point I was designated its caretaker and I still have it. Before the first figure drawing session, I trained my easel at it and did a graphite rendering of it for practice. It was still up on an easel across from where I sat and I decided that my drawing would have to suffice.

I took it off the easel, rolled it up and walked back to her coffee shop. I told her that I didn’t have much to give her, but I wanted to acknowledge her extraordinary gifts and her willingness to share something so personal. I gave it to her and she seemed to like it.

At the time, I didn’t give my drawing any meaning, but now that I think about the lantern, it is after all.. a source of light. It was engineered to handle one of the most challenging environments on earth, the open sea. You could easily liken the shifting currents, the storms, the whipping wind and the darkest of nights to the trials of life that we all face.

No matter what those conditions are and how difficult they can be, we all have a light inside. If we allow that light to shine, it can take us out of the dark, inform our next move and if we dare to share our passions, light up the lives of others.