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In my wanderings I occasionally come across things that fascinate me. I haven’t posted any galleries of these things just yet, even though I keep telling myself I am going to do it the next chance I get. Things like refineries. Reflections on glass. The eerie light reflected from windows and chrome surfaces and the strange patterns they make.

And Ice.

I have shot assorted surfaces layered with ice. One of my favorites was when I came across a plastic tub that had leaves floating on the surface. It had frozen over and there were tiny crystalline bubbles shot through the assortment of colored leaves. I stood it up in the sun and took a series of macro shots of different portions.

Another was a pipe that had frozen and the water forced its way out of the end where it hung down like an art nouveau tongue.

I have actually tried to create things like this by slicing vegetables and lying them in bowls of tubs, leaving them out on chilly nights. None of the resulting items have remotely compared to the beauty in found frozen objects.

Recently, it has been extremely cold and I knew it was only a matter of time before I found something interesting.

I was on my way to an appointment yesterday when I realized I had at least an hour to kill. I stopped near the American River Confluence outside of Auburn and went for a walk along the south side of the canyon. I knew it was likely I would run across some ice around one of the small creeks that run down to the river.

It came in the form of frozen over mud puddles. There were dozens of them. At first I captured each one, but there were so many that I eventually started skipping the ones that were interesting enough. I picked my favorite twenty images and posted them to a new gallery. Appropriately enough, I posted them in the Ephemeral directory, my latest addition, which will feature things lasting only one day.

See them here.

2005 was my second burn. After the spur of the moment trip the year before I felt completely prepared. From the moment I left the playa in 2004 I knew I would return and had been planning pretty much from the moment I got home. I also started considering other things I could do.

I signed up to volunteer to work for the Black Rock Gazette at the 2004 Decompression event. I looked forward to contributing to the official Burning Man newspaper. Unfortunately, at our first staff meeting, which took place at the BMORG (Burning Man Organization) headquarters in the early months of 2005, we were fired. Having driven over 100 miles to attend I was pretty miffed that they hadn’t at least announced this possibility. Others at the meeting had flown in from around the country. I can only imagine how they felt.

From my understaning there were a number of issues involved. Rumors circulated that the BMORG was unhappy with the critical nature of some of the stories from the prior year’s paper and that other events they felt were important were not covered at all. As a newcomer seemed to me like the BMORG wanted to impose a form of censorship. Understandably, the editorial staff wanted to have independent control. As I sat there it was like watching your mom and dad fight at the dinner table. There was nothing I could say.

There was also talk of how much out of pocket the BMORG was with publishing the paper. Since then, the BMORG also discontinued the Burning Man Journal (an annual brochure bent toward propaganda last published in 2007) so trimming fat like some kind of tight fisted money grubbing miser comes as no surprise.

With no amicable solution the BMORG cut the cord and the Gazette has become another facet of Burning Man lore.

The ordeal was my first encounter with the BMORG and I have been continually surprised by the manner in which they conduct their business and treat many of their volunteers. It is a contributing factor in my decision to stop attended the event for the indeterminable future.

To be fair the BMORG is a corporation. You really can’t hold any one individual responsible.

There was a time when others told me they had stopped attending the event where I was somewhat dismayed and lacked the understanding why anyone would want to stay away. I no longer feel that way.

Thankfully, the beauty of Burning Man is held by its devotees and not the organization. I will miss the people, the art and strangely, the environment.

What transpired in 2005—by the former staff of the Gazette—was the creation of a brand new independent newspaper, called the Black Rock Beacon. I joined up and not only contributed, but camped with them in the Nine O’clock Plaza. I enjoyed it, but it was a lot of work. The contributions I have made to the paper since have all been off the playa.

I showed up on the playa the Friday before the event began on August 26th, hence the many pictures of art projects during the construction phase.

It was an entirely new experience camping with an organized themecamp. The politics involved and being in such close quarters with so many different individuals. While many of the members were considerate and carried more than their weight, others seemed not to notice.

Besides joining the paper, I also decided to build two art projects. An octagonal shaped house to live in and a wooden man I ended up calling Ansi. It was during the building of the house that I met a local group of burners from Auburn. I spent many hours at their camp, Burntown. The following year I would end up camping with them.

I had a blast at Burning Man in 2005. It was a new experience and I met many wonderful people I have been friends with since. I took a much different path than I had in 2004 and I felt richer for it. And working with the newspaper was a positively enlightening experience.

I could go on for thousands of words explaining other details from that year. Perhaps the 365 images I added to my gallery last night can convey that better than any words I might use here.

See the gallery here.