A week ago I was on the playa, amidst a swirl of light, sound, dust, and tutus. Until a week ago, I was a virgin (burner). I am now older, wiser, dustier, and intimately acquainted with what must be one of the most wonderful cultural experiences on the planet. 

This post won't however be another exclamation about the wonder and magic to be had in the desert. When I got into my car two weeks ago I had done my best to remain totally agnostic as to what I would find, and without expectation for what the experience should hold. After all, the epithet "mind blowing" only conveys so much on the umpteenth recital, and the only commonality that people's stories seemed to hold was the utter uniqueness of each person's experience. If I were to offer one piece of advice to virgins out there now, this would be it: be open, be excited. And don't read anything about Burning Man.

This post is instead about the week that has followed.