Many years ago I learned about the four elements: Air, Fire, Water, and Earth; each one corresponding to a cardinal point on the map, a selection of human emotions and its genders, the seasons of the year, a rainbow of colours and a vast array of gods and goddesses from a multitude of humanity’s faiths. The elements, it would seem, represent all of humanity and the thoughts and realities that each of us can create or experience.

Until now, my only Burning Man experiences were Decompression parties in Toronto. Wildly spectacular, with everyone being encouraged to not only attend but participate in the evening’s goings-ons. When I was invited to go to Kiwiburn, on the North Island of New Zealand, I didn’t really know what to expect save that I knew I would be welcomed with open arms and that I would meet some incredible people over the course of the event’s four days. I hoped that it would be similar to what I knew, but with a healthy dose of nature (and Kiwi ingenuity!) tossed in for good measure.

Arriving at Kiwiburn, the gate was set up so that you were properly greeted and birthed into the world of the Burn. With this year’s theme being “Elementality”, we were asked to choose between one of four gates to pass through to enter into the festival, with the intent that this would be the thing you would try to incorporate into your Kiwiburn experience. Usually, when faced with this type of choice, I would pick Water or Fire. A quintessential Pisces, I tend to gravitate towards all things Watery. I can be moody, dreamy, emotional and creative. I love Fire for its warmth, vibrancy and passion (although I also have a healthy dose of respect for it); I often joke that I am Steam. Yet this time I picked Air, the sign of imagination, creative development and new beginnings. I’m at a rather special time in my life right now, travelling extensively for the first time ever, wandering from place to place with no real intinerary (something that shocks my nearest and dearest, no doubt). I feel as though my life has changed irrevocably after this past year while living in New Zealand, and that things New and Filled With Potential are coming my way. So, Air. I passed through the gate, crawled through a fabric tunnel, and left the default world behind (while proudly ringing a bell and proclaiming “I am not a virgin anymore!”).

Where Burning Man is held on the playa, in the desert of Nevada, Kiwiburn lives on the gently rolling paddock. It is lush and green, with cattle often seen roaming about not too far away — its scenery is classic Kiwiana, with the only thing missing being a flock or two of sheep. The site is fortunate enough to include a freshwater lake, brisk at first but eventually becoming refreshing and cleansing. Best of all, it came complete with a floating pirate ship!

With the festival capped at 500 participants, there was plenty of space to roam, dance and explore between the theme camps. I took great pleasure in discovering what the different camps had to offer. My only regret is that I wasn’t able to see all of the camps in full swing, as I’d twisted my ankle rather badly the day the festival started, and so couldn’t run around as much as I would have liked. The amount of time, effort and preparation that the theme camps took to build their creations was astonishing.

I think that most of all, the things I liked the most were creations that nobody was around to take credit for: a tea party set up in the middle of a field, windmills on top of a burm, heart shaped containers filled with lollipops, a cookie tree, led-filled balloons that looked for all the world like giant bobbing gumdrops.

Another favourite of mine, was the Illuminati theme camp. In addition to a killer dance camp (which included a psytrance dj from Montreal, whose name I cant remember sadly), the Illuminati appeared at various times throughout the festival to perform one of four elemental rituals; I was lucky enough to catch two: water and fire.

Kiwiburn, as a Regional Event, follows the 10 Principles of Burning Man (radical inclusion, gifting, decommodification, radical self-reliance, radical self-expression, communal effort, civic responsibility, leaving no trace, participation, and immediacy), and I really do feel that KB and everyone there strove to manifest all of these things. A decommodified zone, no money was exchanged between participants; instead gifts were freely given. I was pleased to receive a set of handmade fabric poi (which I sadly left behind in the RV I was travelling in), and an anklet with a heart-shaped charm on it (the latter given along with a shot of whiskey!). Everyone shared, and it seemed that everyone had one another’s back (literally, with Sun Spot stations dotted about the paddock with free — and highly needed — sunscreen!)

Of the four elements, Fire is naturally the most beloved of Burning Man and its Regional Burns (of which Kiwiburn is one, now in its seventh year). At Kiwiburn, fireplay was taught and encouraged by Balrog’s Playpen, a collective of fun-loving people eager to spread the joy of lighting things on fire then swinging them about your head on metal chains, staffs, whips and fans. It’s been several years now since I first caught the fire bug, having learned to spin fire poi at home in Toronto, but not having spun fire for over a year and with little interest in doing so now, I was content to sit on the side and photograph those playing about in the darkness. This was definitely Air coming into play, as much time was spent fiddling and exploring the various settings on my camera to produce the results I envisioned. I had an interesting conversation with a Burner from the States, about photography. He had lost all of his snapshots in a transcontinental move many years ago, and since developed the view that its best to keep ones memories in my head. For me, photography isnt so much about capturing memories as it is sharing the things I see, do and experience with those not with me.

Of course, the Main Event was the burning of the Man. This year’s effigy seemed quite large to my virgin eyes (although Ive been told the one in Nevada is many times taller!), and lovingly painted with elemental symbols. Fire, among other things, is the element of creative destruction. Fire emolliates what it touches, consumes it, leaving only ashes behind. Yet from the ashes comes rebirth, like the phoenix, or more temporally, the new growth of a forest after a fire has raged across its floor. I get the feeling that the symbolism behind burning the Man is of a similar vein; I also think that maybe it’s different for each person and am eager to speak with my Burner friends about it in future and get their thoughts on what the Burning means to them.

In addition to burning the effigy, two other structures were set alight. On the second night of the festival a giant Norse Man, constructed by an American named Otto, was burned. It was at once poignant, beautiful and pretty damned impressive considering it was a labour of love. On Sunday night, following the burning of The Man, The Temple was burned. Based on the temple that gets built in Nevada, participants were meant to write farewell messages or prayers to the gods (or whatever higher being one might invest faith in). From what I gathered, not too many people realized this; a high number of those there this weekend were Kiwiburn virgins like myself, so weren’t aware of this intention. Hopefully next year more will scribe their messages, as there is something satisfying watching The Temple burn, seeing flames lick at the place you have left your message, and know that your words have been sent out into the world.

While on the topic of fire, Megs, one of my travelling companions (who I met at Rainbow Serpent only the weekend before), discovered a love of fire fans this weekend. I watched her blossom from uncertainly moving the unlit fans about in daylight, to coyly moving them about like a pro while lit on fire at night! It’s been a really long time since I watched someone discover the intensity of fire play, and it was thrilling to see. It also reminded me that it’s been a while since I learned a new skill or art form, so now Im eager to spread some creative wings of my own as soon as possible!

I met so many lovely people over the weekend, some of whom I suspect will be friends “for keeps”. One of them, a vivacious Aussie named Nicole, brought up the thought that we should have a special term for festival friends. You arrive as strangers, and create intense relationships with people. You can spend the entire weekend sharing food, laughter, dances, emotions and ideas all without knowing your newfound friends’ personal stories, and in some cases, their real names!

The inclusion I felt at Kiwiburn was a beautiful thing. I often struggle with feeling accepted in my day to day life, unfairly comparing myself to those around me. Am I skinny enough, interesting enough, playful enough .. basically, am I good enough to be there? Silly, but true. I’ve gotten better with these issues over the last few years, but at Kiwiburn for perhaps the first time ever, I didnt feel as though I was measuring myself up to the creative people around me. I felt instantly welcome, a part of a special family. Everyone was dear, and it was a sublimely comforting thing.

So, and the end of it all, how do I look back and regard my time on the Paddock? I can’t say it was life changing, but it was life affirming. After so many months of not being around Burners and their type (wildly expressive, openly loving, slightly crazy, and madly creative) it really drove home for me that I need more experiences like this one in my life. As I wrote earlier, I feel as though I’m on the cusp of a whole new chapter in my life (we can call it Kelly 3.0) and I just cant help but feel the values and personalities of Kiwiburn are exactly the sort that I need to be encouraged by and surround myself with on a regular basis.

I’m excited to be on the homeward journey now, and although it’s been a few weeks since I said goodbye to Christchurch it’s only just now that the enormity of what I’m doing is beginning to sink in. It also only just occurred to me today that I have less than three weeks left in New Zealand. After 15 months, the last few weeks have snuck up on me and while I’m eager to be in Thailand, I cant believe I’m saying goodbye to my adopted home so terribly soon.

Written in Taupo and Rotorua, North Island, New Zealand

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