POP: TACOMA AT BURNING MAN >>>

It’s full moon day â€" large as a potato chip in the sky. Ahhhh, romantic analogies.

It’s also Jaguar Hearts birthday here at Burning Man.

Four freely and exquisitely unclad bodies walk the Esplanade repeating, "I love every aspect of myself. I love every aspect of you," then upon invitation, all commence to leap nude on a trampoline in bliss, applauded in joy by passersby.

I see a yurt, walls of paper, gallons of bright tempera and paint brushes at its base, covered in vibrant images and spiritual to decadent thoughts of passersby. It’s a kiosk of love â€" one that would make Tacoma Art Place proud.

At Burning Man, chocolate covered pomegranates are like cigarettes in prison. Where are you Almond Roca?!

A 20-foot high, illuminated fish swims by swinging its tail lounging revelers inside. It reminds me of the Mad Hat Tea Company's back room, only it’s a giant fish with illuminated scales.

The cowboy at Acqabar imbues our water with peace, abundance. I ask the Giver to write what he'd like to gift to Burning Man on my skin so I would take it with me across the desert. He wrote "Freedom."

Seven nude bodies in 30 feet gauze celebrate as wind swells and careens the fabric into every crevice and muscle like the Barefoot Collective dancers I’ve seen back home in Tacoma â€" minus the nudity.  

There’s a foreskin restoration class for men in a 30-foot tipi (how to reclaim birthright and regrow the skin). Maybe I’ll pay attention and bring the secret back to Tacoma. Maybe not.

Tacoma, you are with me at the Burn?

Last night in the medical tent, I meet a San Francisco-nine-stitches-bike-wreck man who grew up in Lakewood. He was surprised to learn how forward T-town has become with its sexy growth spurts like TAM, Robert Daniel Gallery, Fulcrum, the Mix, the Roberson, and the soon to be McMenamins.

By the way ladies, this morning it took me two hours to detangle my hair from layers of unintended dreads â€" the alkaline dust. Embellish, I need that deep conditioning when I return.

OK, I need to get back to Spreading the 253Love in the dust!

Burning Man is a vortex of synchronicity.