Burning Man, Tickets and Keeping Bitterness at Bay

Fairness is a loaded concept. In the context of an event that is created from scratch by a committed battalion of artists, visionaries, fundraisers and participants, considering the investment of time and energy that veteran Burners have put in, often over the course of many years, to the creation of the Burning Man phenomenon is crucial. And it’s true—a lottery doesn’t care about that. For many of us, heading out to the dusty desert is going home, and leaving that to apparent chance is a weighty thing. But, changes are upon us, lottery or not.

For all that Burners are often radical and open-minded, when it comes to change, they are pretty much the same as everybody else. When the event sold out for the first time in its history last year, there was a generous amount of talk about the death of the event, that 2011 would be the last year it happened, it was forever changed, etc, etc. There were a lot of people and camps that were shocked to find themselves without the tickets they needed for projects that they’d already sunk money into.

The old way of waiting until the last minute to get tickets sorted was over. Ticket prices climbed and climbed as sales knocked through the tiered price scale. When the event sold out, immediately the cry went up that people didn’t have tickets they desperately needed. And this revealed, I think, that lots would have to change in the future. Among other things, budgets for essential tickets needed to be allocated, and enlarged, before thousands of dollars were spent on projects.

And scalpers. For years, people have been saying how “commercialized” Burning Man has been becoming—and most of these people have never been, and really have no idea what they are talking about. Commercializing Burning Man is a tough notion, what with the near-complete absence of commerce in the place. There are no official sponsors, no advertisements. There is increasing demand from first-timers, however. A lot of these are would-be tourists, adventurous frat-boys and festival enthusiasts who want to head out to the desert on a lark.

Demand is now greater than supply. There is a limit on how many people can be on-site for Burning Man each year; the calls for more tickets to be released smacks of ignorance regarding the delicate desert environment that sustains the festival. Contrast the leave-no-trace ethos of Burning Man with the filth, destruction and thousands of abandoned tents after each Glastonbury Festival—Burning Man needs to be about leaving a small footprint, otherwise the event will lose its permit. So there’s a cap on total numbers of attendees.

And the question has now become: How can Burning Man tickets be distributed to the community that makes the event happen, and how can those tickets be kept out of the hands of scalpers?

The truth is, for Burning Man, more than for any other festival, who goes really does matter. For all of the first-timers, there needs to be a weighty balance of patient veteran Burners who make sure that the virgins learn how things work; that those baby Burners are respectful of the environment, and don’t bring loads of trash to throw on burn piles. Veteran Burners know what it takes to build a camp, assemble an art installation, organize a clean-up crew and look out for each other’s safety in an extreme environment. They set the tone of the community, among all of those having their first transformative excursion.

In this game of chance, the lottery has probably gone some way to keep tickets out of the hands of scalpers, who really would make Burning Man only a game for the wealthy. The first-come, first-served method doesn’t work for an event that has proved it will sell out—scalpers, whose business revolves around getting tickets faster and in greater quantities than any average attendee of the event, will win that game every time. And that would destroy the event. Truly.

Because, you know what? For all that a lottery doesn’t care about your years of investment in the event, a scalper sure as hell doesn’t, and scalpers won’t care for a price many times higher than the face value of the ticket. And, the price of scalped tickets aggressively selects for a demographic that is less concerned with living light on the land; Burning Man becomes a luxury safari in this scenario.

If Burning Man attendance is determined solely by the market (read: scalpers), it will be an ecological nightmare. This is to say nothing of the content of the community itself; as a friend noted, “I fear this year might end up being a lot of people in RVs waiting around all week for the event to show up.” We really need for the people that make the event to be there.

So, I propose a few solutions. The first, and perhaps least palatable, is that those with extra tickets should prioritize veteran Burners over first-timers. Period. While I have lots of friends I would love to have out there with me in the Black Rock Desert, I wouldn’t want to have them out there for a big, touristey shitshow. I’ve heard people say that, in the past few years, there seems to be more and more first-timers and fewer veterans. Quite frankly, we need the veterans. We need people who prioritize the hard-won glories of building a city in the desert over the comforts of an RV. We need the crazy luminaries who throw thousands of their own dollars into constructing monumental art in which we are all immersed. These same people keep the fire burning year round, holding regional events and installing art in new homes after their desert glory. They positively change the world around them by being steadfast, and they have earned priority in this ticket scrum.

Secondly, everyone needs to commit to linking the right people to the right resources. If you don’t have spare tickets, your job isn’t over. Right now, the likeliest scenario is that extra tickets are around you, as are people who need them. Keep your ear to the ground, and stay true to keeping tickets in the community. Out of tens of thousands of tickets sold this week, I have only seen about one hundred listed opportunistically on StubHub. While those few are disheartening, they are few. The rest of the allocated tickets are likely in the hands of family and friends, who are also likely faced with some tough choices about who gets to go. While this may be hard or seem unfair, it’s probably better that people with an actual interest in the event are tasked with helping get people through the gate.

Thirdly, if you don’t have a ticket this week, don’t give up. Register for Burning Man’s secondary sale system (STEP), and try to get a ticket in the March sale. Don’t give into pessimism—the dust has not yet settled, and however disappointing and suspenseful this process has been, bear in mind that it’s not over.

Finally, we need to reassess how we approach big projects and planning—and entitlement. Let’s not spend our time crying about chickens we counted before they hatched. Instead, let’s figure out how to get manpower to projects that need it, and let those with tickets be mightily invigorated to do something great for Black Rock City. Because if you have a ticket right now, you now have the responsibility to do something awesome and contribute. Big time. Starting now. Build something. Collaborate with projects that are underway. Think about your investment in the community. Rethink how much of your budget is about your own comfort, and reallocate resources to making this city spring up in all its fantastic glory. This event literally is only what we make it.

Faux Neverland

Getting ready to Peter Pan around the wilds of San Francisco.

Sh!tshow: Or, a Poop Helmet Party

Some time ago, I promised to follow up my blog post on tricks for keeping skin happy despite the rigors of performance makeup with a post on hair. As ever, I am late with this, but I hope that a flamboyant title and photos of me covered in what appears to be goose poop will make up for the delay.

For years, my hair has been a key identifying feature—when there’s more than one Kim around, I’m usually the redheaded one. It may be of some surprise that my natural hair color is not in fact red, but rather blonde.

I grew up with inspiring redheads like Red Fraggle, Ariel, Anne of Green Gables and Pippi Longstocking. My first foray into the ginger realm was at the age of twelve, when I used a temporary red coloring to great comic effect. It wasn’t until much later, when I was out just out of high school, that I revisited red hair, and that time it went much better. Thus began a longstanding relationship with Feria, which I broke off over three years ago in favor of henna, which is the topic of this post. (For those who have met my husband: our natural coloring is nearly identical, which has of course led to more than one joke about our potential relation to each other. But I digress.)

Henna is a plant—lawsonia inermis—which has been used for thousands of years to color skin, hair and nails. It works by releasing an organic compound, lawsone, which is able to bind to keratin, a protein present in hair, skin and nails. Henna has gotten an undeserved bad rep, thanks mostly to the impatience of the 20th Century, but prior to that it had a long and illustrious history as a beauty aid and auspicious ornamentation for special occasions.

Henna is not to be taken lightly, however. The only method of henna coloring I’d recommend is using either pure henna powder or Lush’s wonderful henna bars. Anything else, and especially anything that comes in a box marketed as “natural” hair coloring, I’d avoid like the plague. Most of the horror stories about henna turning hair green or frying hair come from the admixture of chemicals, especially metallic salts, which are meant to reduce the time it takes for henna color to develop on the hair. (In some of these boxed “herbal” hair colorants, there may be little to no henna at all.) When using pure henna, be prepared to allow several hours for the lawsone to saturate the hair; anything that promises to do the same job in less time is using chemical trickery which can produce very mysterious results should you decide to change hair color down the road. (It is chemical reactions between the hidden nasties in these “natural” colorants and other products like peroxide which has lead so many stylists to be negative about the use of henna.)

The single best reference I’d recommend to anyone contemplating the use of henna is Catherine Cartwright-Jones’s Henna for Hair, which is available as a free ebook from her website of the same name. Cartwright-Jones has devoted herself to the research of henna’s history and use, and her reference is an excellent guide to those curious about using this ancient method of beautification. The Wikipedia entry on henna is also a good place to start—in fact, the section detailing henna’s history as a hair dye features a photo of the very henna bar I use on my own hair.

Henna is for the dedicated. I started researching henna for hair after several years of using synthetic dyes. I did lots of testing on samples of my hair to see how the color looked over the synthetic dyes, and I also tested re-coloring over hennaed samples to be sure that I wouldn’t have any surprise chemical reactions should I decide to change my color down the road.

I would not recommend henna to anyone who changes her hair color frequently; however, if you are interested in a lovely, stable, conditioning red color without the use of burning synthetic dyes, it is a fantastic choice. With henna, my hair has never had the instability of color that I battled with synthetic dyes, and the dryness and breakage I used to experience is a fading memory. My long hair has more shine and life in it now than it ever did before.

…

Okay. Onto the poopy stuff.

I use Lush’s Caca Rouge bar to get my hair as red as can be. Lush’s bars have some advantages over powdered henna, in my opinion: they are pure henna powder, with fragrant spices, bound together with cocoa butter. This makes them wonderfully conditioning, and the scent is more akin to a spice cabinet than the usual freshly cut hay aroma of henna alone. Also, Lush’s bars (which look like giant blocks of chocolate) have lines that allow the savvy user to chop off just the right amount, or come up with recipes for colors by incorporating bits of various shades. (There’s also a Caca Brun, Caca Marron, and Caca Noir, which are more brunette, chestnut and black-blue, respectively. These mixtures contain coffee or indigo to balance the coppery red of the henna and produce different hues.)

Aside from the henna block, there’s some other equipment required. A metal bowl that can double as a bain marie is handy. A grater is good for taking that brick of henna down into a powdery form. Rubber gloves will keep the henna from coloring hands while grating and applying it. A pick or sectioning comb is good for parting the hair as henna is dolloped onto roots. I also use two black hand towels, plastic wrap, and duct tape—we’ll get to that later.

The first thing I do is get all my equipment lined up. Once all the henna is on, I want to be able to grab everything quickly and easily, or have it prepared for my lovely assistant. (I highly recommend having one of these handy as well—my husband is usually drafted for duty.) Also, do any damage control necessary before starting. Henna doesn’t stain most surfaces as fast as synthetic dyes, but it does make a mess, especially on fabrics. Henna’s lawsone pigment doesn’t turn things orange as much as one might expect, but the leafy greens do come out on towels, sheets and fabric shower curtains, making tenacious stains. I have a special pillow that’s reserved for henna nights, and I also put dark sheets on the bed just in case. While I’m getting my equipment ready, I also safety pin one of my black hand towels around my pillow.

If this talk of pillows and bed linens has raised an eyebrow, let me explain—I’m going to sleep in the henna. In order to get my deep red color, I leave the henna on for at least eight hours. Like I said, this is hair color for the hardcore.

Next, I put the kettle on. I boil a lot of water, and I make a cup of tea. Then, I get my gloves on and grate that bar of henna down to nothing. I recommend watching TED talks while doing this; it takes a while, and is a bit of a workout.

When it’s all done, I have a bowl of fragrant green powder. This bowl goes on top of a pot with about an inch of hot water, which I then simmer to gently heat the henna in the bowl. To this, I gradually add enough of my (now slightly cooled) hot water to form a paste—and I have to be careful. All of the liquid I add to the mixture will eventually be on my head, and it can drip throughout the night. Since the Lush henna bars are full of cocoa butter, the warm water and gentle heating will melt the solid fats in the powder, so less water is necessary than one might initially expect. I keep adding water and stirring until I have a thick paste, something like a cake batter or thick yogurt.

I should emphasize that this is really the tricky part. Boiling water (or boiling the paste) brings out brassy tones in the henna, so it’s important to be gentle and not overcook it. Also, getting the consistency right is crucial for all that comes after—too thick and there’s less henna to go around and poor coverage, too thin and the henna is tricky to put on and prone to running. However, this is also one of my favorite bits, because I feel like a witch, stirring my cauldron of fragrant herbal magic. Y'know... poopy magic, but magic nonetheless.

While waiting for the henna to reach a less torturous temperature for my scalp, I divide my hair into two sections—one from ear to ear over the crown, and the other gathered into a ponytail at the back. Henna paste doesn’t slide down the hair shaft the way that runnier synthetic dyes do, so I have to be more attentive to the distribution along the roots. As the henna heats, the paste gradually releases the lawsone pigment, and the color changes from mostly green to more of a brownish red. (This takes 20 minutes or so.) Once it’s a good consistency and reddish, I turn the heat off and let the henna cool a bit before I move the show to the bathroom.

I start with the top section of the hair, beginning at my usual part and working in rows down toward one ear. At each exposed section of root, I dollop henna to either side of the part, and then use my pick to flip the newly poopy hair out of the way, smooshing it flat against the head as I go. I take the hair a little at a time, and try to be thorough, making sure there’s good coverage and that the line between the crown and back sections is also covered. Once I’ve gotten all the way down to one ear, I go back up to the original part, flip the poopy hair over and repeat the process on the other side. Once the whole front of the head is done from the roots, I pile the hair up on top and double check my hairline, making sure that the areas around the forehead and ears look sensible and don’t have any big splotches waiting to happen.

I should mention here that this is a messy process, and there is a risk of dyeing skin if care isn’t taken. However, I haven’t found that henna takes to my skin quickly enough to warrant smearing Vaseline (or similar) around my hairline. Some would say this is risky--do as I do only at your own risk. With mixtures containing indigo, a protective barrier seems to be more important. If in doubt, definitely apply a layer of heavy protective goop to prevent coloring outside the lines, and clean up any plops of henna as quickly as possible.

Once I’ve reached the back section, I call my lovely assistant in from his Xbox. It’s also possible to do this alone, but with eyes mounted on the front of the head, it’s often easier to have a helping hand or two. Applying henna to the back is much the same as the top—starting at the part between the crown and the back ponytailed section, apply the henna, flip the hair up, repeat. Once the whole back section is done, hairline checked, I flip my head upside down and work the remaining henna paste through the length of my hair with my hands. Once the length is saturated with henna, I wind it into a poopy coil on top of my head and pop a hair elastic over it to keep it from shifting around. This is a very, very poopy process. By the end, I have a complete poop helmet. It smells great, though.

Now, I get ready for bed. I have my lovely assistant grab the plastic wrap, and we wind it around the poop helmet to contain any drips. (I prefer to keep the wrap tucked under my ears, which seems to seal tighter and prevents leaks from dribbling directly into my ears.) Then, I use the other black towel to construct a classic post-shower wrap, with a twist—this one gets duct taped in place. Starting with the back, where the longest bit of towel drapes down, my lovely assistant helps me tape around the base of this flattering headgear, making sure it’s snug but not overly tight.

Foxy!

Fully glamorous, it is now time to clean off any wayward henna before accidental tattoos become set. Then, I go to bed as quickly as possible--as the henna sits on my head, gravity starts to pull the excess liquid down, so getting horizontal prevents the drips from escaping from my protective headgear.

…

Rinsing henna out is an art in itself. The plant matter is like sawdust; in the Lush bars, there’s also cocoa butter to rinse, which requires warm water and patience. My best method for this bit is to run a shallow, warm bath, which I allow myself to enjoy for a moment before dunking my poop helmet in to dissolve. This gets the bulk of it out of my hair. I then drain this mightily green bath (seriously, it looks like Swamp Thing hit it) and then work a generous amount of conditioner through my hair, easing out the little leafy bits. Then, a quick shower with shampoo and conditioner gets everything back to normal. And then I scrub the bathtub.

The color one gets with henna only grows richer over time. With successive application, the color deepens, and even on very dark hair it can add a breathtaking glow that it at its peak in sunshine. There’s also something fabulously particular about how henna looks on any individual’s hair—the tone of your natural highlights combines in a unique way with the lawsone stain, so results vary. The natural red undertones in my hair, which made it a golden blonde in my youth, now layer with the red of the henna to create a deep, natural red that withstands the sun’s rays, chlorine in swimming pools and repeated shampooing. No synthetic dye I ever used could match it.

While this process may seem a bit over the top, in reality the “active time” is about the same as dyeing my hair with a synthetic boxed dye—I sleep through the long part. (As is traditional—often, when North African women do their henna, they indulge themselves in a women’s day full of bathing and napping.)

For all of this henna magic, I have to thank my gorgeous friend Natalia for being the brave pioneer amongst my pals. Without her experimentation with the best ways of wrangling the stuff, I would have stained a lot of things and might have missed out on years of witchery and gorgeous hair. And of course, I owe many thanks to Catherine Cartwright-Jones for resurrecting henna’s history and repairing its reputation. These days, my red hair puts me in solidarity with a fine line of fabulous women, from Fatima to the Pre-Raphaelite beauties and Lucille Ball, and I think that’s worth the effort.

Hummingbird Friends

If you follow me on Twitter or Facebook, then you probably already know that I've been making friends with a hummingbird on my back deck over the last few months. For those of you that don't, here's the backstory...

James and I moved into a lovely place, which has a back deck that gets a surprising amount of sunshine for a space between buildings. In San Francisco, things run a little chilly, but for the plants that like that sort of thing there is a sort of eternal springtime. James described San Francisco's weather as a British summer every day, and I think that's pretty apt; at 4pm on the nose, things usually start to noticeably chill as the wind comes in off of the Pacific Ocean, blowing from west to east as the sun begins to dip. Tourists in shorts begin to ask about "I <3 SF" sweatshirts and Irish coffees, and locals pull cardigans out of messenger bags as if choreographed.

Consequently, it is not necessarily easy to grow a garden on my deck. While I have a tendency to plant tenacious vines that can climb little bamboo trellises from any windowsill, my little seedings had a rough time through this summer. Happily, three little morning glory plants managed to make it, even after a perilous run-in with some mold after their seed packet got damp. Two of them, despite feeble growth, even flowered.

Such is the tenacity of the morning glory.

It turns out, these pale blossoms caught the eye of a young hummingbird. To be honest, I think that more than one came by, as they are constantly surfing for new terrain with nectar-bearing flowers in bloom. At the time, though, these few flowers were only enough to attract some curiosity.

One bird kept coming by. Like clockwork. I would be sitting, writing, and a quick little figure would zip up and peek into the lattice work around the deck. It was like magic. My little visitor would sometimes fly in, see if anything was going on, and occasionally look through the window to see what I was up to.

So, basically, I bought this little imp a candy machine. I decided the hummingbirds were trying to make friends, and that the moment might pass. I found a beautiful little glass ornament--which could almost be nestled into a Christmas tree and not look wrong--and hung it up on the lattice. I was worried it was too hidden, that they wouldn't want to come into a semi-enclosed area to drink, but James suggested I just put it out there and see what happened.

Thus, I got to know Vic. I think Vic kind of got stuck with the deck as his territory because he was a young male, and the deck is pretty crap territory for an older bird with some authority. It took me a while to figure out that he was, in fact, male, since the young Anna's hummingbirds all sort of look like their moms. When grown, the males have these incredible iridescent feathers that radiate out from their beaks to their foreheads and throats. The feathers are actually covered in little cells that reflect light only from certain angles, so their color flashes out of nowhere when they change the angle of their heads. When these feathers are grown in, they look awesome.

Vic looked like his mom with 5 o'clock shadow. But only from one side. From the other side, he looked just girly. So I nicknamed him Victor Victoria. (He really was the confuser; it took me a while, and some video footage, before I realized that the adolescent male and adult female I thought were visiting were in fact the same bird.)

One of the fascinating things about Anna's hummingbird is that they have a song, and they can play it with their voices and tails. Their little throats are not big enough to make a very loud call, so they can also use their tail feathers to emit a noise in the same tone. They do this when they perform these incredible daredevil dives to tell others to piss off. Hummingbirds, it turns out, are like super-caffeinated fighter pilots. They are very territorial (even the males toward females, and vice versa) and spend a lot of their day launching themselves at high speed toward intruders. Even potential mates get treated to a version of this; it seems that the males eventually shift their aggressive ousters into a courtship dance, and romance ensues.

So, day by day, I get treated to all of these little dramas. Vic sits and sings, and occasionally his girlfriend sneaks in, steals his sugar-water, and they perform some complex aerial maneuvers. I see them do all kinds of interesting things, too. Like, they check out my seedlings in the pots on the railing. I replanted my garden, in the odd autumnal warmth that is peculiar to San Francisco, and anytime I change anything--or meddle, more likely--my efforts are examined by my little green bird friends. They've found a break in the lattice big enough to use as a doorway or perch, from which they can ambush one another. Just this morning, Vic's girlfriend was brave enough to go inside the narrow space between the sheets of lattice above the deck rail, where she snuck a drink from the hidden space at the back of the feeder.

It is kind of a big responsibility to feed little birds, especially in the cold. Anna's hummingbirds live in cloud forests, which sounds so dreamy; they are adapted to the cooler climes, and eat bugs and tree sap to keep their fast metabolisms going in low temperatures. Costa Rica is the hummingbird epicenter, it seems, and we are far from that tropical climate here. Anna's hummingbird stays around here year round, and they start nesting late in the year. So, my little feeder gets cleaned thoroughly, refilled and immediately replaced every few days. When one of them dropped a feather for me, the tip was a silky iridescent green and the base was fluffy down; a furry undercoat is essential when you're three inches long and living out in the rain.

Right now, Vic's little territorial games are a little more loaded, since my little fairy garden seems to be rapidly transforming into a love-nest. I have to be considerate and disrupt that as little as possible, and so I remain consistent, tending the garden and being around just enough that the sugar always flows and the flowers grow happily. There are no cats to haunt my deck, the wind is not so brisk, and so I feel glad to have taken a little patch of barren built-up space and rendered it part of an ecosystem once more. These sassy, magical little birds, who are just as curious about me and remarkably unafraid of my relatively lumbering pace, have inspired me to build a sanctuary that we share, and it's pretty special.

...

If you want to follow more of the story as it develops, I've been posting videos now and then on my YouTube channel:

http://www.youtube.com/user/JoyleafDancer?feature=mhsn

Makeup, Hair Dye and Cleaning it All Off...

Hello friends! I've just been catching up on the world of social networking, and while doing so I encountered a post from a friend who admitted to being remiss in her removal of makeup--much to the dismay of her eyelids. In dishing a little advice to her, I thought it might be useful for me to share a few other tidbits I've found useful and convenient.

As a general rule, I advise going for the best quality stuff you can get, using it wisely, and remembering to clean it off thoroughly before letting your head hit the pillow--however tired you are after a show or hard partying. These are the rules:

1. Buy products that have less-is-more value; get makeup that looks the way you want it to with lighter application and fewer layers, and use facial products that allow you to get more out of the makeup you have. This will not only save you money in the long run, but it will save your skin suffering under heavy makeup and merciless cleansing. While I know my preferred products are more expensive initially, I don't buy them very often and they last for ages.

2. Always take it off. Set yourself up for success by establishing a clean-up routine that is manageable. Get the right makeup remover for what you wear, and use it! Make this part as easy as possible for yourself, so that you will always do it right. This will save you time, pain and wrinkles.

3. Think of ways to make your routine adaptable. (I'll write a blog post dedicated just to this soon.) If you find yourself needing to scrub up at home, away from home, in a jungle--think of ways you can make that doable. Because, as in Rule #2, you want to make this easy so you'll be consistent.

...

I'll start with makeup. I am a big fan of MAC, for a number of reasons. Firstly, they have a passion for color, and back that up with heavy pigmentation of their eye makeup in particular. This means a lot to me, as I used to find it awfully disappointing to buy cheaper eyeshadows, only to find that they went on a pale shadow of the shade in the pan. If I'm going to bother with putting makeup on my face, I want it to be effective. Additionally, I think less is more when it comes to stuff on your face--if you can get good depth of color without having to build up layers and layers of makeup on your face, your skin will be able to breathe better and there will be less makeup to travel all over your face as the night goes on.

The best trick I have for quick and simple priming of eye makeup came to me courtesy of a MAC artist, who assisted me in buying a boatload of flashy greens, purples and blues. She recommended I also purchase a Shadestick in a nude shade. The Shadestick has some shimmer to it, and also evens the tone of the eyelid nicely, so it makes a great sheer eyeshadow on its own. However, it also has the magical ability to make any eyeshadow pop by deepening the intensity of the color; the nude Shadestick effectively makes my eyeshadows look on my eyelids like they do in the tin. It's a super light layer, and eyeshadow clings to it pretty tenaciously, making the color more buildable and long-lasting.

Similarly, the Prep + Prime Skin has worked supremely well for me as a base layer before foundation and concealer. There are two versions--one with a sunscreen and one without--and the original is pretty light and quick to absorb, reducing redness, evening skin tone and generally helping to use less foundation and concealer. (The Prep + Prime Face Protect with sunscreen is great if you're going to be out and about in the sunshine, though it is heavier than its non-SPF counterpart.)

As you might expect, I am also a fan of MAC's foundations and concealers, and for much the same reason I like the products above: I can use less of them because the pigmentation and opacity make them easier to apply exactly where I want them, rather than coating my face in heavy layers. The Studio Finish SPF 35 concealer comes in a convenient little case identical to MAC's eyeshadows, so it easily packs into a pocket or a purse, and it can be used sparingly in lieu of a full face of foundation. When I do go for a foundation, I like the Studio Tech applied with a sponge--this gives it a really natural finish, and also lets me get away with using less. (I've always preferred clean fingertips for applying creamy cosmetics, as that gives me better control, but the matte finish of the Studio Tech foundation when applied in the direction of facial fuzz is pretty wonderful.)

I could go on and on about this, but I'll leave some tips and tricks for a future post. Let's see about getting all of this stuff off of the face, now.

...

Okay, the party's over. You've fastidiously applied all of your favorite colors, fake lashes and glitter. You're tired and ready to sack out. But you still look like a drag queen, and you can't be bothered to sandblast all of the shellack off of your face.

Do not give in to your laziness. Here, you have the opportunity to avoid a big mistake. I'll explain...

All of those layers of sediment have the potential to serve as a handy substrate for bacterial growth. Furthermore, your skin needs to breathe, and the natural oils produced to keep everything moisturized and protected from the elements need to be able to escape your pores. Layers of makeup on your face can simultaneously dry your skin and keep oil trapped, and both of these effects can cause your skin to break out or age.

Additionally, eye makeup simply must come off. Your eyes are miraculous gems, and they withstand (and heal from) all sorts of punishment all day long, fighting off dust, debris and germs through the magic of your own body's mechanisms for cleanliness. All of the concerns about break-outs and drying apply to your eye area, with the added threat of eye infections. These are gross. Don't let them happen. Sleeping in your makeup allows extra time for the little oil glands at the bases of your eyelashes to get blocked, which can lead to losing those precious little hairs. Your eyes also use that resting time to heal up from little scratches and injuries, so you want to treat them kindly before nodding off so that your peepers are better off, not worse, then the were the night before. Flakey makeup and glitter are like sand in your eyes, and can do a lot of damage by morning.

I'm super careful about my eyes because I wear contact lenses. If you do too, take some extra care to ensure that your glamour and your prescription are not at odds with each other. Contacts can hold makeup and other alien substances against the surface of your eye, increasing and prolonging irritation. If you wear contacts, I'd highly recommend removing them before your eye makeup. I've always found the battle between makeup, contacts and makeup remover has one big loser--my eyes.

If you wear false lashes often, you need to do some extra care and maintenance. You want to make sure to gently but thoroughly remove all of the lash glue, and you also should make time to de-gum and sanitize any lashes you use repeatedly. Lash glue, like waterproof mascara and heavy makeup, is a great breeding ground for bacteria, both on and off of your face.

So now that we have covered why you should be fastidious in your post-show dismantlement, let's talk about the easiest way of approaching this. I have adapted my routine into a few different versions to address traveling, festivals and getting ready for bed in the comfort of my own home.

The most versatile product I've found for travel, home and the wild outdoors is the MAC makeup remover wipes. They can be chucked into a gig bag, suitcase or backpack without any worry about a mess, and they also don't require a rinse if you're stuck without the required items for a full wash. Furthermore, they can obliterate every waterproof makeup I've encountered while being gentle to skin and eyes. I try not to use them on a daily basis, as I'm not a fan of throwing away more than is necessary, but for traveling and shows they are indispensable.

For home, I love to have a bottle of MAC's Gently Off makeup remover. As I'm a fan of the Splashproof lash--possibly the most indestructible mascara I've encountered--I'm also pretty dedicated to this product, which makes getting it off a breeze. While Gently Off does utilize an oil and water suspension (you shake to mix), it feels surprisingly light and lovely, and you can also use this without a rinse if necessary.

If I'm traveling or camping, a bottle of jojoba oil is a brilliant fix-all. It is the only non-MAC product I've ever used with success to remove MAC's waterproof cosmetics, and it can also do many other duties: it's a fantastic oil for skin and hair, as it's remarkably similar to the oil our own skin produces. I've used it as a moisturizer for body and face by simply patting it on after cleaning, and it feels dry and light. However, be careful what bottle you decant it into--jojoba oil set loose in a suitcase is no fun.

Finally, I adore Lush's Ultra Bland cold cream for thoroughly cleaning after I've removed my makeup. My skin doesn't do well with soap or alcohol, and I have to be careful about leaving heavy oils or creams on overnight. Ultra Bland is a brilliant cleanser; a little goes a long way, and you remove it with a damp cotton pad, which assists the cream in picking up all of the excess oil, dirt and makeup that would make skin unhappy. Also, since it is emollient, I generally don't find I need any moisturizer on most of the face after I've used it--just a little eye cream is fine. It's a dense cream consistency, and travels very well without leaks or drips.

...

Alright. Hair will have to wait for another time. But it will be exciting--get ready for henna!!

Gradual Tribal Fest Decompress...

On Wednesday I was in Kami's class at the Fat Chance studio, and it occurred to me once more how awesome Tribal Fest actually was this year. At the end of the class, I was remembering choreography and having fun--and I remembered that I have some thanks to give to folks who helped me wipe some grime off of my relationship to dance over five days of learning, fun and partying.

Big thanks to Rachel, Mardi and Zoe for really great workshops. While learning choreography from Mardi reminded me of riding a skateboard while gripping the bumper of a fast-moving truck, I was getting most of it at the end of a very long day of dancing, and that was awesome. Zoe's workshop made me feel like I was at a rave, which was exactly what I needed at that point--I was vindicated in my choice to bring a cold Rock Star to class with me. And Rachel, as ever, reminded me of some things I need to bear in mind over three really lovely mornings of workshops. I was grateful to make some new friends in those workshops, and very grateful to reconnect with my roots, as it were.

Wendy and Mardi's performances, with their powers combined, made me so emotional. Over in that corner next to the Indigo's table, I thought my heart my break from just being overwhelmed by the goodness of everything. I probably sounded like an idiot trying to explain. Unmata were incredibly awesome and invigorating to watch, Cera's improv game deserved the standing ovation and Colleena was absolutely immaculate. So many performances rocked my world and inspired me to bits.

To my dining companions on Wednesday night, thank you and my apologies--that was a pretty whacked-out dinner. Aimee, Danielle, Laura and Shondell--never has a crew of girls been so cavalier about Rohypnol. Or arms. Thank god we didn't drink. To Kelley, Heike, Tree and Sam--I suspect that train car was not big enough for you to escape our madness. I hope you enjoyed your dinners anyway.

Thank you to the ladies of the Salome's Suitcase collective, for sharing your sparkles and your bubbly. It was such a pleasure to be part of your gorgeous show!

Sherri, Sooz and their band of merrymakers almost killed me with laughter. It was awesome! Thank you to Robyn, Jenn, Cera and Pixie, Sherri and Sooz, for bringing the funny--and the filthy. You are rad. And you could scare a djinn off, if necessary.

Maurie, Jeremiah, Saskia and Marcel, it was great to hang out with you all. Thank you for being friendly and so much fun to chill out with! Amazing.

Thanks to Jeanette for getting me up to Sebastopol, and thanks to Laura and Shondell for making sure I didn't get stuck there! Thanks to Danielle and Tatiana for being fantastic roomies. And extra big thanks to Sam for the sunny Valencia decom day. Unicorns and cachapa were exactly what I needed; also, it was fascinating to swap stories and be reminded of how many billions of things are actually happening at any given moment at TF.

And big thanks to Chuck and Kajira, for somehow holding together the chaos and letting all of the pirates, genies, steampunk princesses and snake charmers come out to play. It's a wonder of the world.

I'll unpack everything properly soon enough, but had to get the thank yous said now. More to come...

Lovely Hilde and Last London Classes

Hello lovelies,

As many of you are no doubt already aware, this Wednesday and Thursday will be the last classes I'm teaching in London the near term. My husband and I are headed back to my homeland, San Francisco, for a while, where I will hopefully soak up some sun and some new dance learning. While I will be sad to leave my students and friends here in London, I have made sure that my classes are covered by an absolutely wonderful teacher, the lovely Hilde from Brighton.

You may already know Hilde from classes she's been teaching in London and Brighton, or in her capacity as an organizer of fantastic workshops with top teachers from around the world. Since 1996, Hilde has been passionately involved in dance. Originally from Belgium, Hilde moved to Brighton (UK) in 2004 to pursue her career as a dancer. Being a fusion dancer at heart, she finds inspiration in different dance styles, such as street dance, contemporary dance, jazz, ballet, flamenco, tribal fusion and Egyptian dance techniques. Currently she is studying at Laban, one of the world’s top dance schools. She is director of the Masmoudi dance company and has hosted many sold out shows in Brighton. For more info visit www.hildebellydance.co.uk

Hilde's continuation of the classes at the Urdang Academy will commence in the second week of January. I'll send out a reminder nearer to the time, though I'd also recommend you visit her website to join her mailing list and keep up to date on her performance and events schedule.

Finally, it would be lovely to see you before I go! After class on Thursday night, I will be going with my Combinations & Experimentation class to get dinner and drinks nearby in Angel, so feel free to meet us at the Urdang Academy if you can come. And I know I'll be seeing some of you this weekend in Rome, for the Roma Tribal Meeting where I will be teaching and performing! :)

Thank you so, so much for your encouragement, support and enthusiasm for my work over the past few years! It has meant so very much to me, and it has been an honour to teach and perform for you. I am very grateful to have met a lot of gorgeous people while dancing in London, and I hope to see you all again when I visit and teach workshops and here in the new year.

Peace and beauty,

Kim