state of the indie.

yOu'Ve gOt PrEsS.

an article that mentions the jv show. pretty cool.

grilled to perfection.

i HaD tHe BeSt wEekEnD:

too close for comfort.

cLoSe EnCouNtErS. “please stop touching my ass, lady” and “get your giant i-could-take-down-a-small-adult-with-one-swing-of-these-things boobs off of me”. that was pretty much the running stream of thought in my head this morning as i rode an exceptionally crowded l train from lorimer to 14th street/6th avenue. ah, the subway. i’m getting a bike. as soon as i have the vanderslice show behind me.

a topless topple.

cRiTiCaL tIts.

okay. time to start in on my burning man stories.

let's start with a little recap of how sara & i came to be posing topless with a volunteer male nurse in the medical emergency tent at center camp. because we've all been there, right?

so i depart my safe little cocoon of new york city (yes, i do realize safe and little are not words always associated with new york city) holding firm to the resolution that those around me can do what they wish, but i will remain fully clothed while on the playa. part fear, part vanity, part self-consciousness and self-image issues, and part modesty all playing a role in my decision to keep the girls under wraps during burning man. i arrive at burning man and get through most of the week without issue. those around me are, in fact, doing what they wish, which turns out to be setting the girls free. after burning man, part of me wonders if sara will ever truly find happiness in a society that asks her to wear a shirt. and part of me knows that answer is "no." my wardrobe may be comprised of bathing suits and tank tops and bustiers and mini skirts, but i arrive at friday having kept the tummy and tits out of public view. good for me. i've been asked, more than once, by sara if i'm sure i'm really not comfortable losing my shirt, or at least downgrading to only a bikini top. i've been informed, more than once, by sara that her goal is to get me topless by the end of the week. naked may have been the word she used. and i have countered with "yes, i'm sure" and "no, you won't." and then friday afternoon comes...and the "critical tits" bike parade along the esplanade and across the playa. a celebration of women with a clever titular allusion to the "critical mass" bike rally. and, before i know it, i'm wearing a pair of bloomers from colleen, standing topless in front of a full length mirror in claire, danielle and britta's tent painting blue stars on my boobs. after posing for a number of photographs like this at camp (how quickly i went from sister mary at the convent to some sort of desert exhibitionist), we all hop on our bikes and make our way to the esplanade to join the parade. well, i have never seen anything like this before. i've certainly never been part of anything like this before. it was a mass of breasts and bikes that seemed to stretch on forever. and the whole parade was lined with spectators, mainly male, many cheering, many taking photographs, all free to look at my bare chest. it was so crowded that the women of the starcraft starflyer camp got separated in the sea of tits and tires and i ended up riding with just a few of my girls - sara, colleen, and claire - when we decided we had gone far enough along the parade route and should cut across the playa to the "afterparty." so we set out across the playa. away from the swarms of bikers and people. seemingly away from obstacles. unfortunately, however, sara and i set out right into each other. my front tire caught her back tire and i went down like a shot. it was a rather pathetic display, i really did little to nothing on my way to the ground (the hard, dry playa surface) to stop the fall or brace myself for impact. (i mean, really, jules, you are naked from the waist up and falling off a bike, react for the love of god. please. just a little. nothing?) so i hit the ground pretty hard, my right elbow and shoulder taking most of the impact. i was stunned and i was in a lot of pain. panic set in. i had been without a shirt for quite some time now, i desperately wanted cover. my elbow was all scraped up. had i broken anything? possibly my shoulder. what would i do half naked in the desert with a broken shoulder? would i have to be flown to a hospital to have it set without a shirt? might i be escorted back to camp to get a shirt before getting onto a helicopter or plane? would i be able to stay through the burn if my shoulder was broken? how would i do my yoga on saturday?? hey, these are the thoughts that were floating through my head. beer, sun, dehydration, adrenaline and my own neuroses making for some interesting fears and questions. the girls got me and our bikes over to the medical tent next to center camp. sara escorted me inside. we explained that i had been in a bike accident, at critical tits - yes, the topless bike parade. i took a seat and waited. i was examined. the male nurse took me through a whole range of motion exercises with my right arm and shoulder, only to reach the conclusion that i had suffered no more than a bruised deltoid, for which he recommended ice and advil as treatment. he cleaned up my scraped and cut elbow and bandaged it. i was calming down, finally, the panic was subsiding. nothing was broken, the pain was lessening a little, i was oh so close to getting back to camp and putting a shirt on. i thanked him for helping me. sara thanked him for helping me. we were ready to head back to camp. we were past the scare and now ready to be plain amused by the fact that she had succeeded in getting me topless and i had ended up taking a nosedive onto the playa that way. but, wait, first he wanted us to do him a favor. and pose for a picture with him. he pulled out his little disposable camera and grabbed another volunteer in the tent to act as photographer. and that is how sara & i came to pose topless with a volunteer male nurse in the medical emergency tent at center camp. god only knows where those photos will end up. but any hopes i had for being president are more or less dashed.

rock paper scissors.

wHaT aRe YoU dOiNg tHiS wEekEnD, jULiA? funny you should ask. sara, anna & i are throwing a rock show for john vanderslice in sara's backyard. oh - it's also a bbq. officially, it's the 2005 brooklyn grilled corn, mushroom, and jicama exposition. that's what john has named it. so, come and bring something to grill, something to drink, a cup to drink out of, and an article of clothing for the victims of hurricane katrina. for all the details about the show, go to www.johnvanderslice.com.

john vanderslice. in sara's backyard. i think that stress, excitement, awe, joy, sensory overload or any combination of the above might actually kill me this weekend. yeah, life is really difficult for me right now. you should definitely feel bad for me.

back from black rock.

i'Ve BeEn tHrOuGh tHe dEseRt oN a HoRsE wItH nO NaMe. well, technically, it was a little boy's bike. but it did feel good to be out of the rain.

okay, kids, it's official. i survived burning man. and i am back in new york city.

what is burning man? i still don't know how to adequately answer that question. but, i have been to burning man. i will return to burning man. i can't remember who i was before i went to burning man. and i can't imagine who i would be had i not made the decision to go to burning man.

if you want to know more than that, you are going to have to be patient with me. i'm still processing all that i saw and experienced. i'm still finding the words to describe it. i'm still looking for the time to put those thoughts together coherently. in the meantime, amuse yourself with my pictures. and trust that the stories will soon follow...