Dan Krauss is a high energy photographer with a fear of a dull life. Unable to sit still for long, Krauss’s high energy and focus is implemented into his constant need to experience, capture and share. Since graduating from Ohio University he has started his freelance career in sunny Los Angeles. His unique approach has landed him regular assignments for publications such as The New York Times, Los Angeles Times, The Wall Street Journal, ESPN the Magazine, Bon Appetit, and Associated Press. Krauss can be found clinging to cliff faces, dangling from trees, walking highlines over vast gaps in space, or sipping on a delicious craft IPA.
This year I ventured back to the dusty, temporary city built by a collective consciousness of wild imaginations. It was my second experience covering Burning Man and was not any easier than the year before. Every year I attend, I go into it with big plans and project ideas, but all that ever does is provide me with an insoluble amount of stress. The playa has a mind of its own and it violently spews out any preconceived ambition you may have. Time is non-existent and cross-playa communication is impossible. Though there does happen to be a mail service.
Once you realize you have no control, the photography process becomes simpler. This time I decided to just go and experience what unfolded before me. I made no plans and flew by the seat of my pants. I camped with Charlie the Unicorn (a fire spitting double-decker art car) and his team of happy, horned minions. Proper planning led to a comfortable living situation with shade, showers, and delicious gourmet meals every day. Living in a dusty wasteland really doesn’t get much better.
There were so many surprises this time around, including a midnight lightning storm bringing a soft drizzle to the thirsty folks below. It was such a magical thing to experience. Dust storms turned to complete white-outs, making the world around you completely disappear for minutes at a time. The climate was a bit cooler this year, which made afternoon exploration more possible. I managed to escape without a raging sunburn this time.
After a few days of pure bliss and racing against my own exhaustion, Burn Day came and my body shut down. After my previous night of drinking, I was done for. Those camps sure do make strong drinks. The whole day I sat around dehydrated, trying to stay cool and not move. On and on I kept thinking, “I’m done with it. I’m sick of the dust and the heat. I’ve done everything I want to do and I’m ready to go home.” The playa had spoiled me with fun, and I should have tried harder to stop it.
We decided to leave after the burn. The man exploded into a mushroom cloud, and I watched patiently in the blistering heat as the last pieces softly fell to the ground. The crowd erupted into screams and applause while every art car tried to drown out the sounds of its neighbor. My girlfriend and I walked back through the madness to the loaded car and we drove down the 10 miles of moon-like road toward the exit. As soon as the tires squeaked on the pavement, I yearned to go back.
We crossed through Bishop and the rising sun bathed Mt. Whitney in pink and gold. Happiness flooded through my body and tears welled up in my eyes. It was one of those moments of clarity when you realize just how amazing the world is and how lucky you are to be a part of it. Everything looked different when I got back home (beside the fact that my roommates rearranged the furniture). I saw things that I had driven by thousands of times and never noticed before. I even thought my computer was someone else’s at first glance.
Last year, the playa started a transformation inside me to better myself. I felt like a completely different person when I returned and I can’t wait to see how I transform over the next year. Thank you Burning Man, you’ve outdone yourself again.
