October, 2022
There is a labyrinth set up at one of the neighboring camps. It’s a sunny, brisk day after night rains left water in our tents, which we had set up after a long, tiring drive the day before. I’m in a temporary ‘town,’ the Alchemy Burn gathering in Northwest Georgia, a pretty area of rolling hills at a time of seasonal change. The octagonal labyrinth beckons, and it feels like sacred space.
It’s a “traveling labyrinth” set up by Old Man Dale, a head event organizer, listed on the worldwide labyrinth locator. Here, thrice a day, Dale and two other men stand at three of the four entrances as part of a ritual. When approached, they offer a hug or a challenge. At night, the labyrinth is illuminated. I walk it several times, in and out of each entrance. Dale says his labyrinth is based off of a design from France in the 15th century (I forget where exactly, now), not “classical” or “medieval.”
I am attending this Burn partly to help with my sister’s research booth. It’s a wonderful experience over 4-5 days, and there is much more than can be told in this post. Nights are fairly cold, but it’s worth it to camp out again, with moon and stars in view. Afternoons are bright and warm, almost hot. Everyone I meet is kind and open, and there are a lot of folks here. This is the first large gathering I’ve attended since the beginning of the pandemic, that is not solely for a job.
The attempts to create temporary communities/societies based on guiding principles help Burns stand out as a model for festivals and public events. The effigy-burning ritual channels ancient practice, with tech-era energy and electronic music present, thumps reverberating across the shadowy hills.
One of the guiding principles of a Burn is “radical participation” where all attendees are actively involved, part of the event; there are no spectators or consumers. This is a reminder of my collaborative artistic vision for Found Objects of Desire, my music project, in its early days. Though the environments of my current daily life don’t support it, the message here is “don’t give up on your vision, Ari.”
Two other distinctive aspects of a Burn is that nothing is for sale, and no trace is to be left. Bring all you need with you, share with your community, then take it all as you leave (or burn it down appropriately).
As the last morning light comes and the fires turn to ash, the tents and labyrinth are packed away and the attendees slowly leave the temporary community. The rolling grassy hills become clear and quiet again. I’m glad I walked through that labyrinth.
arianna's creative travels 