...Our days were spent wandering around the camp — going to raves under the mid-day sun and sheltering ourselves in the huge cafe during the rain. We biked out to see some of the large sculptures in the desert and got caught in a sand storm. After first attempting to bike back, we gave up and sat on the floor covering our eyes and heads. After 5 minutes of that, we got bored and pushed our bikes back in what we thought was the right direction. Slowly, some wooden art structures became visible and then vanished again — and then reappeared. All of a sudden, a figure appeared, walking out of the dust storm— best described as a naked, middle-aged man with a pot-belly. He strolled nonchalantly along and then vanished back into the swirls of sand...

© Sheila Masson, 2001

ECHO: Volume 3 Issue 2
Levitz: In the Footsteps of Eurydice * Kassabian: Ubiquitous Listening * Draughon and Knapp: Mahler and the Crisis of Jewish Identity * Musical Perspectives on September 11 * Anne Elise Thomas: Reflections on September 11
*Kopplin: Allen Forte* Dickinson: Brain in a Box * Marsh: The Complete Ockeghem * Write to ECHO