Refilling My Creative Well: What Desert Art, Burning Man, and a Kind Stranger Taught Me About Presence

Permission to climb.
Permission to play.
Permission to reconnect with the kid inside who saw a pile of rocks and thought, YES.

When the CA Desert Becomes a Playground

If you’ve ever been to Burning Man, you know the rule:
If it looks sturdy, climb it. If it doesn’t, climb it carefully or, more basic: See Art, Climb it!

After ten years of dusty pilgrimages to the Playa, my brain is wired to see large art as something interactive and immersive, often with hidden secrets tucked away to be found. Out in the desert, art isn’t something you admire, it’s something you experience.

So when Desert X rolls into town every two years, it’s like a mini Burning Man dropped into the Southern California low desert. Curated, large-scale art—free and open to the public—sprawled from Palm Springs to Indio to Desert Hot Springs.

But this year hit different for me.

For whatever reason, I hadn’t given myself the space to experience the art. I was moving through life, but not letting much move through me.

That changed this past weekend.

When the Art Touched Back

Driving from the low desert back to Joshua Tree, I finally pulled over at a giant rock formation sculpture I’d passed countless times. I didn’t know it yet, but I was starving for creativity, for wonder, for connection. Nestled amongst the infamous Coachella windmills, I stepped out of my car and into the wind, touched the boulders, and climbed up the first rock.

And suddenly, I was a kid again, beaming from ear to ear.

But this story isn’t just about art.

It’s about self-awareness, a surprise Karen moment (yep, I went there), and the quiet epiphany that somewhere along the way, I’d stopped refilling my creative well.

Morning Pages + the Missing Ingredient

I’ve been religiously writing Morning Pages, a daily ritual of stream-of-consciousness journaling that’s helped me navigate recovery, divorce, and deep personal healing. Alongside meditation (another key Anchor I wrote about in my post 10,000 Minutes of Meditation: Becoming the Expert of My Own Mind), Morning Pages have been a foundational practice for me.

But lately, something’s been off.

I was pouring out the noise in my head…
but not pouring anything back in.

If you’ve read The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron, you know Morning Pages are only half of the creative reset. The other half is the Artist’s Date, a weekly solo adventure to refill your creative cup.

And standing there, surrounded by wind and stone and sky, I realized:
I hadn’t been taking myself on Artist’s Dates.
I’d been outputting constantly, but forgot to replenish.

Art Stop #1: Climb Something in Nature

The Act of Being Together by Jose Dávila

The moment I spontaneously decided to turn off the highway and go towards the art, I felt it. That internal feeling of permission to play.

As I parked and walked toward the art with the “See Art, Climb It” instinct kicked in.

No one else was there. Just me and these stacked stone shapes, framed by desert windmills.

I climbed. I smiled. I soaked in this moment like a joyful little kid.
And for the first time in a long time, I felt the power of giving myself permission for joy!

Lesson: Joy doesn’t need a reason. It just needs permission.

Art Stop #2: Soul Service Station

Soul Service Station by Alison Saar

Next up: a whimsical, soul-hugging piece that looked like a gas station for the spirit.
The pump handle? A seashell you could lift to “hear the ocean.”

My inner child swooned.

What made this stop even better? A mother and young daughter exploring the piece when I arrived. They were taking pictures and giggling, and I offered to snap one of them together.

Just like that, connection.

I asked the little girl if she liked the art, and her face was beaming like mine climbing the rocks.

They told me about another holographic-style art piece just down the road. I told them about the climbing rock boulders I had just come from in the other direction, and the little girl’s face lit up again! 

I shared the seashell secret with the next curious family that came through, and off I was to the next art piece.

Lesson: Creativity multiplies when we share it. Generosity is a creative act, too.

Art Stop #3: When My Inner Karen Made a Cameo

To Breathe by Kimsooja

This art touched back.
A mirror made of color, reflection, and a very gentle ego check.
I left this one with a promise: Curiosity over assumption. Always.

This is where the mirror turned toward me, and yes, this time it was a holographic, rainbow one.

At sunset, I was walking a quarter-mile through the desert to this next piece, feeling floaty and free. As I approached, I noticed two people inside the structure, so I slowed down to give them space.

As they exited, we exchanged the classic desert trail “hello.”

Then, one of the women asked:

“Are you going inside?”

And without thinking, I said in full Karen tone:

“Of course I’m going inside.”

YIKES.

Her face shifted. I immediately realized I’d sounded rude and dismissive. So I paused, softened, and clarified: “Wait, did you ask if I was going inside the art?”

She nodded. She explained that she hadn’t realized it could be entered. She thought it was just to be looked at.

And that’s when it hit me:
My Burning Man brain assumed all desert art was interactive.
Hers didn’t.

She had wanted to share something magical with me, and instead, I bulldozed the moment with sarcasm and assumption. Ugh.

I apologized, acknowledged her perspective, and we went our separate ways.

Then I stepped inside the piece, just me, the sunlight, and the kaleidoscope shadows. I took rainbow selfies and whispered a quiet promise to myself:

Next time, lead with curiosity. Not assumption.

Lesson: Self-awareness isn’t about being perfect.
It’s about noticing in real-time, choosing again, and vowing to show up better next time.

When your “inner Karen moment” gets a literal sign from the universe. (Yes, I took the exit.)

The Bigger Shift: What I’ve Been Missing

Driving home, heart full, I realized this desert art adventure wasn’t just about creativity, it was about remembering how to be human again.

Somewhere along the way, I’d been stopping at the Soul Service Station every morning with my Morning Pages, emptying out all the thoughts, emotions, and noise in my mind...

…but I wasn’t refueling.

⛽ I’d been running on empty creatively.

✨ No joy.
✨ No play.
✨ No curiosity
✨ No wonder.

And the thing is, our spirits need fuel as much as our minds need release.

Those Artist’s Dates I’d let slide?

They’re not optional.

They’re essential.

They’re the fill-up my soul had been quietly begging for.

Final Thought: Keep Pouring In

Morning Pages help me clear the noise.
Artist’s Dates help me hear my own voice again.

Together, they’ve become my creative inhale and exhale.

And somewhere between wind-blown boulders and holographic sunsets, I remembered:
✨ Creativity isn’t just an outlet. It’s a lifeline. ✨

So if you’re wondering when the last time was that you played just for fun…

Here’s your nudge:

Take yourself on an Artist Date.
Fill your cup.
Climb something weird.
Be curious.
Be kind.
And above all…
#KeepCreating 💖