The Jelly Fish
Wednesday night, Jennie and I arrive at the Bass Canyon Campout. It’s quiet. Sacred. Still forming.
Most of the tribe will show up Thursday, but already the land is whispering.
Then a truck rolls in. Trailer behind it.
It’s my friend Jim.
Master camper. Burner. Artist. Storyteller.
And on his trailer?
The Jelly Fish.
He’s told me about this piece for years. I’ve seen the photos. Heard the legends.
He built it for Burning Man—his own glowing temple of light and wonder.
Last week he asked if he could bring it to Bass Canyon.
I said yes without hesitation.
So on this first night, while my back was sore from a day of heavy setup, Jim—with help from Jennie—unloaded the beast with grace and precision.
And when it lit up?
Man… it hummed.
This isn’t just a jellyfish sculpture. It’s alive. It holds the energy of the Playa. Of nights under desert skies. Of strangers turned soul family.
It radiates Peace. Wonder. Awe.
For four nights, the Jelly Fish came alive at dusk. Her lights pulsing like a heart. Her tentacles swaying with secrets.
She turned off the noise in my head. The polite programming. The stale stories.
She reprogrammed my soul.
Thank you Jim—for building it, for bringing it, and for being who you are.
This tribe is better because of you.
The Jelly Fish will always be part of this sacred story.
Talk about lighting a sacred fire!
Let’s go.
— Jason