By Jade Lane

For some, it was a week for 35,000 people to party in the desert like never before. For others, it was a time to view artwork so massive, or outlandish, that it simply can't be shown anywhere else. And for still others, it was a time to express themselves in ways that whatever constraints they might feel elsewhere don't allow them to. That's the beauty of Burning Man - everyone takes something different away from the playa, and no two experiences are quite the same.

"I realize it's not any one thing," said Emilio Gonzalez of San Jose, who attended his first Burn. "People always want to categorize Burning Man. They say it's a big rave. Or it's a big art festival, a big sex party or a freak show. It's none of those things and all of those things."

It is the "virgins" -- as those attending their first Burn are known -- who were perhaps most impressed, if only because they had little idea what to expect. But seasoned burners say Burning Man isn't about the sights, it's about the people and the feeling of community they bring to the playa.

And it must be experienced to be appreciated

Black Rock City is the kind of place where strangers will invite you to dinner or pass the bottle or a toke your way, help you find your tent after you've had a bit too much good cheer, or give you a jump start when your RV dies.

By week's end, the donation center for the victims of Hurricane Katrina was overflowing with cash, two-way radios and a long list of burners willing to open their homes to those who no longer have one. It seemed everyone with a laptop was only too happy to turn it over to someone from the Gulf Coast so they could get word from their loved ones. Many hope to take that sense of community, that feeling that we're all in this together, home with them and perhaps change their lives.

Burning Man founder Larry Harvey has said that many who come here each year completely reshape their lives afterward -- some even go so far as to quit their jobs. Though not everyone may be so zealous, many burners say they try to take some of what they found here back with them.

The original idea of the festival is rooted in many of the world’s religions and self-help groups: to take stock of one’s life, to forgive those who one may have wronged during the previous year and to seek forgiveness of those one may have offended. To write all of this down on a piece of paper, then burn the page and start your life anew. The Man symbolizes this, and the week of Festival – like Mardi Gras – symbolizes the release of the old before embracing the new. Of course, many who come could care less about the symbolism and just like to party. What is required is that everyone participates; there can be no bystanders at the Festival.

Nudity is everywhere, but not required. (Although with the temperatures always hovering near or above 100 degrees, with no shade, and plenty of dust, it doesn’t take long to abandon your clothes if just for the fact that everything is too filthy to wear after the first day anyway.) Because of the dust, bicycles are the accepted form of transportation. Burning Man is also loud. Name your style of music and it is here. If you don’t like the beat, just move down the path another 50 feet. Stand still for 5 minutes and I guarantee someone will come up and offer to paint your body.

There are absolutely no conveniences here: no water, no food, nothing. You must bring in everything you will need, and also take everything back out when you leave, as there are no trash services. Having your own portable toilet is also a must, as the long lines for the Andy Gumps are almost unbearable.

But for all the challenges, for all the sunburns and hangovers and dust found on your body in places that have no business being dusty, a good number of those who come to Burning Man leave vowing to return after the next year beyond the playa.