My Journey to AfrikaBurn, and An Invitation for You to Shine

It’s August, and here I am in my first Cape Town winter. A song blasts “Feels Like a Sunday”, which sounds like “feels like a someday” through my headphones. Feeling empowered, I dance, overlooking the city lights. A thought strikes me: What if I could inspire people to follow their calling? Make future artists not say “someday” but “today”. So, I start to write …

Fast forward to October: spring returns, the city blooms, and I reflect on the lessons I’ve gained as an installation artist at AfrikaBurn. Six years ago, a friend in Belgium told me he was going to the event. It sparked something in me, a calling I’d first heard two years earlier, but hesitated to answer. This time, I listened. I dove into the AfrikaBurn website, exploring its Eleven Principles and the open call to submit ideas for art, camps, and mutant vehicles. It kickstarted my journey, one that has transformed my life in ways I never imagined. I left Europe and now live full-time in South Africa. Creating art has allowed me to shed layers of doubt, learn from failure, and uncover my most authentic self. It’s been a journey – six years, five projects, four burns, condensed into 5 lessons.

Years ago, I read an article that made me realize: I could do this. Now, I’ve come full circle, writing to pass on that same belief to you. This is the heart of “Each One, Teach One.” I invite you: let AfrikaBurn transform you. Bring your art to the Burn, YOU CAN DO IT!

Lesson 1: AfrikaBurn becomes What You Make It – Participate, Create YOUR Experience

People often assume you’re “chosen to create art”. But AfrikaBurn doesn’t “select” artists, it invites participation. Everyone, from all backgrounds, is welcome to co-create with no permission slip needed. You might arrive with your artwork on the event’s first day, but applying early helps. Creating isn’t all boundless creativity, it’s demanding, from sourcing materials to coordinating in the desert heat. Yet these gritty realities deepen the experience. So, if you have a dream, create it! You don’t need to be a traditional artist! Bring art, a theme camp, a mutant vehicle, volunteer, or contribute in any way that calls to you. The more people create, the more the Burn thrives.

Not sure what to create? AfrikaBurn is the perfect playground for exploring ideas, an open canvas to experiment and step outside your comfort zone. My inspiration has come from everywhere: transforming grief into art, filling a need for more interactive spaces on the Binnekring, or simply handing out 900+ granadilla lollies in the desert. Installations are as much about building bridges as they are about self-expression; they’re social spaces that spark conversation and shared moments. You may never see the full impact of your art, your space, or even your presence—but it can ignite something meaningful in someone else. Art connects us in ways words can’t. Tune into whatever draws your attention and turn it into art! Whether it’s adding a quiet space, acoustic music, or transforming a bedside lamp into a giant, glowing sculpture, remember: everyone is an artist.

My first year, I took the plunge without knowing if I was ready, but that uncertainty became part of the adventure. And yes, you can create something even if you’ve never been before! I did it. Was my first experience smooth? Not exactly—but every shaky moment taught me something I couldn’t have learned otherwise. The vibrant community welcomed me, and friendships from that first Burn have lasted to this day. And that’s the beauty of AfrikaBurn: it’s a space for anyone willing to bring their vision, rough edges and all, to become part of something bigger. If you’ve been waiting for a sign to bring your idea to AfrikaBurn, this it is. Imagine if everyone dared to bring their brightest self forward. Go ahead—let your light shine. Stop waiting and start creating. Invent the world anew, starting deep within.

I’ve been called ‘special’ for creating, but I’m just someone who chased my dreams and made them real. You have that power too. It was a rough path, but each stumble taught me something. Keep failing forward! I grew more confident and began to see how those who created with me were inspired to pursue their own visions. There’s a ripple effect: when we share our art, we encourage others to take their own creative leaps. Dudies, if you’re reading this, I believe in you! I can’t wait to see what you create. AfrikaBurn has been a platform for me to challenge myself, to test my creative endeavors on an open canvas, to heal from grief and simply a space where I peeled off the layers until my true self emerged. Someone inspired me all those years ago, and now the wave is spreading. It’s your turn to ride it, bring your vision to life, and inspire others. Are you ready to catch the creation wave?

Lesson 2: Overcoming Fears – Creative Doubts and Imposter Syndrome

You got your idea and you’re ready — until the doubts creep in. Can I do this? What will people think? Others look to you as their guide, if you believe in your work, they will too. When fear hits, break it down into small actions to bring your idea to reality. Facing obstacles? Think of creative solutions. Need a team? Ask around or post in the AfrikaBurn groups. Low on funds? Fundraise or apply for a grant. Time constraints? Trade a Netflix binge for art time. Even a few hours each weekend helps. Small steps add up faster than you’d expect.

My first year was intense: I’d never attended AfrikaBurn but was determined to create. I took it step by step: read the AfrikaBurn website, thought out the process from end to beginning (a great way to un-hack your brain), and reached out for help. Each day, I held onto that vision of my piece in the desert, which inspired my crew. They saw my determination and thought, ‘If she believes, there’s something to this.’ Then, one day, as I saw everyone grafting hard, I thought: ‘OMG, it’s happening’. That first year, I had to push through real limitations. The project was downscaled and made from scrap pallets, but the simplicity worked—it was a space for people to connect, to grieve. It taught me that meaning trumps materials. Another year, a key crew member left mid-process and I was devastated. But I drew on that trust I’d learned my first burn, spread the word, found a new crew, and pulled it off again.

After all my projects, I still feel doubts sometimes. You don’t need it all figured out to start. I’ve grown from feeling unsure to leading crews. Accountability is a powerful tool: Reflect, learn, change. My greatest accomplishments weren’t the finished pieces but overcoming the struggles, the tweaking, the growth. The real magic is in the journey, not the end result. No one ever feels fully ready; you evolve through the process.

Dare to shine—don’t shrink because of someone else’s opinion. Think of the broader impact. Art can be a personal journey, but also something that leaves a legacy—whether communal, collaborative, or eco-conscious. Think of those who might find laughter, inspiration, or a moment to unwind because of your work. That’s what matters. One time I created an oasis with umbrellas and chairs at the desert’s edge, a peaceful space to reflect and connect. Hearing stories from those who loved it brought tears of joy.

Art doesn’t just transform the creator; it shapes the people and space around it, creating shared experiences that ripple outward. Don’t let others’ opinions hold you back—some will dislike your work, but others will love it. Trust in your vision, and everything else will follow.

NOW GO GIVE YOURSELF PERMISSION TO TAKE OPPORTUNITIES FOR YOUR VOICE AND IDEAS TO BE SEEN, HEARD AND CELEBRATED. 

Lesson 3: Collaboration and Community Support – Building Your Team

You believe in your idea, you’re ready to create. Do you need a crew? It depends on your project’s scale. Mine did, and I wouldn’t be where I am without the help I received along the way. My first year, not knowing anyone, I reached out in AfrikaBurn groups searching for volunteers. Afterwards, I met people in the desert and slowly a collective grew. If you’re starting out, consider joining an established crew to gain insight, meet other creators, or reach out directly to friends.

Balancing self-reliance with community support is important. In my first year I bumped into a huge cultural difference between Europe & South-Africa: Europeans tend to commit only when certain, while South Africans often offer help as a polite gesture rather than a firm commitment. Navigating these differences showed me the importance of clear expectations and communication. By my second year, I kept my crew small, focusing on showing up more self-reliant. You live, and you learn!

Again: communicate, communicate, communicate, this goes both ways. If someone overpromises, it’s often an issue of miscommunicating their capacity. To avoid drama, encourage open dialogue and ask your team to flag problems early. Desert troubleshooting is a given, but the sooner you spot an issue, the easier it is to handle. And remember, everything out there takes triple the time and five times the people. You’ll be at the mercy of the elements, so things can turn quickly. To set up your project for success, prepare for failure: imagine what could go wrong and plan solutions in advance. Bring extra solar chargers, double up on people for critical tasks—whatever it takes.

For my last projects I asked everyone involved how much time they could realistically commit, what skills they brought, and what they hoped to gain. The first question I ask is: what are your strengths and weaknesses? Every single person has thrived in situations where their best quality was put in place and also shown their worst, especially once in the desert. However, being proactive as a crew lead, saved me headaches because I could plan ahead.

Ask for help, set clear expectations, and communicate. Your project will thrive even when you’re all running on fumes or facing unforeseen challenges. Art in the desert is a collective journey. Balance self-sufficiency with open communication and trust in the power of your crew. Together, you can overcome any challenge. I’ve met most of my closest friends in that desert, and every year I’m amazed at how the universe sends the right people my way. Each project, no matter how bumpy, has come together beautifully thanks to their help. You know who you are, thank you from the bottom of my heart. ❤️

Lesson 4: Growing from Mistakes and Challenges – Transformation and Personal Growth

Creative growth is rarely straightforward—it’s filled with twists, tests, and transformations. Each setback teaches a lesson and every challenge builds resilience. Both supporters and critics play vital roles; some ease the way, while others reveal hidden areas for growth. My advice? Embrace the imperfections—creativity is messy, just like us.

My first burn was a steep learning curve in not taking on more than you can chew. I unexpectedly became camp lead on top of my creative project. Afraid of losing help, I tried to juggle it all until finally admitting I was in over my head. My team rallied, taking things off my plate, and showing me that sharing challenges opens doors to unexpected support. I also wished I had been braver in fundraising; asking for help, especially money, can be daunting. I learned to adapt and downscale my project while remaining true to my vision. But you have to do what you have to do to bring your vision to life. When we burned the piece, I saw every crooked nail and improvised fix as part of the story of that journey—its beauty lay in its imperfections.

This was the only art I chose to burn, releasing deep personal grief. Though the tears didn’t flow as hoped, it marked a clear ‘before and after.’ This experience transformed my understanding of both art and healing. All these years later, I’m still peeling back layers, and each brings me closer to a profound sense of peace I never thought possible. Like Alice, I went deep into the rabbit hole—and found my way back, transformed.

By the second burn, failure had become fuel. I focused on self-reliance, learning carpentry, prototyping my chairs, and sharing my skills with my crew. My vision took shape as an oasis of parasols and chairs, a quiet escape at the desert’s edge, away from the event’s chaos. A true testament to the power of preparation as it came to life exactly as envisioned. Yet once it was done, I felt a strange emptiness. I realized that my true joy lay not in the finished piece but in the act of building it.

Project three, a moveable cart operated by manpower, was a test in adapting to loss and letting others step in. Halfway through, a key crew member dropped out. With my emotions running high, I found myself depending on my team more than ever. They took on new skills in the desert, transforming a near-failure into something stronger. It was a lesson in trust and ambition—learning that pushing through setbacks doesn’t mean pushing alone. It made me resilient and grateful for a strong, supportive crew. I also found unexpected healing in the wider community. Those who carried me through that emotional rough patch, I hold in my heart forever!

By the last burn, I shifted from healing to joyous play. We had two projects but were prepared. By now I knew to have many contingency plans in place. It worked so well, that we brought 900 ice-creams into the desert without a single one melting! Meanwhile, Skillboratory was set up and taken down so swiftly, I almost forgot we had a second project. I knew my crew and what to expect, there were still bumps, but I wasn’t knocked over by them as easily.

Key Takeaways for Newcomers: Start small, test ideas, and let your creative muscles grow gradually. Embrace the chaos: your best projects often emerge from countless sketches and prototypes. Prepare with purpose: AfrikaBurn offers plenty of practical advice online. Think of packing & prep in terms of YOUR best experiences, is our project prebuild, do we need a stretchy for the camp, what does my ideal sleeping situation look like … And remember, it’s not about the final piece but the journey, each challenge calling us deeper into what matters. If you feel that spark, answer it—dive into the mess, lean into the process, and let it shape you in unexpected ways.

Lesson 5: Dealing with Burnout and Setting Boundaries

Creating art out there strips you down before it builds you back up and the emotional toll can be heavy. This is where boundaries come in. They aren’t just a side lesson but essential for survival and fulfilment. Healthy connections require both people to meet halfway; it’s a two-way street. True accountability comes with action, not words.

Last AfrikaBurn even with my best crew and smoothest projects, I couldn’t escape a deep sense of exhaustion. I felt like I’d looked too deep into the looking glass and found the magic slipping away. When my own ice cream cart bruised both my ankles, making walking difficult. I realised I’d hit the limits of my ambition. What happens when all your plans succeed, but you’re too burned out to enjoy them? Self-care isn’t a luxury; it’s a necessity. Gifting should be rewarding, not a sacrifice. Pacing yourself and setting boundaries—even with yourself—becomes critical. Avoid running into your own artwork, figuratively and physically.

For those new to the Burn (and a reminder for veterans): Pace yourself; it’s a marathon, not a sprint. Consider what you can genuinely offer without depleting yourself. Plan intentional gifting moments rather than constant offerings, giving yourself space to recharge and truly experience the magic. Take time to soak in the art, laughter, and unexpected connections. Yes, there’s work and sweat, but the beauty lies in balancing these with play and joy. And Sparkle Ponies, step up: less receiving, more giving for you!

AfrikaBurn is as much a celebration as it is a challenge—a space to embrace every spontaneous laugh and every golden sunset. It asks much of you, but it also rewards every ounce you give. Protect your energy to experience its full magic. There’s a rhythm of the Burn: times to push forward with ambition, and times to step back and simply be.

Conclusion: An Invitation to Shine

Six years ago, I took a leap of faith and followed my calling to create, turning my life upside down—in the best way possible. The Burn has challenged me to my limits, transforming me from a wide-eyed dreamer into a doer who knows how to make things happen (and how to bring five backup plans just in case). Now, here I am, sitting in apartment 6 in Cape Town, having spiralled out of my old life into something truer. AfrikaBurn has been my bridge to healing, friendships, and the courage to overcome fears. This journey has made me a leader in my own right—never fierce, but direct when needed, always holding space with love. And next year, I’ll be back, more relaxed than ever, ready to dance under that African sun.

Let my words spark a ripple effect for you. If you feel it, congratulations—your spark has been lit! Whether it’s to create something at AfrikaBurn or to follow a dream you’ve always been scared to pursue, trust yourself. You don’t have to be perfect or have all the answers — just start. I’m just a regular girl from Belgium who once told herself: “Hey, I’m gonna do things.” You have that power too. Dare to shine, show up for yourself, and let the process unfold. You never know what kind of magic you’ll create along the way.

With love – Captain Maya, Belginese, The Dude Collective lead, your ultimate cheerleader future-artist-to-be.

See you in the dust, awakened creator. I can’t wait to come play, dance, celebrate you and your beautiful gift.