Raw, idiom, 14b: Informal. in the nude; naked: sunbathing in the raw.

Burning Man runs through Labor Day in the Nevada desert. The City's emptying out for it, per usual, following the big Outside Lands music festival over the weekend.

I'm jealous; every year I tell myself I'll go the next, and it's been six now, and I still haven't. That's pathetic. Soon. The desert arts festival aspires to celebrate the best of much that I love: art and nature and fresh air and simplicity and non-commodified reality. "Aspires" being the key word, of course; $300 tickets and mushrooming plans make the desert experience less base than it was a few years ago, but the intentions ring clear, and I can't help but respect that.

Mark Morford's column from last Friday sings out a characteristically adjective-filled manic run-on paean to the festival. Read it. Black out your calendar for next year so that you can go, too. Or hop on a friend's RV and make it happen in these next few days, if you're so inclined.

The Life Lessons of Burning Man (SFGate)


fitz said…
A fine story regarding Burning Man hosted by The Moth in NYC:


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