I purchased tickets last week and now I’ll begin what I hope to be the baddest dopest cloak/jacket/outfit I’ve ever made. Here I am at the very beginning of a long and time consuming process, but it will all be worth it once I feel that wind and dust blow through my handmade rags as I dance the night away in BRC.
Going to burning man saved my life. It’s not an uncommon phrase. You hear it often when you come across veteran burners both on and off playa.
Going to burning man saved my life. It doesn’t quite encompass the full meaning of what goes down in the mind of the speaker when they say it.
I don’t think they mean all the blinky lights, pounding bass music and subtle smells of sweat and incense changed them on a molecular level and magically healed their hurt. (Then again some people seem to REAAALLY like blinky lights and oontz oontz music so who knows if that’s occasionally the case)
But what I do know is that when I say Going to burning man saved my life, I mean infinitely more than whats on the surface of that sentence.
I’ve seen the eye rolls that follow this phrasing. How can a loud party in the desert with a bunch of potheads save your life?