an intimation of autumn hangs thinly in the air on a tuesday morning after a holiday weekend in san francisco. there is something in the angle of the shadows, something in the scent of leaves that have inevitably started to turn. i look forward to the crisp afternoons of clear skies and strong winds, but it also brings with it a bit of melancholy.
for now, however, i tend not to dwell on the end of summer. i am in san francisco again, having spent the last nine days here, with four to go before returning to venice.
while i am still acclimating to the disruptions of moving our home base every few weeks, the benefts of coming up here is that it affords me an opportunity to get a mental break from whatever project i had been struggling with, which often gives me a new perspective, allowing me to better resolve the problems with the project.
the past three days have been spent almost exclusively with friends and activities in san francisco. we’ve spent most of the weekend on foot, including a 16 km urban hike on saturday. we’ve been out to eat a lot, which is always nice, and san francisco has that to offer, but, of course, one tends to feel a bit guilty after so much indulgence, and there’s always a concern for the pocket book. nonetheless, i’ve had an opportunity to taste a new interpretation of the new england lobster roll for one, (the lobster was marinated in lime and served chilled with warm tempura battered pickles and a mexican version of cole slaw), and i’ve enjoyed a really thought-provoking watermelon salad (with watercress and a reduction made from balsamic vinegar)… i’ve had a very delicate spinach risotto with calamari and karl johan mushrooms, a frothy pisco sour (a drink that i first tried in chile back in 1994, and now i understand why i never made much of an effort to find the liqueur again)… a. and i enjoyed sardines seared in olive oil and sage on friday and a moroccan bastilla on saturday – a sweet and savoury pancake filled with couscous, almonds, plums and vegetables, topped with confectioner’s sugar.
and so, the labour day weekend comes to an end, and while walking the streets on our way home the apartment in dogpatch late in the day yesterday, one notices a slow ad hoc parade of dust-covered cars and s.u.v.s. making their way over the bay bridge… and later, one will see several more examples of these cars parked in different neighborhoods. they are coming back from the black rock desert in northern nevada, where the week long burning man festival has just concluded.
i was there, years ago, when there were only 8.000 people in attendence. for ten days, one is camped in the harshest desert conditions that the united states has to offer, self-sufficient in a tent with all of the food and water that one can bring. it is hard to say precisely what the festival was about back then, other than it provided each guest with the chance to be a part of an unusual community of mainly san franciscans and ex-new yorkers, many of whom came to the desert to find the space to construct large art installations. for most of us, it was an opportuity to live without most of the boundaries that every day life routinely had to offer. it is not to say that the wide expanse of the desert is boundary-less – the weather, the stifling heat and arid conditions, the lack of natural shelter all offer limitations on social behaviour. but in these conditions, the 8.000 people who gathered would find a way to work together, make food and music together, to socialize, to dance, to go to parties, and on the last sunday of the festival, almost every one of those 8.000 people would form a very large circle around a wooden statue of a man – and the wooden statue would be burned to the ground, and then every art project that was built in the desert would also be burned to the ground, and then the festival would end, and the clean-up would begin.
i would imagine that for almost all of human history, people have gathered around fires in order to share food, drink and stories, and, in this regard, the burning man festival is no different. it is curious that for all of the luxuries and modern technology that fill our days with efficiency, purpose as well as distraction, there are still many people who go back to the oldest rituals and find solace there.
these days, the festival attracks upwards of 50.000, and the whole experience is now professionally managed by various businesses. there is television coverage of the event, live video and internet broadcasting and armed security keeping an eye on things. since i have not been back, i can’t say whether this is good or bad. i can only say that every labour day, since sometime back in the early 1990s, you will find a strange parade of cars returning to san francisco, and these cars are covered with dust from the playa of the black rock desert, and people leave the dust on their cars like temporary tatoos, interim proof that they were members of the tribe for that long week.
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