Burning Man
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On a parched desert landscape in Central Nevada they come in droves from across the country, across the world. In a cloud of white dust and scorching daytime temperatures upwards of 50,000 revelers build a city reminiscent of some giant crop circle from the ground up. Their pilgrimage takes them home to The Playa, where, for one week each year freedom of expression is the tenet of this movement. Like many of its inhabitants though, the city is a transient beast and like the hundreds of art installations ceremoniously burnt to the ground over the course of the week is dissolved in the blink of an eye and a retreating cloud of powder-white.
