Renegade Burning Man Proves They Don’t Need An ‘Org’
Photo by Denys Nevozhai on Unsplash.
After my first Burning Man in 2018, I wasn’t sure if I would ever be able to return. Since the pandemic, I, along with many other Renoites, have been in an endless struggle of financial strain as things go back to “normal.” Rent is almost at San Francisco levels, gas is skyrocketing and more people from out of state continue to move here, driving the hard-working locals out. There are some weeks where I can’t even afford fresh groceries. Going to a festival out in the middle of the desert was the last thing on my mind as September approached. It’s no secret that Burning Man is expensive, which is kind of an oxymoron considering what it’s supposed to stand for.
This year, the official event was canceled. Despite this, thousands of people gathered on the playa anyway — with no Bureau of Land Management, no medical teams, no trash fence or road signs. The citizens of Black Rock City really said “screw it,” and in a brilliant stand of radical self-reliance, Renegade Burning Man was born. It was one of the only chances I would have, probably for a long time, to go to the Burn without the crushing weight of purchasing a ticket. So, despite being unbelievably broke, I put some gas and food on my credit card and headed out for a few days.
Although this event certainly felt different from my first time, the wonder and magic of Burning Man was there. Most people I met were mindful of the Ten Principles. Most people looked out for each other. It was how I assumed some of the first Burns were like, with no institutions to police anything. It was just a bunch of well-intentioned, dusty hippies seeking healing in the Black Rock Desert, accepting you just as you are.
And it was beautiful.
The most powerful event of my trip was seeing Olox perform on Burn night. I had no idea who my group was planning to see, but I recognized them as soon as we walked up to their set and let out an audible gasp. Zarina Kopyrina was otherworldly in an incredible display of vocal expertise — mimicking animals and birds, and throat singing at times. As fire spinners flowed with fans across the center stage, I got to witness the meticulous control of a traditional Siberian vocalist, complete with a healing prayer sung acapella. I didn’t have to understand the lyrics to be moved to tears. It was worth all my stress and worry getting out there.
Burning Man is so much more than an organization. It’s a movement, a community and a lifestyle. My biggest takeaway on this second rodeo was the music. It seems like every event I go to now all comes back to that. I believe it’s what fuels us as a species and is our most pure form of communication, expression and creative force. Throughout my nights there, the music of art cars sauntering across the city lulled me to sleep, comforting my busy mind. For a few days, I felt peace.
While adjusting back to the humdrum of society has been a little difficult for me, I will always remember the Renegade Burn as the one I was healed by ancient voices, reconnected with my long-lost family of crazy Nevada locals and introduced to what Burning Man truly is at its core. I will remember this trip for the rest of my life and one day, when I can afford it, I’ll return home again soon.
To listen to Olox, visit their Spotify profile here.
