Yup, I’m back from Burning Man. (Barely.) How was it? To quote the old SNL skit, “I loved it, it was much better than Cats. I’m going to see it again and again.” It was my sixth year out there in the wild dusty yonder, and clocked in as one of my very favorites. My week started with a double rainbow as we were waiting to drive in (no joke), I hurt myself laughing with my friends daily, the art was so clever and fabulous, the music was bumpin’, the art cars were inspired, I ate some delicious meals (hello, my amazing campmates made the best duck confit I’ve ever had one night!), I always knew where to find a cold beer, and the people, oh the people. I always return from this event loving humanity even more than I already did—the kindness, talent, humor, creativity, playfulness, responsibility, spirituality, and warmth people show out there is so restorative—it holds me, and keeps me coming back. (So no, it’s not just a big druggy rave, although it can narrowly be that for a few.) And damn, it’s hard enough just to get out there—but many, many people work so unbelievably hard all year to put the event on, build their art, and then take it all down. It’s a staggering amount of effort for a week in the desert, but fortunately it endures much further beyond that.
And so here’s why my life never ceases to crack me up: I am not even home for 48 hours, and I find myself invited to have lunch on Wednesday at Chez Papa Resto with Salvatore Ferragamo’s grandson (ladies, trust me, you’re gonna want to click that link). I was like, huh wah? I’ve been hanging out with people dressed like extras in Mad Max and eating out of a cooler for a week, so let me tell you, it was an especially vivid moment to be enjoying a civilized lunch and taste Ferragamo’s delicious Il Borro and Castiglion del Bosco wines. And, of course, he was wearing one hell of a suit (yup, his eyes matched his tie). Meanwhile, I am certain I still had dust in my hair.
And this week’s bizarre arc continues: I board a plane to go to Champagne and Paris tomorrow! As my friend said to me, I’m traveling from the outer reaches of space to the Seine. Quite. I’ll be back in touch after September 21st (and home just in time for SF Cocktail Week, and the opening of Ragazza on September 22nd!). But in the meantime, you can follow my Frenchie traipsing about on Twitter! Can’t wait. And yes, I am pinching myself for many reasons (including the need to stay awake).
À bientôt!
