Four days of fun, fire and dust.
The night sky lights up with lasers shining around the sculpture named Reflection at AfrikaBurn in the Tankwa Karoo National Park, Northern Cape, South Africa, May 3, 2013. Every night during the six day festival, Reflection was transformed into a dance floor. © Mia van der Merwe
Yes, moments of transcendence and glimpses of the divine are real. But their rarity is their significance. Life is grounded in the mundane. But the mundane has a bad rap. The word simply means “world”; its origins are shared with the same root word for “mountain.” On the other hand, the world of ideals—meaning “forms” in the language of that premiere idealist, Plato—is up there, out there, somewhere. The world of the mundane is here and now and is not to be rejected but to be loved. Just as people are to be loved for who they are, imperfections and all, not the versions of them we make in our own image.From Booked: Literature In The Soul Of Me by Karen Swallow Prior, reviewed by Chidsey Dickson at The Rumpus. (via therumpus)