Fractal

A poet and artist in the Burning Man community died of cancer last month. His name was Fractal. A woman who knew him organized a response: a shoot with photographer Cherry Vega, prints for sale at twenty-five dollars, money to a cancer research center. Just the practical thing to do.

What I liked about it was the complete lack of performance. No moral framework, no meditation on mortality or the body or what it all means. Just: someone we cared about is gone, here’s the money we can make. In that community, nudity and sincerity aren’t in conflict—they just coexist. The form of the fundraiser wasn’t the statement. The statement was the money.