You don't want to go to Burning Man, but you dig the art. This book might be for you.

Burning Man is where, for 7 days between the last Monday in August and the first Monday in September, grown-ups of a certain persuasion can go to make a playground that subverts the usual grown-up rules. Where they can reinvent themselves for a week in a temporary city in the desert. Where gusts of hybrid spirituality, outsider art, collective exhibitionism and partying all converge. Or maybe it's a place where you can walk around in pink fuzzy dice underwear and no one judges. It seems to be the kind of place that's open to suggestion.

But there are rules.

Not much in the way of prohibition. More like "We welcome and respect the stranger" and "Immediate experience is the most important touchstone of value in our culture." There used to be rules against commodifying (ie; selling) images or content that comes out of Burning Man, but it seems the so-called "private community on public land" is capitulating to the demands of the outside world. Burning Man's fleeting population reached a peak last year of 69,613 participants, but it's also sold out the last few years. There's a finite amount of people who can or want to come and play each year (it begins this coming Monday, Aug. 25). But there are, apparently, many who just want to see photographs and video and hear stories.

So here is an offering delivered unto the outside world, a book, called Burning Man: Art on Fire. It's annotated by Jennifer Raiser and photographed by Sidney Erthal and Scott London, published by Race Point Publishing (with an introduction by Burning Man founder Larry Harvey) of fantastical, playful, interactive and giant art. The sumptuous, colorful photos are interspersed with Raiser's narratives about their making and their makers, and quotes from Picasso, Nietzsche, Rumi, Thoreau and others.

The slideshow flips through to some of the pages of the book, which can be purchased on Amazon.