Out on the playa it's common practice to adopt a new name for the week. The thought is to cast aside what ties you to the outside world, or "reality camp," and allow yourself the freedom to be your truest self while at Burning Man. It sounds a little hippie, but it's also nice to consider that you don't have to go by the name with which you were born. Lord knows I've spent most of my life wanting a do-over in that category. Some names are gifted while others choose to rename their own selves.
A few weeks before we left, A. and I gifted each other new names. I named him Kinsey, after the famous researcher of human sexuality, and he called me Quill because of my writerly abilities and the prickly mascot of my stationery company Porcupine Hugs. Granted I only gave out my playa name a few times - though I'm sure people thought Dorkys was my made-up moniker - but it was fun to toy with the idea of being a different persona out there.
If you could choose a new name what would it be? A., named after two princes, grew up wishing he was Tom and I figured if I became famous under a stage name, the tabloids would have a field day if my original name was ever exposed.