….tonight I watched a DVD…"The Life and Times of Allen Ginsberg".  I wept throughout.  His personage…his vision…his depth…his rawness…his holy abandon…his wild deep quiet silent True Nature…has touched me deeply in this life…I can see so many occurences in my becoming that were the result of my admiration for him.  In many ways, I am the man I am today because of his beingness…I went to New York to immulate him..I approached LSD in those early days as a sacrement that he defined…I would never have made it to India without hearing his chants on the harmonium so long ago at the New School in New York.  The photo of me that accompanies this post was taken back in the 70's in Oklahoma where I had gone to heal aftera Hepatitus-A infection…35 years ago…Allen lived down the street from me in Manhattan before I returned to Oklahoma that summer and we were neighbors.  During that healing process in Oklahoma, I wrote a long Spoken Word "Poem" called "Duel:  White Chalk"…the inspiration for that log of words was pure Allen…I am so grateful to have crossed paths with him in this life…there is deep gratitude and affection in my heart for that Dear Soul named Allen…

….I spent most of the 70's out until at least 2 in the morning…7 days a week…I drove a taxi through the five burroughed bellies of New York…that's where I got my college degree…a great learning experience that had it's moments…some of them I would just as soon forget.  I think all those hours on the streets took the Night Owl out of me and by the 80's…I was usually in bed by 9 pm and up at 5:30 everyday…I am still within that time table and it fits.  Richard and I have been in San Miguel now for 10 years or so…when we first got here we got seduced by the heavy duty social scene and the night life…lucky for us…that got old real quick and we surrendered to this home that is continuously in flux.  I guess that I am writing this tonight to clarify for myself that I had the opportunity to go out this evening…Richard is up in San Francisco and I am here at home…alone…but when I got to looking at the possibility of driving into town…looking for parking…going to an art opening or two…driving home in the dark…well…home won out…the old saying that "Home is where the heart is" has some miles…the miles lead home….there is comfort and delight here…I am glad I stayed home…..

…this life is forever in flux…something new…something old…here…now gone…the continuing story that remains plotless but unique and gripping.  I sometimes hang out on the couch after lunch …a great time to immerse myself in creative planning…nothing ever succeeds around here according to plan…the Groove just swallows it all and drums an inaudible beat that promises an eventful ride.  I bow down to this process…whatever it is…it comes and goes…vagueness surrenders to Clarity and then it all disappears and transforms or gets sold or taken apart or collects dust or begs for attention or becomes a fogotten moment or just reappears as something totally different….

…I have decided that I want it all.  The whole Kielbasa will do…then when I am totally satieated…a big exhale and relaxation into nothing…nothing at all…just a window to emptiness and completion…nothing more…nothing less…in the meantime there is an Open Door to the Waiting Room…and all this "dancing to God" is just practical application put to use by a sixty-three year old man who once had a glimpse followed by more glimpses…and I guess that is why…I am still hanging around…..

 

…will never be met.  I find my expectations lead me to a fictional oasis of hope and desire…these expectaions only exist in a menatal universe.  The real magic for me is rooted in Beginners Mind…here everything is radiant and anchored in actual experience.  So all that Doo-Dah from my last post is the result of my expectations not being met.  I hope those who follow my blog realize that I never named the exact location of my failed experience…so there it shall remain.  Case closed…moving on.  And that brings me to the Paisley Cowboy, my dear Muse Jimmy Ray's other monicer.  The Paisley Cowboy and I have been hanging in the creative ethers since way back in the days of the Flea Market in Sausalito…well it seems my friend the Paisley Cowboy is cookin' up some funky adorned things in my studio and they will be on view for the public at large on April One of this year…four years ago on April One…we broke ground for the Chapel of Jimmy Ray….I am going out on a limb, with both the Paisley Cowboy and Jimmy Ray to declare that the Chapel will be officially open next February…stay tuned and without expectation….

…that no matter any way one would observe…I am a dinasour and a bit out of my element.  We were graciously invited to a concert last night in San Miguel by two really nice men from North of the Border who have been visiting for the last two months.  The music event was diminished by the over-sized pretentiousness of the location.  I have to be really honest in saying that because San Miguel has been discovered, we get to witness the doubled edged sword of gentrification.  We are not allowed a sedative in this viewing experience but must be present and view with our dinasour eyes the clumsy carving of a once unique mountain town into a melting denizen of high ceilinged wasted space peopled by recipients of plastic surgery and questionable taste…ahhh…do I sound defeated?  No…just kind of observant of the demystification of a once colonial gem by new moneyed interests from both sides of the border…so…am I and my kind headed for extinctiion?  Yes, all things must pass…and one day, hopefully the Earth will prevail and win back her domain from humanity… and vines will grow through ruins and dinasour bones will point back to the Source of Mystery and Awe…