I see myself as a huge fiery comet, a shooting star. Everyone stops, points up and gasps “Oh look at that!” Then – whoosh, and I’m gone… and they’ll never see anything like it ever again… and they won’t be able to forget me – ever.
I offer images-I conjure memories of freedom that can still be reached-like the Doors, right? But we can only open the doors-we can’t drag people through.
We are content in the ‘given’ in sensation’s quest. We have been metamorphosised from a mad body dancing on hillsides to a pair of eyes staring in the dark.
Sometimes we worked out in Venice, looking at the surf. We were together a lot and it was good times for all of us. Acid, sun, friends, the ocean, and poetry and music.
Pain is meant to wake us up. People try to hide their pain. But they’re wrong. Pain is something to carry, like a radio. You feel your strength in the experience of pain.
People cluster to TV, soap operas, movies, theater, pop idols and they have wild emotion over symbols. But in the reality of their own lives, they’re emotionally dead.
