letters to the editor
Hey, Stonecutter, you may remember me, I got into kind of a hassle with you at the Milkweg in Amsterdam, 1977, it was a Herbie Hancock/Jorma Kaukonen show, and you sat on the blanket I’d laid to save my spot, I came back from scoring some righteous Nepalese Temple Ball, was ready to fly, and I had to deal with you, but you convinced me that scarcity is an illusion, and we shared my blanket and Temple Ball, and I turned you onto the Sleep-in, and I recall you crashed there for several weeks until they figured out you stayed way past the three day limit.
Anyhoo, I still dig the earthen pottery, it’s the best, wondering if you still fire up, I know a lot of folks gave it up in the 90’s, a lot of the good ones, but I’m still keeping the faith, filling the soul with strong, multicolor vibes that shine through my smile in the park.Rock on, see you on the other side,
As almost any sensible Milkweg ’77 attendant knew, blankets were communal and up for grabs. You were the bummer, my man. It was a post-private property gathering from its inception, largely funded and promoted by the Dutch Communist Party. Only a total dumbass would freak about about a blanket, bro.
To answer your other question, yes I am still active in the earthen pottery community. I teach a class on porcelein three times a week in an abandoned 19th century toilet factory in upstate New York. Stop in if you’d like to patch things up. Yours,
All blessings and light to you, as we enter the time of change.I know the gold within you, as well as the acrid mercury accompanying its extraction.
I am your sister.
I will hold a space for you, a space of emptiness, and you will abide. Sister Hannah Of The Sky
Dear Sister Hannah,
I remember you so fondly. We sat by the fire in the Sedona and you sang Kris Kristofferson’s “Help Me Make It Through The Night.” Well not only did you help me through the night you helped me through my four long years in Arizona. I’ll never return, as I’m sure you know but to you my spirit shall return always.
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