Writing, Reading, and Listening
I came home last night after the lake and started to read my Aldous Huxley book again. Up until now it's just been a nice little tale about traveling and living properly and who he mingled with. I liked that part because she put a lot of letters that Aldous had written in there and you got to see him for just a simple beautiful consistent person. But, then she sort of skipped over Brave New World and I was kind of pissed. But, she rekindled me last night because WW2 is about to start and Aldous is on a panel for peace and the things he says about war and about love are just simple but unparalled to anything that I have read. A little piece of me fell in love with Aldous last night and vowed to read more that he has written. I think the same will come true of his alter-ego DHL when I go to read about him.
Right now and all day I have been listeing to Highway 61 by Bob Dylan. Highway 61 (the song) is pure joy and silliness and everything Bob Dylan I think wanted to be, but he was just too torn and demented to be that. I think that's what I love about Bob the most. That he is just a kid who is so happy and goofy in some songs but he is tortured in other tunes that you just can't help but feel him and identify with him. Tombstone blues is wondeful in it's weird cryptic way. I just love the part about mama's in a factory without shoes and daddy's lookng for food in the alley. But, Desolation Row takes the cake. It's sad and it's heartfelt and easy to understand. I love Bob because his songs are easy to understand but they can do so much on so many levels. Like, you know you get the message. You can get the message just by the acoustic guitar and harmonica. But then you can find other things in their as well and that makes the song special to each listener. It's like you all share it for it's obviousness but can take something personal away at the same time.
So I wrote some new poems and really did some solid work on my two little theme collections of poetry. Look, I know, they aren't that good and I have no real rudamentary training in writing poetry. But, some of them I try to do nifty things with and they almost work. I read them and I can see the image I tried to paint and that sort of makes me happy. I think the only person who ever liked my poems was Mirel. That's sort of...sad but I think I am getting better. I would like to know what other people think but maybe they are afraid that they will hurt my feelings or whatever. Let me make this clear for those of you out there, when you ask me something I give it to you straight and cold. I do this because I expect the same. Though it may hurt, it always helps. Just like that bi-polar comment. Anyway...I don't expect anyone to read them and actually I just sort of write them for myself. I don't think I would understand them if I hadn't written them, and I would probably think they were just horse shit, like the feeling I get when reading Kerouac or Wordsworth.
