Saw a great documentary the other night: "Festival: Newport Folk Festival 1963-1965." I sat in those folding chairs myself back then, but it was for the jazz edition. The folk and blues artists were insanely pure, from the heart, and the protests against war and prejudice genuine. I know that I caught a strong positive tailwind from those folkies in my teens - despite myself. The film had clips of performances, and the most poignant for me was Dylan doing "Mr. Tambourine Man." This guy, this poet, in his early 20's, is giving voice to incredibly profound stuff about death. And acceptance and enlightenment - blew me away. Whoever has the cutting-room floor film of "Festival" has real treasure. I hope it's in the Library of Congress for future generations to draw hope from, and quickly. Already from this distance in time a lot of that populist stuff might seem phony through the intervening years of irony and cynicism. It wasn't.
"My senses have been stripped..." Dylan
"There are no senses to grasp..." Keizan
Where I am has nothing to do with enlightenment or its absence. Where I am is more like emptiness, but without judgement or qualification, which of course is impossible if I am to call it anything. So my mother was correct: I am impossible.
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