I have entered a place where...there is light - perhaps a bit of happiness, the absence of fear, a letting go of the desire for... anything. I left the states six months ago, six short months, and I have become something - richer for having given things up, illuminated for having entered a mysterious, dark dream. Without wanting it, yet joyful to experience it - smiles, love, happiness arrive. People speaking words which enter my consciousness like darts hitting a target - Angels, Doorways, Passages. I am passing into something - good or evil, light or dark, I won't choose, I will accept the outcome with open eyes and a tender heart...
Went in search of a guitar today. Walked 1 mile to the Amazon Trail and across the road a man named Phil lives in a small apartment. I knock, he opens. He is a large man with a soft demeanor. I sit on his sofa, picking up the guitar, a cheap strat, but a good color (black). The amp a 15w Fender. I plug in, happy to be holding a guitar in my hands. I strum a few chords and when I slide up the board to play a few blue notes I hear Phil say "wow, nice." He is impressed with my play, even though I am not doing much. I realize at that moment that I have reached a level which is not easily accessible. While I am far from being a competent musician, my confidence holding the instrument, the ease with which my fingers move along the frets, and the occasional sweet blue sound of the strings is something which I could not have achieved without a lot of practice, and I am guessing it is the same for others.
Being in a twilight state of being, events continue to unfold in a quasi-religious drama. Phil questions me about my practice, how I have achieved certain things. I begin to explain and soon realize it sounds like a lesson. I stop myself and decide to buy the guitar. We continue to talk and then Phil offers me a ride to the local music store. Since I want to buy an input cord for the amp, and a set of strings, I accept his friendly offer. As we ride across town I learn a few things about Phil. He is 28 years old, has a son, is divorced. Works at a hospital and goes to seminary school. He plays guitar, mainly strumming, and sold his electric to me because he could not connect with it. He once played triple A baseball, but an injury stopped him from making it to the majors. He has lived in Eugene most of his life, and he loves it - "it rains all the time, but we joke that it is our sun." At the music shop I chat with a female clerk who tells me she once lived in Vegas, and recently moved to Eugene and loves it. The shop sells the input cords but they are out of stock, so I compensate by buying a package of blues strings. Phil buys a set of drum kits for his son. On the way home we agree it would be fun to jam together, and when he drops me at KC's he tells me to call him anytime.
Settling in with the guitar - I study the amp, tune the strings, and do an hour set of blues songs. Holding it, getting the fingers going, creating music - it contains a similar quality to running - sound creating a landscape to move through, thoughts and emotions and blood flowing - angels, doorways, passages hovering, waiting for me, to finally... walk in.
"Thinking of the stars night after night I begin to realize 'The stars are words' and all innumerable worlds in the Milky Way are words, and so is this world too. And I realize that no matter where I am, whether in this little room full of thought, or in this endless universe of stars and mountains, it's all in my mind. There's no need for solitude. So love life for what it is, and form no preconceptions whatever in your mind." - Jack Kerouac from Lonesome Traveler
