mahak
From the 'List of Essentials' Kerouac 1954 TIP #16
'Work from Pithy
middle-eye out, from the jewel center of interest, swimming in language sea'
Am reading ‘BigSkyMind’ Buddhism and the Beat Generation.
MJH, JC, am remembering our evening of reading Beat poetry. What a great night! Come to Mexico, lets sit on our roof on a warm sunset eve, drink cerveza and compose spontaneous poems! MJH, you are an inspiration.
Also be sure to check out the side bar link (TobyRogers) there you’ll see the reflections of a meditation retreat ctr dropout.
By the way this image is a montage: detail of tattoo on my leg (Mahakala) and photograph of a cross bearer during SemanaSanta.
Finally, here's a Passage from Kerouacs Dharma Bums: “After they’d gone to bed I put on my jacket and my earmuff cap and railroad gloves and over all that my nylon poncho and strode out in the cottonfield moonlight like a shoudy monk. The ground was covered with moonlight frost. The old cemetery down the road gleamed in the frost. The roofs of nearby farmhouses were like white panels of snow. I went through the cottonfield rows followed by Bob, a big bird dog, and little Sandy who belonged to the Joyners down the road, and a few other stray dogs (all dogs love me) and came to the edge of the forest. In there, the previous spring, I’d worn out a little path going to meditate under a favorite baby pine. The path was still there. My official entrance to the forest was still there, this being two evenly spaced young pines making kind of gate posts. I always bowed there and clasped my hands and thanked Avakokitesvara for the privilege of the wood. Then I went in, led moonwhite Bob direct to my pine, where my old bed of straw was still at the foot of the tree. I arranged my cape and legs and sat to meditate. The dogs meditated on their paws. We were all absolutely quiet. The entire moony countryside was frosty silent, not even a little tick of rabbits or coons anywhere. An absolute cold blessed silence.”
'Work from Pithy
middle-eye out, from the jewel center of interest, swimming in language sea'
Am reading ‘BigSkyMind’ Buddhism and the Beat Generation.
MJH, JC, am remembering our evening of reading Beat poetry. What a great night! Come to Mexico, lets sit on our roof on a warm sunset eve, drink cerveza and compose spontaneous poems! MJH, you are an inspiration.
Also be sure to check out the side bar link (TobyRogers) there you’ll see the reflections of a meditation retreat ctr dropout.
By the way this image is a montage: detail of tattoo on my leg (Mahakala) and photograph of a cross bearer during SemanaSanta.
Finally, here's a Passage from Kerouacs Dharma Bums: “After they’d gone to bed I put on my jacket and my earmuff cap and railroad gloves and over all that my nylon poncho and strode out in the cottonfield moonlight like a shoudy monk. The ground was covered with moonlight frost. The old cemetery down the road gleamed in the frost. The roofs of nearby farmhouses were like white panels of snow. I went through the cottonfield rows followed by Bob, a big bird dog, and little Sandy who belonged to the Joyners down the road, and a few other stray dogs (all dogs love me) and came to the edge of the forest. In there, the previous spring, I’d worn out a little path going to meditate under a favorite baby pine. The path was still there. My official entrance to the forest was still there, this being two evenly spaced young pines making kind of gate posts. I always bowed there and clasped my hands and thanked Avakokitesvara for the privilege of the wood. Then I went in, led moonwhite Bob direct to my pine, where my old bed of straw was still at the foot of the tree. I arranged my cape and legs and sat to meditate. The dogs meditated on their paws. We were all absolutely quiet. The entire moony countryside was frosty silent, not even a little tick of rabbits or coons anywhere. An absolute cold blessed silence.”
posted by mufflevski at 5/25/2005
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