tHuRsDaY dEcEmBeR 4, 1997
only got 4 hours of sleep last night. too many papers to write.
finals will be over soon
then i can return to real life.
saw patti smith with ursie at the trocadero in philly.
wild scene. so much love; so much life...
where do i fit in?
"i don't really know what you said,
but i appreciate the energy."
i feel energized by patti's poetry.
her sexuality flaunted around the stage.
androgenous behavior......i think.
how can so many diverse people all relate to one women?
free spirit, free woman, free love?
"i keep trying to figure out what it means/to be american,"
writes patti smith in the poem
"when i look in myself/ I see arabia, venus, nineteenth century/french
but i can't
recognise what/makes me american."
eventually she decides being american is "nothing material.
maybe it's just being free."
--from "patti smith and richard hell: two punks don't make a summer," New
Statesman, July 5,1996
links to patti :
sunday august 30, 1998
i drove down to swat from maine. traffic makes my head spin. all those sports utility vehicles speeding in and out of the four lane highways. where do all these cars come from? why such excess? upon my arrival to swat, i cruised immediately to sam and corey's apartment. apollo, sam's dog, was there to greet me as well. my sensations are maxed-out. filled with familiar smells, sights, sounds, and yet all so different from maine. we frolicked around campus this evening- observing the innocence of the newly arrived frosh. over-stimulation makes me restless, and sleeping didn't come naturally...... another year at swat lies ahead.
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