Reading Dharma Bums again. I come back to it every few years. It settles me. Makes me content with what I am. An ordinary guy, chomp chomp chomping his way. Full of imperfections. Making out he’s something he wished he was, but isn’t. Alone, like with that starry sky and sandy beach. Like Kerouac, I’d rather snuggle on a cold mattress with railroad gloves on than on some pink cushy bed. A little struggle just to make me appreciate this simple life more.
To hear these reflections so many years later gives a sense of understanding in the literature I grew up with that I had only briefly considered before.
I’m 45 and never considered Kerouac until I found myself battling my “need” for a 6 figure salary vs what I really wanted from life. I packed my 3k sq ft house into storage and headed to Mexico 6 months ago with a travel trailer. Simplicity and curiosity can change your life.
You’d be interested to know that the other day I climbed that tiny, insanely steep little hill above the main brown house in mill valley where the little dharma bums cabin once stood, under the eucalyptus tree line separating the woods from the little field. There are concrete columns that once held it up. There are still bits of wood attached to the concrete pillars that once belonged to the cabin. And there is still that trail above that site that connects to all trails throughout main county. I should maybe make a video someday of this
Dharma Bums was so influential in my late high school/early college days in the early 70s. I wanted to be a dharma bum/zen poet so badly. I guess, in many ways, I still am trying to be one ;)
Don't bother about the order. I argue you could learn a lot more about a writer by starting from their last pieces of work, or really anywhere. Not telling you what to do, only that it doesn't matter.
Reading Dharma Bums again. I come back to it every few years. It settles me. Makes me content with what I am. An ordinary guy, chomp chomp chomping his way. Full of imperfections. Making out he’s something he wished he was, but isn’t. Alone, like with that starry sky and sandy beach. Like Kerouac, I’d rather snuggle on a cold mattress with railroad gloves on than on some pink cushy bed. A little struggle just to make me appreciate this simple life more.
Hooray for Gary! Some of us accidental Zen lunatics are still following his footsteps here in Japan
To hear these reflections so many years later gives a sense of understanding in the literature I grew up with that I had only briefly considered before.
I’m 45 and never considered Kerouac until I found myself battling my “need” for a 6 figure salary vs what I really wanted from life. I packed my 3k sq ft house into storage and headed to Mexico 6 months ago with a travel trailer. Simplicity and curiosity can change your life.
You’d be interested to know that the other day I climbed that tiny, insanely steep little hill above the main brown house in mill valley where the little dharma bums cabin once stood, under the eucalyptus tree line separating the woods from the little field. There are concrete columns that once held it up. There are still bits of wood attached to the concrete pillars that once belonged to the cabin.
And there is still that trail above that site that connects to all trails throughout main county. I should maybe make a video someday of this
Holy crap! I instantly knew Peter coyotes voice from the audiobook "the teachings of Don Juan" by Carlos Castaneda.
Dharma Bums was so influential in my late high school/early college days in the early 70s. I wanted to be a dharma bum/zen poet so badly. I guess, in many ways, I still am trying to be one ;)
Just started reading this one. Trying to go in order, but recently learned I skipped Town and the City before On the Road.
Don't bother about the order. I argue you could learn a lot more about a writer by starting from their last pieces of work, or really anywhere. Not telling you what to do, only that it doesn't matter.
🙂🙂🙂
College park and real world intersections.
🌙🕉️🪵🦊. Han Shan.