Big Sur
When I first moved to Big Sur in 1967, I spent a lot of time at Nepenthe, usually sleeping on the floor of Archie Lee Jone's (then the manager) room as I was gradually absorbed and enriched by the mystery of my magic new home. One of my first friends was Jane Millitich and she lived in one of the funky little "houses" scattered in the oak woods behind the restaurant. I think it was called the plastic house because it had a plastic roof. In Jane's hands it was a space of total loving beauty. I always loved her. We were, are and shall ever be the closest of Being Friends. £
On the road through Monterey ~ I’ve got the top down ~ sunscreen on ~ listening to Goo Goo Dolls, Hendrix and Petty ~ passing fields of artichoke and brussel sprouts ~ passing hidden surf spots. In Big Sur ~ on a twisted road ~ high above the ocean ~ sunlight shines through the pines ~ the Dead play rambling tunes ~ that flow like the scenery ~ changing around every turn ~ I arrive at Esalen ~ passing through a redwood portal ~ and follow a path leading down to the baths ~ Chloe greets me there ~ takes me up to the solarium ~ and gives me a massage that turns my body into jello ~ when she asks how I’m doing ~ I try to speak ~ but haven’t stopped drooling.