Woke up to a cloudy, misty August morning here in Missouri … looking out my office window at 4 AM … getting a deja vu of a similar early Spring morning back in SO CAL when I was a teenager reading an Alan Watts book while sitting in front of the glass doors that opened out onto the patio where the parties in my book THE MUSE took place. You might say that the mid-1960’s was when my spiritual journey began. I didn’t just read art books, I poured through all of the popular philosophy books of that age as well. Alan Watts was just one of the characters I checked out back then; not as much as some of the others, though. Kierkegaard was big to me, so were Camus, Kerouac, Merton and Sartre. I also read Lao Tzu, Confucius, and about a ton of other “hip, in and groovy” pop-mystics of the time. I’m not sure what triggered this morning’s little Oriental moment. Perhaps it was the mist itself reminding me of the Guo Hua, the traditional Chinese ink and water paintings that seemed to be the favorite subjects for the covers of many of the books I read back then. Or maybe it was just some genetic “memory of a moment” that popped into my head just for the heck of it. Regardless, it was a very pleasant little feeling that will no doubt revisit me throughout this day.
The 60s
Short essays inspired by reminiscences of life and experience in the mid to late 1960s.
My First Meeting of a REAL Artist
“It was in The Pit nearly two weeks ago that I met Frank Reed; the big, fantastic artist that I had seen walking around campus in faded blue jeans and matching jacket, looking as if he owned the world, because he knew that we knew that he had an Art Show somewhere in Europe. And he was right. We were all impressed with his swagger. We were impressed with everything about him, I more than anyone. I knew there was something more to this man than even what he was attempting to portray. I knew there was a depth to him, and that he had the Kunstwollen—the driving force of the Art Spirit—hanging like a halo around his head.”
From The Muse: Coming of age in 1968, page 4.
RAKU: More Than Just a Pot
A piece of raku ware is more than just a piece of pottery. The pottery classes at Riverside City College in 1968 included (and probably still do) instruction in the making and firing of raku pottery. The pieces produced by each student accumulated over a period of time, and were carefully set aside. When the pieces were judged ready to be subjected to the rigors of the kiln, the focus shifted from individual effort to communal celebration. A raku “firing” is a relatively short process, and one in which the artist is much more actively engaged than for other forms of pottery. The setting is almost like that of a bonfire, and like a bonfire, the atmosphere is both mystical and festive. It becomes the occasion of a party.
Raku: what goes into the pot
I remember a Raku party we art students once had at Riverside City College back in 1968. I made four pots. Two pots blew up in the kiln … two made it out. One really nice orange pot made it. It was fun. I loved going to the RCC art dept. at night. There was an atmosphere about it that I can’t explain. Very romantic … especially on warm nights. Always some students hanging out … firing pots … mixing clay … cleaning up the kilns and the pour spaces. Usually someone brought in a gallon of wine … almost always Red Mountain. There was a lot of laughter, and a lot of chit chat. The warmth of the night air mixed with the heat coming from the kiln. Made us all sweat and glisten in the outdoor lights. Kind of surreal really. Sort of a Mardi Gras atmosphere only with “products” being turned out on the side. Pots and sculptures that would sit on art students pine board and brick bookcases … looking really cool … serving no useful purpose … gathering dust … up to this very day.
The Spirit of the 1960s
The spirit of the 1960s continues to have a hold on our imagination. The youth and younger adults of today tend to romanticize it, and those of us who actually lived it often view it through the rosy lens of nostalgia. I suppose it is no different in that respect than any other past era.
Hippies, the anti-war movement, free love, the music, the drugs—those are just a few of the things that stand out as characteristic of the time and, depending on your point of view, represent some of the best and worst of the era. They do not, however, reflect a uniform experience or awareness of the people at the time. For instance, Woodstock was monumental at the time, but unless you were on the East Coast, you probably didn’t even hear about it until after the fact.
The TRUE Spirit of the 1960s
The 60’s were, indeed, a romantic time of experimentation and discovery, but the REAL and TRUE spirit of the 60’s is not to be found in the lives of rock stars, or in peaceful protests disrupted by violent agitators courting the ever more intrusive media. The REAL ROMANCE was found in the everyday lives of those who were simply and peacefully LIVING in an era that was generating an energy frequency different from any that had ever come before.
Some chose to distort that creative energy into the darker things that made up the bulk of the news of the day, while others quietly joined with the energy and rode along for a few years for their own personal journey of exploration and discovery.
I was one of these explorers, and The Muse is my story, going beyond the stereotype of the time to convey something of the nature of the romantic and creative energy that shaped my life.