henry miller big sur could be a whisky tumble two toned bird off flight caught by the gust of wind undeterred by streaming gulfs down california, weeks of time spent frustrated in attempt to read this book, meanwhile reading many other things such as pulp and articles of musical content, mystical content, when the book finally finished for i was enthralled shall i say, for it twas after all a good read and to go down on the list of good reads to not read again but to be picked through occasionally for remembrance and quotes, meanwhile meanwhile, well the book is finished and it was written in nineteen fifty five and nineteen fifty six, i've been past multiple times the library in big sur called henry miller, never inside, no, but at least many times been to big sur now and this is a great thing, i will go again soon, and i will camp there and love it with the scent of wonderful campfire and my burnt toast simmering lightly on a cold wooden table, the scent of my heart, been laying there probably since nineteen fifty three, in the same campsite with the old big tree next to it and the stream trickling pretty decently at its roots, this same river contains fish i'm sure and there happens to be a little bridge that crosses over for more campers on their vacations to travel from one side of the river to the next side of the little river, i believe the river is called the big sur river, possibly this is true, and where i camped was alongside it in a nice fashion, as being with two friends and a two person tent, this equaled an issue of not enough tent space, whereas i didn't mind the idea of sleeping in my long station wagon, thus i prepared for the evening and then we called it a night after our wood had been used up by fire and our wine had been drunk and so i slept by the big sur river near the little bridge that crosses the river for the other campers to use for their vacations of further camping, and on this note i say, big sur is wonderful, henry miller discusses this in great detail and brings to point that this is a wonderful place to live, i love big sur, it is so great, and henry miller loved big sur and might still possibly during his mission elsewhere on the spiritual level, now as geography permits for one to understand how wild of a landscape big sur is and for its visitors, just as a dream might say that we love travelling the various forms of level in living virtually dreamlike and statemind thistle and twine, and so big sur takes this for reality thus being hinder to grief and thermal relations of despair beauty and convulsions, minor scrapes and burns may occur from poison oak, branches, rocks, etc. and when we've finally gotten our tours of the roads figured out meaning to not slip up the edge or down the side, we slide like gremlin cuteball and fish ourselves out of the ponds forming at the sides of rivers and streams, one particular nice stream, also perhaps the big sur river but at another location further inland of big sur, is the location of where i once also spent some time for camping alongside, this time with no campfire as stated by the local national park system located in big sur probably with an address like 2565 pacific coast highway, and where you may find boring and slouching guards and rangers filing forms of campers for pointless inquisitions and various tickets given for parking too long or forgetting to pay fines for living the life in big sur like a dreamer can imagine, then on to new subjects that include why must we pay for the land to hike upon, questions questions, well this involves having a vehicle and needing to store it someplace while you take your pretty trips forward in life, hither me among the nice lads and chicks tiptoeing through the thickets and tumbleweeds that haven't seen the road yet, if it's deemed a hot day you will be in for some real hiking, though if it's a nice rainy season or just foggy and cloudlike, then take a break at the local tea shop to grab either coffee or tea and some scone or biscuit, then take your grand entrance to the park and hike on in, this is where i took a twenty four mile hike to camp and sleep by the big sur river, when we decided to find also the local hot springs located against the stream but down quite a ways from our campsite, therefore we must trek through the waters said my friend, we put on our swimming trunks and begun through the coldest waters imaginable, taking care not to step on those little lizard creatures called salamanders wiggling through the bottom of the stream, so many of them and colorful too, we made our way round and found the hot springs, with just one naked man to himself, i lay back in one up higher and away from the man, watching the ducks play in the water, fish swimming by, and birds chirping above me, occasionally one sweeping down giving a squawk, this is the big sur to enjoy and this is a big sur more like kerouac experiences and documents in his book called big sur written almost ten years later to miller's, though seems much more barren and out of the main scene, kerouac seemed to love and hate it in big sur, and went back and forth between san francisco, mostly because of cassady or someone taking him away either from kerouac's wining and pleading for his retrieval, or cassady's need for companion on trips for various stunt reasons, kerouac is constantly busy minded and lost, tending to wine if he had it, or insanity if he ran out, whereas miller lived the calm life of his situation and taking it in with grace, having a wife and children in a quiet reclusive life on the edge of cliff side paradise, kerouac on the edge of streamside mudslide, possibly big sur river, and by this point i realize i have no idea which any river or stream in big sur may be called, as kerouac wound his way down the track near the stream to the beach he be in a disarray of pain and anger if i remember correctly of his book, this is the opposite of what should occur in big sur, and thus he was a demon to enter the beautiful landscape with a mind of a rat shoe full of puss, minding his own business would be false as he interrupted his surrounding big sur and when friends arrived he was a menace to complain and they all fought the bottles and tore through the clean air of big sur, miller was the complete opposite, and seemed to never purchase wine as he states that was a gift to always find its way in his mail, mailman jake to deliver three times a week down the rough old roads, makes a shame to wish it still was like that, but much has changed i'm sure, especially traffic and tourism, and no longer a completely peaceful experience throughout big sur. henry miller's vibe throughout the book is mellow, as the ocean or whales and sweeping air of where he writes, though the same as most his books in tone, this one being ever slightly more as he descends farther into his quiet life in his mid sixties living as a mad man living a calm facade, peeling layers for sections of book like rites of passage, determined to relax with no money, though hard to believe when living in big sur as a well known writer, though should i know what about the different on tones, no, i have yet to read the last of the rosy crucifixion which was the project to span across the writing of this book by miller, simultaneously. as they say his writings are part fiction from his life, it's hard to understand what may be true or not, as his life really comes from possibility here, this book particularly covering the eras of past books he'd written and where they came from in which direction, his writings may all have been true, and for the publishers to state for lawful reasons otherwise, and as many of his books were banned for a time, this could be the real truth. i have never given up on a miller book, though as hard as some come and with the intention of killing by continuation, with breaks in between, i had made this possbile, for this is like dragging a carcass deep through every gas stop along the highway, and pasting the hair with muck, you'd never give up in the middle of a gas station for causing issues, and with miller's books for not completing would turn my life backwards and would feel as if creeping towards grade school once more, tackle the turns! as one time i spent camping in big sur was in the rain, as a cold front was bleaching the sky, and every tree turning on us for the worse, we huddled under the branches of a large one, and carried on, by next evening the storm had grown to high waves crashing against the largest boulders of the sea, we stood among them with winds pushing harder than giving birth, almost too much to hold on, and the view was immaculate, by nightfall we decided to get out and head home, driving round the pouring roads we finally escaped the dangers of big sur, and this the stark differences between beauty, for big sur is just as beautiful come rain or shine, and experiencing both in just two days is for georgie, could never be better. the feeling one gets when entering a long journey, where you won't turn around for any form of weather, and while the clouds roll in and the rain begins can make you start to worry, with only one pair of shoes and a spare set of clothes for three days, though then the sun picks up and moves aside the clouds, where the heat jumps over our heads and starts a sweat, this is all where we find our love of nature, as miller loved the walks through the forest, his mind free and light, uneven ground where our roots formed, breath of air as grand as life itself, this is the great idea of life, and big sur can prove it to ya, the book, the place, the book and the other book, and i'm sure any book can prove, any photograph or story by the characters in a coastside bar, you will eventually if not already feel the beaming glory of big sur, and miller's book does it some good justice by way of dreamer status, so thanks to miller and congrats to the ride.
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