Nancy was an artist above all else. Her father, the New Jersey eye surgeon, who was also my father, was mostly about science rather than art. But life for Nancy was more energetic than cellular. Art dissembled her logical fallacies Read More …
Which way the wind blows is sometimes hard to tell. This might have been an apt epitaph to describe Jimi’s death in 1970, and perhaps elements of his life of 27 years. The cause of his death is uncertain. Eric Read More …
Helped by this blog, an old friend of Nancy’s surfaced. Her name is Amanda Trees, and she’s a musician, living in Brooklyn, N.Y. It wasn’t this blog that Amanda first found, but rather a blog she once used to, of Read More …
After she was gone (but not long after), our knowledge and understanding of Nancy as a person blossomed. What had been sheer mystery, obfuscated even more by the fog of denial, lifted little by little over time, layer by layer, Read More …
Come gather ’round peopleWherever you roamAnd admit that the watersAround you have grownAnd accept it that soonYou’ll be drenched to the bone.If your time to youIs worth savin’Then you better start swimmin’Or you’ll sink like a stoneFor the times they Read More …
In the last post, I attempted to say something meaningful about “tribalism” in the world today. I thought my comments were echoed in Nancy’s reaction to the Charlie Manson phenomenon decades earlier. At any time in history, people’s allegiances, following Read More …
What does it actually mean to be free? Does it mean we can say whatever we want to say to others, however harmful obnoxious or painful our speech may be? Today conservatives have weaponized free speech, as a recent article Read More …
Not known for his inflated ego, Jimi Hendrix, paratrooper turned guitarist extraordinaire, preferred keeping it real, and always enjoyed coming down to earth. Thank God they put me in a decent hotel this time,” Jimi said. He was emptying ashtrays Read More …
Imagination is a life force not unlike procreation. It’s hard not to recognize (see The Background Story) how adept Nancy was at contrasting incompatibles and producing novelties in her writing, in her artwork, and in her life. It was a Read More …
Jimi’s sexual encounters with anonymous groupies may have made Nancy see (and hear) red (see Groupies), but green was the color of sexual intimacy for her. Jimi Hendrix, however, was never a solid color for Nancy. Nor was he an Read More …