The young lady in this picture looks suspiciously like the lady I met and wrote about on 4-20. You can see me in the lower left corner. I shot this today.

Dear Moe and All:
Setting here listening to your Stella Brooks album sounds tough and good. Old timey sound of the backs her up “Little Piece of Leather” is onery, delightful and rough. “Gin’s gonna kill but they don’t say when.” I’m not specially convinced that “I’ll never be the same” gets out of the parlor. On the cover I’ve always thought that the Grateful Dead should be sponsored by the government. It should be a public service that they should set us up to play at places that need good music. We shouldn’t be a business per se. That’s the direction I’m convinced we should be heading. An artistic movement, albeit an organic and as-yet-unstated one is forming. What are its key components? A deliberate unartiness. Three days of world music. Jimmy Ciff. The Dennis Bovell Duo. The Twinkle Brothers. City Hall. “Raw” material. seemingly unprocessed, unfilterered, uncensored, and unprofessional. Randomness, oedipal accident and serendipity, spontaneity; artistic risk; emotional urgency and intensity, reader/viewer participation; an overtly literal tone, as if a reporter were viewing a strange culture; plasticity of form, pointillism; criticism as autobiography; self-reflexivity, self-ethnography, anthropological autobiography; a blurring to the point of invisibility of any distinction between fiction and nonfiction: the lure and blur of the real 3.