Following are my thoughts
about "My Poetry"...
The year was 1968.Robert Kennedy was assinated; Richard Nixon was jeered as he attended Martin Luther King, Jr.'s funeral; Andy Warhol received two bullets into his stomach but recovered; Bob Dylan, The Beatles, and Janis Joplin were thriving throughout the world as Hippies indulged in tribal rites in Manhattan. Hair hit Broadway; The Wadsworth Publishing Company published Studying Psychology by C.W. Telford.
" . . . I found an old text book Grandpa wrote in '68 and gave to me. I ended up on the computer for 3 hours typing quotes from his book . . . Allow us to grieve and be grateful . . ."
"I started putting Notes to Myself together in 1969. Gayle and I had been married just four years. We were living in Berkeley, and it was that period when the flower children moved away from Haight-Ashbury to Telegraph Avenue, and lost their way . . . in my spare time, I finished my manuscript and began the seemingly hopeless process of submitting it to publishers . . . Notes to Myself was essentially a stack of yellow sheets (which I call my diary) where I went to sort things out, where I put down my pains and problems, and my very deep longing to break through to some truth."
Since writing Notes to Myself, I guess all I have really been trying to do is just that - live the gentle approach it contains. I hope this little book also echoes the truth of your own path. And please know, I walk with you.
Hugh Prather
May 1989
Santa Cruz, California
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