While sitting in my hovel, amidst the clutter of letters and transcripts in my study, which is also my bedroom, not to mention thinking space and listening area, I happened across a bauble of a blurb upon a page much ancient when compared with its companions, yet quite infant when considering how long it was before my mind and pen formed the statement.
"Longnecker Garden"
This was a puzzling line indeed. What, of all that I was thinking in those rapid days, could coalesce in those two words? Believe me, it was a long time that I took to shuffle around the dips and curves of my mind, searching for a little trigger, a connection, anything to bring me close to an answer.
Was it a title? and what for? a song or play or flickerer or poem or none even of these? Finally I pulled myself to grips with an answer unavoidable, that this person who penned this dream was one whose mind I could never know again.
On Xmas of 1992 my brother gave me this journal made of recycled paper with a twig pencil. I eventually filled it up sporadically up to 1995. I dug it out, dusted it off, and started looking through it today, May 6th, 2013. I've decided to reproduce the posts online. It's raw and sure to be embarrassing, but I feel enough time has passed that I can distance myself, yet find a very familiar me within these lines and perhaps find the inspiration to take up the pen again..... Thanks, big Bro.
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