When You're Invisible, No One

Growing Up, I'd Already Decided I Wanted To Be A Beatnik. A Bohemian Poet, I Thought. Or A Musician. Maybe An Artist. I'd Dress In Black Turtlenecks And Smoke Gitanes. I'd Listen To Cool Jazz In Clubs, Getting Up To Read Devastating Truths From My Notebook, Leaning Against The Microphone, Cigarette Dangling From My Hand.

Living On The Street As A Kid Changed The Way I Looked At Everything. It Was A Different Time And While It Had Its Dangers, It Was Nothing Like It Would Be Today. It Was The Summer Of Love And There Was A Real Sense Of Community Among Us. We Were Hippies Who Looked Out For Each Other Instead Of Trying To Rip Each Other Off. We Only Had To Watch Out For The Police Who Liked To Roust Us Just On General Principles, And The Kids Who Came In From The Suburbs To Do A Little Hippie-bashing.

Lies Were Like Having A Pregnant Rabbit. One Day You Had One, But Before You Knew It, There Were Rabbits All Over The Place.

You Wouldn't Want Any Creative Process To Lose Its Sense Of Fun And Adventure, But That Doesn't Mean You Can't Take It Seriously As Well.

It Is So Easy For Your People To Forget That Everything Has A Spirit, That All Are Equal. That Magic And Mystery Are A Part Of Your Lives, Not Something To Store Away In A Child's Bedroom, Or To Use As An Escape From Your Lives.