tunement. We get so caught up in our lives, what alls outsideour immediate concerns is rozen. We are to a large degreeclosed.The driver had a copilot who talked loudly through therst our hours, then mysteriously quieted. What a talent! Icouldn’t do a quarter o it I I were allowed dead air, driting of into incomprehensible musings, and looming silences asvast as mount Fuji. There was all sorts o inormation passed back and orth, a east o data: various meals at whatever ho-tels, the strong winds on certain highways; the hazards o theunions, trades; nitric acid and the soil o Humboldt county. Ater a very strange and inexplicable silence, which must’ve been a eeding, he launched into another amazing monologuethat put me to sleep.Berkeley’s weather showed little regard or my plans, butturned rom a dim, bleak, heaviness to patches o sunlight. Thedays passed quickly. I enjoyed the time with Kye Soen and her wonderul children. She had a new daughter since The ZenRevolution, now 18–months old. How immaculate the humanmind in its essence, how sweet and pure. Though too young tospeak, she would go to other crying children to comort them,hug them; a hand to the ace. I spent a lot o time with her,holding her, playing music or her, watching TV, visiting theplayground, having meals together. What a delight! She likesall kinds o music, but gets bored with too much atmosphere.Though she appreciates classical music, she preers a good beat:
Black Sabbath, Aphex Twin, The Cure
— we went throughit all.I loved the time with them, but had to return to Los Anglesto produce this show, and other projects. I was both sad to goand thankul to Kye Soen or allowing me to adopt her amily,that I’ve had these kinds o experiences. The little ones have alot to teach, our origin, how our paths appear beore us — andthere isn’t anything as beautiul as an Asian child.