An Authentic Life 1.1 for pdf - Universalist Radha-Krishnaism

As the new year began, we went to Wes Wilson’s pad.
Wes was an artist who did psychedelic posters for
rock concerts. Wes and his wife were Lydia’s friends.
They let us spend the night in the living room. We
made love there. With her pleasant face, full body and
long brown hair, Lydia looked beautiful like one of
Rubens’ voluptuous nudes.
Lydia was a social worker in Sacramento. We
drove there in her MG sports car to spend a few days
together. She played the piano and recorder. We listened
to Bach harpsichord fugues on the stereo. We
fell in love, and I wanted her to move to San Francisco
with me. She didn’t want to give up her job, and I
didn’t want to give up the San Francisco scene. We
spent weekends together.
One weekend in January 1966, when she came
to Frisco to visit me, we were going to the Trips Festival
put on by Ken Kesey and the Merry Pranksters at
the Longshoreman’s Hall. In the afternoon while
shopping on Haight Street, we stopped at a shop that
sold hand crafted leather and ear rings. There we met
Carolyn who ran the shop with her husband Richard.
They were also going to the Trips Festival, and we decided
to go together. This was a psychedelic extravaganza
with acid punch, Andy Warhol, and the Velvet
Underground. Since Carolyn and Richard’s shop was
only a couple of blocks from my room, I visited them
regularly, and we became friends. We were all from
New York.
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