I have been reading Kerouac. I haven't spent time with his work since I read On The Road back in '83 while I did my laundry in Grand Rapids. That book at that time was like getting hit by lighting. I have always been a little afraid of Kerouac and his friends because of the wild abandon it could possibly send off in me. Maybe at 48 I feel like my life has enough ballast to handle some crazy beatnik energy, some transcendence, some hard hitting all of life embracing, full tilt going at it.
I got a CD of current actors and artists and writers reading his poetry with music and various sound textures underneath. I love this CD and the way the words and images come alive along with the layers of sound working with it.