The bottom is my take on Henry Miller. Last year I finally got down to actually reading him. What I found there blew my mind. I mean there is the sex of course. But what really got me were the deep 2-3 page long descriptions of things. Long passages about his childhood in Williamsburg, Brooklyn with wondrously intense details of the river water at night. The layers of the real I guess you could call it. Henry Miller gives you what is there and what is thought and what is felt and what moves in Heaven all at once in glorious words, words, words. It's a deepness that understandable drives many away. I've visited the place he lived in at Big Sur many times and no matter what I can always catch a hit off of what he was about there. That cabin with his art and the ocean and a few artists hanging around...I wish I was there right now.
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