Paul Sharits (1943-1993)

Athens 2

…her grand hospitality and sincere friendship. Tomorrow we’ll go to Hydra, where we met 2 years ago, about this very time of August—in NYC, getting out of a cab at 420 W. Bdway, to see movies brilliant “mirror-frame” piece we met again, as she has a place “with” her (almost) e-husband in NYC—must have been spring—she was sad—I took her to Lincoln Center to cheer her up with the NYC ballet and dinner [it was her birthday or near-abouts, as we say in Denver and Indiana, Ohio and who knows where else?]. Sculpts in clay forms, alluding to female genitalia—terrific woman, although a bit motherly towards me (which is not good for me, although I gladly always accept it—but it only feels good for a couple of days and then I’m bored and want to resume my truer selfhood).

Marie, lush blonde blonde blonde blonde German woman met through Harry Ruhe (what a drunk-stones HUXUS party! after my private screening at Barbara Meter’s place—good feminist but a little extreme and lacking a strong-plausible program—very very nice person tho). Love making her made me feel like a kind sort of satanic nut, she always meeting, a Wagner angel, a Griffith virgin (such deep places inside her head, always so innocently gazing thru the lite blue lenses of her optical system—I almost cried at times, it was so… Botticelli-esque! ...or, better, Fragonard—constantly in each other’s arms, unable to stop moving our mouths against each other’s. I became frightened with depth of my feelings, knowing it would work out (why have so many Gemini women started coming into my life). Ah, here is the