1984-2005

In January 1984, snowy New York, I visited an apartment of Allen Ginsberg on 12th St. between 1st and A Ave., where junkies wonder aimlessly, on the verge of Manhattan. As I called out for his name outside of an apartment, a familiar face I’ve seen in pictures all these years appeared from a window. The lionesque hair I’ve seen in those pictures had become little shorter and whiter. Out of the blue he threw the key of the entrance, looking as if he did not care for accustomed greetings.

The room looked almost motionless to me who had just came through roar of the city.
Wearing peaceful expression on his face, Ginsberg picked out a large cup with missing handle and made mint-scented tea for me. His large eyes were impressive.
Peter Orlovsky, who was making late breakfast, handed me his special fried tofu and vegetables seasoned with Shinshu-miso to taste.

Three days later. When I visited him again, sitting in front of piled up paper and poems dedicated to Jack Kerouac and Neal Cassady, Ginsberg stared to talk about his works and Japan. As his burning soul he held on to these years had flooded, his story continued on. After listening for quite a while, Orlovsky, who was sitting in Zen meditation, faced his typewriter all of a sudden.
And handed me writing titled wishing to be a better friend with an air of embarrassment.

I was staggered by their exuberant kindness and intelligence.

In September 2005, from Peshawar to Islamabad, following the long road, crossing many mountain passes and getting across rivers using abandoned tanks as bridges, a carpet carefully weaved by a family from village of Akcha in Afghanistan has arrived to Tokyo Hipsters Club.
“HOLY THE SUPERNATURAL EXTRA BRILLIANT INTELLIGENT KINDNESS OF THE SOUL.”
A quote from Footnote to Howl was woven into the carpet.

The supernatural extra brilliant intelligent kindness of the soul should be hallowed.

October 2005,

Maki Fujimoto
Texts translated by Hanako Karube