The aim of life is to live, and to live means to be aware, joyously, drunkenly, serenely, divinely aware- Henry Miller
On a recent trip to Northern California, we made the pilgrimage down Highway 1, past the redwoods and spectacular coastline, into Big Sur. There we paid homage to one of America's great authors.
Coming around a tree-shaded bend south of the famous Nepenthes, where a stop for cocktails and view are mandatory, we happened upon the Henry Miller Memorial Library. While we were stopped from borrowing a book (it says library on the sign), there is much to honor here at the Memorial.
Henry was a real man. He loved life. He loved women, marrying five of them and sleeping with many more. After growing up in Brooklyn, he traveled to Europe before it was the thing to do. He was a writer, a tailor, a cowboy, a professional bike racer, a painter, a speak-easy owner, a cab driver, a ringleader of naked ping pong tournaments, and a teller of great stories. In short, he was a dreamer, a true creative, who never held a career but held many jobs to support his dream.
He definitely lived the good life. Famously, his accounts of life in Paris in his novels Tropic of Cancer and Tropic of Capricorn so graphically portrayed his bedroom antics, that they were banned in these United States for over 30 years. His legacy -he fought the censorship and paved the way for modern artistic freedom for modern artist, writers, and dreamer.
Henry Miller was cool.