New Worlds In Woodstock, I sat on the front stoop of one Joseph Trusso of Witch Tree Road drinking water and listened to stories from the diary of Marco Polo on the Silk Road, Iraq and Iran and so long since showing up there one twisted winter afternoon 13 years before, perhaps my first free gesture in this lifetime. In the colonial city of Kingston, down the block from where the New York State legislature met for the first time, wrote horoscopes in the newsroom of my friend Jason's magazines and for two weeks of working days sat amongst the beautiful young ones who publish Chronogram and House...visited with friends from the dawn of time on the Grandmother Land...in New York City, an hour after being introduced to the cosmic literary agent at Book Expo, met my mother in an enormous West Side coffee shop and sat there, looking at her face, and had the missing experience of her overjoyed to see me, tears in her eyes as I left her at the crosstown bus stop and headed up to my hotel...a couple of weeks before, sat in my favorite Italian restaurant and told my father of my adventures and exploits in seven countries the past year, we have the same sense of humor...renewed my passport...bought Carhardts and a Maglite and invested heavily in Grateful Dead CDs at Jack's Rhythms in New Paltz, home of Steve Bergstein...discovered the electrical room door to Gage Hall unlocked yet again...to the north, many long discussions of Chiron in Canada, astrology books writing themselves in mid-air metalogues...new friends and mysteries, a tapestry of understanding and many photographs of faces, mirrors, and eyes of the world...sat at the bar of the eternal sushi chef Fai Mai and continued my education...and was never for a moment far from the light network called Planet Waves... A long trip, but not so strange...