January 30, 2014

January 30, 2014

Written by Maximus Peperkamp, M.S. Verbal Behaviorist

Dear Reader, 

 

This letter type is called “Freestyle Script.” Coincidence has it that yesterday night this writer watched a documentary about hippies. It showed various European individuals who a long time ago travelled to India and had stayed there. Because the culture fit with their hippie behavior these individuals preferred to live in India. Each in their own way had looked for freedom, but what they had found was a place to stay where their behavior repertoire was allowing them to get by. One was a Dutch painter whose first wife died a couple of years ago. As he spoke of her you could tell he was still mourning her death. He remarried to a young girl that was offered to him by her mother. Although he loved his new wife and had more kids, he was sad, but this sadness also seemed to be playing a role in his incessant attempt to capture in his paintings the beauty of the land that he lived in. Recently, a friend of this writer, herself also a painter, explained to him that artists sort of go voluntarily insane. It is interesting to think about this and about other artists who live unhappy lives, but who nevertheless produce their works, which are products of suffering.. It is almost seems like a social norm for artist to be unhappy and to not find happiness.

Another character came from Switzerland. He argued with his wife in a nasty manner and complained about the Europeans youngsters who came to his place to party. He was a creepy character. Particularly sad was the story of his Indian wife, who, by marrying him, was ostracized from her family and her village. She expressed hopes of one day immigrating to Switzerland and was in fact applying for a visa. She was obviously not very fond of her husband, who had caused her so much grief. Nevertheless this ex-junkie build an entire house, a farm of sorts, with many rooms, but it looked as if it would never get finished. From how the relationship was, it sounded like these rooms would never be inhabited by them. He constantly talked about his father, who, on the one hand, he demonized, because he was such a wealthy, powerful man, but who, on the other hand, financially supported him. His wife made cynical remarks and showed openly her emotions about her need for a change of environment. 

There was also an Italian guy, who lived in a cave, an ashram of sorts, with a bunch of other sadhus of whom he seemed to be the leader. He was seen constantly smoking hashies in a pipe. He lived a regimented life that was full of rituals and mantras and his demeanor seemed totally integrated with the Indian culture. He was seen blessing many  children and his income derived from the European seekers that came to his residence. He stated that he went back to Italy one day and that all there was to do for him was to go and find a job, but he went back to India to seek self-realization. It did not seem to matter to him anymore whether he found or not, he was getting old.