Bitches Brew

 

More background: important, for Mary Evelyn Harju, and for those who might wish to know her, to understand her teenage years, in Media and at PennCrest. Mary, in those years, lived her life on the wild side of things, and chose to swing around a lifestyle that you might call pharmaceutically advantaged. This, I have documented in P.F.S. Post. By the time I got to her, Mary's swing-moves were as sophisticated as they could possibly be. Her ability to compartmentalize, in her life, was also jaw-dropping. Yet, there he stands, demanding attention, a mentor to her during her formative years, intermittent hubs guy, and another '76 to boot: John Ian Marshall. When I began with Mary in the early Aughts, he was in Center City, too. For the first five minutes I knew about him, I hated him. Quickly, however, I saw that he was another compartmentalization freak, and someone trying to manifest creativity in the world, and, from a distance, I did like John very much. See if you can spot him in Feel. But back to the Nineties. While I was in State College, and we all lived through Smashing Pumpkins boom-time, John and his posse, including Mary, migrated up to U Mass in Amherst, Ma. John organized trips. Ordained them. Some physical, some consciousness-based. And while the rooms swung around whatever the business of the moment was, Mr. Marshall often used Bitches Brew as a soundtrack. I followed suit, with Mary & Abby, in the early Aughts; and found that the parameters of our vision widened the right way. Even as I was later stunned to realize that my path had crossed once with John Ian Marshall's at a party in Elkins Park while I was still ensconced at CHS. As is karmic, it was just by chance that Mary wasn't with him. The universe, as I like to say, was planning some mischief for us. Peace.