Word: thingness
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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From the looks of Little Bay, one thing was clear. Christo was there. The craggy Australian inlet nine miles from downtown Sydney lay beneath 1,000,000 sq. ft. of clingy, opaque, icky, sticky polypropylene plastic, looking like some improbable flotsam that had drifted in on a high tide, the last relic of a disposal civilization. The Aussies were taking it all in stride. Last weekend, some 2,500 of them happily trooped out to Little Bay and plunked down the modest 20? admission to see what this artist named Christo had wrought...
...philosopher who dominates the stage, puts 27 sticks of gum in his mouth because he has always wanted to do it. When Saroyan says, "In the time of your life, live," one realizes almost eerily that there, 30 years ago, the cry was first raised about "doing your own thing...
...Dylan has never been big on interviews. For one thing, he doesn't like questions; for another, he doesn't need publicity. Since 1966, when he broke his neck in a motorcycle accident, he has avoided reporters almost entirely-much to the despair of millions of young people who idolize him as a primogenitor of the rock generation. Now Dylan has had a change of heart and granted an interview to a San Francisco-based rock magazine...
...rewrite it all," he explains. "But still, it wasn't any book; it was just to satisfy the publishers who wanted to print something that we had a contract for. Follow me? So eventually I had my motorcycle accident and that just got me out of the whole thing, 'cause I didn't care anymore. As it stands now, I could write a book. But I'm gonna write it first, and then give it to them. You know what I mean...
...wind was screaming off the lake. In the clearing the trees were bending in the wind like drawn bows as Fred hung Melina's sponge in a spruce and sprinkled the trunk with a liquid lure made from the sex glands of a doe. Nothing worked. "The only thing left to do," said Fred, blackening his face with soot, "is hunt by moonlight and shoot by shape." Shortly after dusk, his eye caught the reflection of antlers in the moonlight. Again it was the big buck, and again he was moving enticingly close-70 yards, 65, 60. Then...