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Philip Whalen visiting Lloyd Reynolds, his house Reed College- Lloyd had taught Snyder Welch & Whalen their Italic Calligraphy & Challenged McCarthyism & brought W.C. Williams to read, early 1950's. Here late July 1963, Portland Oregon.

Allen Ginsberg

Credit: Gift of Gary Davis
1963, printed later
Gelatin silver print
2016.184.23
Image © National Gallery of Art, 2020

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Francesco Clemente taking a break from painting my portrait in oil, his first from life model, here working on background of imaginary Afric head, his studio Broadway & Great Jones Street. We'd done several illuminated books together (notably White Shroud 1984) & he'd published my Blake discourse "Your Reason & Blake's System" in his Palm-sized Hanuman Editions. Manhattan December 14, 1989.
Francesco Clemente taking a break from painting my portrait in oil, his first from life model, here working on background of imaginary Afric head, his studio Broadway & Great Jones Street. We'd done several illuminated books together (notably White Shroud 1984) & he'd published my Blake discourse "Your Reason & Blake's System" in his Palm-sized Hanuman Editions. Manhattan December 14, 1989.
Shambhu Bharti Baba, traditionally naked Naga Sadhu in sandy basement porch-shelter under Pilgrims' Guest-house above ancient Manikarnika Ghat burning-grounds at Ganges waterside in Benares, oldest cintinuously inhabited city on Earth. During six-months stay a few alleys down-river, I visited occasionally to smoke chilams, clay pipes as at edge of fire-pit, packed with ganja-tobacco mix & share Baba's silence vow along with small circle of his friends, devotees, local schoolteachers & clerks. One morning I brought camera, he invited me to take pictures rising to disrobe loin-cloth & G-string, stood nude beside Naga spear, brass waterpot & Shiva Trident. See Indian Journals, 1970, p.130. December 18, 1962, 10:30 AM.
Shambhu Bharti Baba, traditionally naked Naga Sadhu in sandy basement porch-shelter under Pilgrims' Guest-house above ancient Manikarnika Ghat burning-grounds at Ganges waterside in Benares, oldest cintinuously inhabited city on Earth. During six-months stay a few alleys down-river, I visited occasionally to smoke chilams, clay pipes as at edge of fire-pit, packed with ganja-tobacco mix & share Baba's silence vow along with small circle of his friends, devotees, local schoolteachers & clerks. One morning I brought camera, he invited me to take pictures rising to disrobe loin-cloth & G-string, stood nude beside Naga spear, brass waterpot & Shiva Trident. See Indian Journals, 1970, p.130. December 18, 1962, 10:30 AM.
William Burroughs on roof of apartment house East Seventh Street where I had a flat, we were lovers those months, editing his letters into books not published till decades later (as Queer, 1985) Lower East Side Fall 1953.
William Burroughs on roof of apartment house East Seventh Street where I had a flat, we were lovers those months, editing his letters into books not published till decades later (as Queer, 1985) Lower East Side Fall 1953.
Gregory Corso, his attic room 9 Rue Gît-le-Coeur, wooden angel hung from wall right, window looked on courtyard and across Seine halfblock away to spires of St. Chapelle on Ile St. Louis. Gregory’s Gasoline was ready at City Lights, in attic he prepared “Marriage,” “Power,” “Army,” “Police,” “Hair” and “Bomb” for Happy Birthday of Death book. Henri Michaux visited, liked Corso’s “mad children of soda-caps” phrasing Burroughs came from Tanger to live one flight below, shaping Naked Lunch manuscript, Peter Orlovsky and I had window on street two flights downstairs, room with two-burner gas stove, we ate together often, rent $30 a month. I’d begun Kaddish litany, Peter his “Frist Poem.”
Gregory Corso, his attic room 9 Rue Gît-le-Coeur, wooden angel hung from wall right, window looked on courtyard and across Seine halfblock away to spires of St. Chapelle on Ile St. Louis. Gregory’s Gasoline was ready at City Lights, in attic he prepared “Marriage,” “Power,” “Army,” “Police,” “Hair” and “Bomb” for Happy Birthday of Death book. Henri Michaux visited, liked Corso’s “mad children of soda-caps” phrasing Burroughs came from Tanger to live one flight below, shaping Naked Lunch manuscript, Peter Orlovsky and I had window on street two flights downstairs, room with two-burner gas stove, we ate together often, rent $30 a month. I’d begun Kaddish litany, Peter his “Frist Poem.”

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