A Rock in the Stream

A Rock in the Stream

<previous: Milestones

Last week we were talking about milestones- important times, like the late 1960’s or events, like first loves, that mark points of internal and external change. And that turn of discussion coincided with the completion of the first phase of the Lost Canyon Project. The first eight archives of Pete’s work have been photographed catalogued, boxed up, and returned to the storage locker. The catalogue currently numbers four hundred and two paintings, drawings, and sketches recorded so far. 

 I under-estimated the amount of work still waiting to be recorded. I returned from the storage unit with four heavy boxes, and a bag of larger unframed paintings. One box of large framed pieces remains in the locker.

Two of the boxes are paintings from The Lost Canyon Trip, one is marked Bygone Oilfields, and one is the Lost Era collection. 

Pete packed these up a long time ago. The most recent date I found on the newspapers wadded up for padding was 1982. I looked through all four collections. There is some incredible stuff here, and it hasn’t been seen since forever.

And speaking of stuff from so long ago- I was sharing some recollections from back in the day, particularly from around ’68. I was talking about Pete, the Hippies, the girls, and the whole  vibe of that small slice of time. When I said that the Hippies, such as they were, adopted Pete as one of their own, I did not mean to imply that Pete himself was a hippie. Pete was Pete.  And the “hippies” after all were mostly young folks following a current fad, essentially no different from any other kids of any other time. Long hair, and Nature, and being freaky were cool just then. Pete would have had all that regardless. He was a rock in a stream of changing fads. For most of the kids the long hair, and peace signs would go the way of disco. Within a few short years, the hippies moved on. Pete remained Pete.

And the girls?  Gay was only the first link in a long chain of heartbreak. Women, for Pete, would be the source of an unending spiral of grief. Pete could put on the charm, in his own peculiar way. He could give the impression of a wild, free spirit, in tune with nature, sensitive to beauty, and creative in the extreme. And it wasn’t an act. Pete was all that.

But if Pete seemed charming, and magical at first meeting, it would not be long before the more difficult facets of Pete came to light. There was nothing creepy, or kinky about Pete, but emotionally he could be needy as a child.

As I mentioned much earlier, there were great swaths of Pete’s personality that seemed frozen in single digit years. As an acquaintance, Pete could be great fun. As a friend he could be difficult, as a  partner, impossible.

He fell hopelessly in love with just about every girl who dated him. The girls would all too soon disappear, and Pete took to alcohol to kill the pain.

I was a teen-age kid in 1968, and, like all my high school pals, a wannabe hippie. Again, the odd strands of coincidence were connecting even then.

Last week I posted a picture of Pete with a couple of his pals, Dee Gayer, and Tom Malloy. Dee shared some of his recollections  earlier, and I hope to hear more from Dee in the future. I knew Dee’s younger brother, Kerry from school. Kerry introduced me to Jeff Goslowsky. One teen age afternoon, Jeff and I were in search of a buzz, and I remembered that I had a friend who was over 21. Jeff had his license, and we drove over to Pete’s house.

And here’s where the gap in ages stretched the widest.  It didn’t take long before Jeff and I met Pete’s new friends. These guys, Tommy, Dee , and others, were just 21. To them Jeff and I were pesky teeny boppers, and too young to be of much interest. But our age didn’t matter to Pete, who was already pushing thirty, and getting a little old for the ‘scene’.

If Gay turned out to be the first in a long list of heartbreaks, Jeff would serve as a sort of counterbalance. Jeff and Pete hit it off, and Jeff would, in the coming years, prove to be a true, and loyal friend to Pete, and the Hampton family. 

Next week we’ll have some recollections from Jeff Goslowsky, and a preview of the stuff in the next  archive. I took a quick look, but only a quick look through these collections. Hold on to your hats. There is some incredible stuff here.


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