On my own for the first time, I used to plaster the walls around my bed with hallucinogenic psychedelic art from the San Francisco Oracle, an underground newspaper that came out between 1966 and 1968. I made lots of home-made strings of beads and hung them on the walls between and on top of my makeshift posters when I wasn’t wearing them, and I had one of those thin cotton paisley Indian bedspreads, a blue-green one. My bedroom was a riot of color. The little mono phonograph was all I could afford, but to someone who’d never had a stereo, it sounded great playing the Buffalo Springfield, Jefferson Airplane, and The Doors. I wore that record player out.
The Oracle introduced me to people like Allen Ginsberg and Gary Snyder, both of whom I continue to read today. If I’d known that The Oracle would only be around for a short time, maybe I would have kept the copies I had instead of making wallpaper out of them. It was a wonderful newspaper, and my psychedelic bedroom was wonderful too.
Prompted at Sunday Scribbings: Oracle