Still a beginner

Is this a diary, a monologue for no-one or what the heck?
Its what I make of it.
This morning - half-term - teenage girls so what to do?

Ah-ha, the exhibition is in town, the Art and life.

Dear old Syd, why is he that? It used to be Syd Barret the Crazy Diamond who wacked up and left the Floyd, upped the ante over the edge and crashed and burned. Who was the Greek? The winged god in mythology who flew too close to the Sun? Ah, Icarus, he got disrespectful, and scorched his wings? Don't diss the big man baby, you are a flea.

Syd to me was always after the mad youthful MORE, do it, excess, try it, more of it, higher, where does it go and how far can we get? And he went for more for himself and all of us, chaaaarge!! Swinging a friendly peaceful axe into the thorny bush and undergrowth of post-war timorous conventionality and sterile temerity, the bowler-hatted and flat-capped staid staleness of pre-sixties Britain.

Oh yeah, all of us who were there, and dropping acid over the dope in that fine dawn, along with the Piper at the Gates and the Stellar Overdrive. Cosmic.
And now he is gone, and some of us are still here, without his questing.
And how on earth can I introduce my teenage daughters to the meaning of this man, his rise to some highest place of mind expansion, psychedelic blast, into atmospheres too thin to sustain a mind.
"No rules" Syd said, anarchy, but there are in nature and even within bands and pushed too far things become disorganised, break down, no order = derangement, and isolation from common humanity's common understanding. What do I know? We smoked joints off the same lump of hash maybe, but his space was miles away from mine, spinning out there while we drew back from overdrive.

Somehow though, in the garden with the clothes line or borrowing his bike with bells and rings and pretty things to make it look good, we met and melded in Astronomy Domine as he did in the same special way with so many others.

Looking forward to meeting him today:

Long live Syd. Ha, its not even his name!

Break

Now I must try to help this poor lady Yvonne, disbelieved, treated as mad because she was unable to articulate her sickness was due to the unregulated low-level radiation she was so unfortuately extra-sensitive to. Institutionalised for years as crazy too, now so thoroughly damaged I wonder how she can go on, or if she will for much longer.
And what can I do? So little it makes ESGuru a bad joke.