Just kids.

when i read a book, I jump into pages, walk there between the lines and taste the feelings shared in there. I live in there for a while, process things there, that I've never even seen or been through. I go along with it. I take on the role. Just Kids made me a poet and lover of art. Things are said about art, in this book, that inspires people to see. Well it inspired me. But it also made me hate it. How Patti can find such beauty in things that are so horrible. Well artists are tragic they say, they say that they're beautiful. Just like Patti, but art is not depression nor drugs or tears. Charms maybe but, it does not define art. Art makes me smile, it sets me free. But without my life having to be an accident. Patti's life was poor and she didn't have a lot to choose from, but she found beauty in it. Its wonderful to read her mind, but it makes me sad to see art so black. Not in her really, but in Robert the photographer. It scares me a bit, to see someone love a person like that so much, but if someone was meant for it, it must have been Patti. She loves him so well. But walking next to those feelings, that simple loving of a mind so closed and frustrated shakes me. Makes me worry. Worry a lot. It shows a dark side of art that scares me, but still it's magnificent. It's another perfect book.

Patti Smith is sharing every little detail, it seems, of her life as a young woman. As an struggling artists she gives up thoughts of studying and she sets of to New York. This is where she starts developing what I think is a very beautiful but complex relationship with the Robert character. They grow together as artists, and she shares the most brilliant moments she had during this time in her life. The amazing people she met and all the thoughts she had. There's a lot of pictures in the book, and poems from the time she and Robert was young. It's very focused on Robert all the time, written in his honor. He died in AIDS. It's really a good book. Read, read, read.


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