3 Days In Woodstock

  The Museum at Bethel Woods is the good acid. Because it will trip you out inside the time spent, with no shitty side effects. Yanno . . like ending up in the ER, or dying. I could go through a good many different sentiments in regards to the forty five minute gallivant me and Q took… Continue reading 3 Days In Woodstock

Three Days In Woodstock

The ride from Woodstock to Max Yasgur's farm in Bethel, New York is a stained glass portrait of mountain ranges that unfurl in rhythmic piecemeal. Inside the deep emerald wound of birches, maples, cedars, hornbeams and spruce, you can taste the flavor of a thousand years worth of patience. Geologically speaking, the Catskills are not… Continue reading Three Days In Woodstock

Sorryless Sunday Morning

I am proclaiming this Sunday to be the intermezzo of my Woodstock series of posts. So in lieu of flower power, Imma post the first in a brand new series that will show up on the regular once I'm finished spilling on my three days of peace and music in the Catskills with the lovely… Continue reading Sorryless Sunday Morning

Three Days In Woodstock

Woodstock isn't a destination, it's a state of mind. Every morning feels like Sunday, every afternoon like Saturday and every evening feels like church. There is a unique charm to the jagged little town built into the side of the Catskill Mountains. Its quirky architecture and funky colored Victorians tell stories without saying a word.… Continue reading Three Days In Woodstock