“I moved here after I got back from Tangier, thinking that I was going to be here for a month, or at the most three months. I had no idea that I was going to spend the rest of my life here,”
“Let’s make an amazing space of openness for a living event whose name is John Giorno, and he tells us, crazy genius that he is, that he is 80 fucking years old.”
I felt akin to John Giorno’s kinetics from the start. A generally calm person, John is a torrent of purpose, an “activity demon.” His unique style on stage as preacher/hipster, radical dharma-wit-yogin, and more increasingly the lone poet with cowboy-inflected voice, feels like vital transmission.
Mostly I knew things about John Giorno when I first saw him perform. That he was a Buddhist, and it sounded like he had been a junkie, and from his poem I thought I understood that it was still hard for him to not do junk. Turns out that was fictional.