Remembering R.D.Laing, The Politics of Experience

These words from R.D.Laing's "The Politics of Experience and the Bird of Paradise" (1967) seemed profound back in the Sixties:

"Words in a poem, sounds in movement, rhythm in space, attempt to recapture personal meaning in personal time and space from out of the sights and sounds of a depersonalised, dehumanised world. They are bridgeheads into alien territory. They are acts of insurrection. Their source is from the Silence at the centre of each of us".

They still echo on. They were some of the words and ideas that were in my head when I first went to Corfu in 1967. Word salads, knots, human relationships, divided selves. Was he more confused or confusing?

The first chapter of  "The Politics of Experience and the Bird of Paradise".

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