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CHAPTER 4:

SENSUAL IN-BETWEEN ENTROPIES

Since the early teens, I’ve been beguiled by girls and women that have what might be regarded as exquisite sensibility, perhaps more precisely, exquisite self sensibility. These inhabitants of the near transformational neighborhoods of bifurcation sets, are grandly responsive receivers of emotionally significant information arising from their insides and the world. They are the canaries in the deep mines of human experience. Not the usual one lively-eye, one sober-eye, binocular difference of most of us, both their eyes sparkle, their feeling antennae await a happening and each is regarded as new. I spot these brains in a crowd within minutes and am compulsively drawn to know them better, to become part of them, to vicariously experience and serve them. They seem to have little inhibitory control of even weak sensory information on its way to their strong, global feelings. Near ecstasy and excruciating pain await. They feel their anticipations with their body, down to their painted toes. Their receptivity brings me lower abdominal warmth in remembrance.

At sixteen in my Dad-purchased second hand Ford convertible, I was parked with my new girl friend on Sarasota’s Lido Beach, hearing and seeing dark shadows of the Gulf of Mexico’s waves hit white sand against the night sky. I took her flat party shoes off to message her feet. When I kissed her left foot and sucked gently on her toes, she gasped and became faint. She told me that a strong electric shock

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