From Postcards from my mind the lost Chord

​Mary Rossi © 2025


Today is March 30,2025. I am listening to the Moody Blues The Lost Chord . I was transported in time to many years ago. I am lost in a forest of psychedelic, flower words that tower over me. Their heads bobbing in the soft, sweet, warm breeze. Paisley skies swirl above me, and my past experiences float past in iridescent transparent bubbles. I can reach out, touch any bubble I focus on, and step into that experience as I watch the scene unfold. 

I created this world. Like Alice in Wonderland, I have fallen into the rabbit hole of my mind. My imagination is a playground of creativity. If I can imagine it, then it will become real. The results can be chaotic. I am an author.

It is 1968 in Downtown Oakland, California. I lie on my twin bed with the pink chenille bedspread in the dark with my stereo playing a Moody Blues album, "In Search of the Lost Chord.” Psychedelic visions unfold in my mind to the beat of the music. My bed is nestled against the wall with an open window letting in the warm breeze of a summer's eve. I am grounded for the weekend. The other girls who live here are out for a Saturday night. Walking distance from Lake Merrit Park, many places are here to eat and shop. City living at its best. Only a short bus ride from our Oakland High School on Park Boulevard.

Dude, I have finally arrived where I wanted to be. The past few years have been so extreme. Of horrors, nightmares, and bad trips, from being beaten by my stepmother and my Father to living on the streets in San Francisco, hitchhiking across states, just skipping down the highway following the wind wherever it led. Joining the hippie movement, I joined strangers hooking up as we traveled the road together for a while. I have never felt so free other than when I was flying. Now, I am safe within the walls of my head, flying high. 

Peace man! Spare change? Strolling through the financial district of San Francisco. The 105 lb skinny bell bottom jeans hippie girl asked. The man would reach into his pocket and pour all his loose change into her hands. Then handing him a flower and saying, "Thanks, man."

My name is Crystal Star! I am 16 years old. We are living in a time of change. We are going to change the world, man. One idea at a time. Riding the psychedelic waves within our souls are all connected! The sidewalk is breathing like marshmallow pillow stepping stones.The world is alive and trees are breathing and reaching out to me! Open your eyes man, see with your heart! We have arrived!!! We are carrying the seeds of a renewed world. Wake up man! We’re here!
​​Mary Rossi © 2025

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