Always a sad moment to be at the other end of a show, just before it is taken down; feels like the carnival’s leaving town. This is a shot of the exhibit at Pirats Omega Gallery last night, just before it was all packed up and shipped out. On to another show, somewhere down the road. Oh… yeah. Studio 33.

Chrome standing in front of his latest work, The Possibility of Physical Immortality in the Mind of Someone Famous. The 10-foot high glass tank installation contains British artist Damien Hirst suspended in 2200 gallons of formaldehyde.

Speaking of On the Road, it wasn’t all that long ago that Chrome, the immortal bohemian artist and writer, blew in on a fresh breeze from the New Wilderness, fully formed, jazzed by everything and everyone around him. He touched down briefly in San-Fran-cisco to cast his spell on the Love Generation along with fellow poets Michael McClure and Bob Dylan, seen above, standing outside the Six Gallery in 1965.

He saw the best minds of his generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked, while In the rooms around him his friends would come and go, talking of Michelangelo; you know, measuring their lives in coffee spoons, blah, blah, blah. It was so hip to be cool, he once said, that he could barely contain himself. Hence, that legendary road. Ahh, but he was so much older then; he’s younger than that now.