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The Sun Magazine

The Sun Interview


An Interview With Paul Winter

Consorting means joining together, associating in a common lot. To Paul Winter it means music in its most communal sense, and along with nature, it’s his passion. He’s a 43-year-old saxaphone player with a classical background. For 15 years he has led the Paul Winter Consort, a traveling group of diverse and talented musicians, whose rich sound blends influences from classical to African to jazz with voices both animal and human. Their style? It’s what Paul Winter has called “contemporary contrapuntal Connecticut country consort music,“ and it’s hard to pin down any further. Their music is the prototype of a lot of what now passes as “New Age“ or “whole earth“ music, but unlike many later groups, their music never seemed shallow or derivative; their experimentation was always fresh and honest.

Essays, Memoirs, and True Stories


Cholestiatoma is a loving beast; as with other cancers, he comes like a string around the finger, a chain around the throat, to insure that we do not idly forget why we are here. Cholestiatoma (Chole when masculine, Choleste when feminine) lives in my skull between the meningies and the right orbit. He sleeps on my optic nerve, is not always gracious; by sleeping too much and over indulgence in the proliferation of his own being he causes eye strain. I want to close my eye and rest. I want him off! I cry intently. May this beast be gone. I pray softly. But Chole that gluttonous fellow, Choleste that lascivious creature is here for a reason: to guide me, to help me transcend the bodily throes, and learn: there is no sidestepping life. You either deal with your stuff now or you deal with it later. It’s hard. It hurts. But there is no getting around it. You might as well get on with it. I thank you two.

*NOTE: Original copies of this issue are no longer available. Unbound, laser-printed copies will be provided for print orders.

Readers Write

Possessiveness And Jealousy

This jealous lovin’ will make me crazy — I can’t find my goodness ’cause I’ve lost my heart . . . ”

Personal Stories By Our Readers ▸


The winds of grace blow all the time. All we need to do is set our sails.


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