Our life dreams the Utopia. Our death achieves the Ideal.

Every daring attempt to make a great change in existing conditions every lofty vision of new possibilities for the human race has been labeled Utopian.

All my writing is about the recognition that there is no single reality. But the beauty of it is that you nevertheless go on walking towards utopia which may not exist on a bridge which might end before you reach the other side.

Over the years Woodstock got glorified and romanticised and became the event that symbolised Utopia. It's the last page of our collective memory of the age of innocence. Then things turned ugly and would never be the same again.