Shiv Mirabito hasn’t cut his hair since 1985.
He usually wears his dreadlocks tied in a bun, but to illustrate the point, he stands up inside his home, Woodstock Shivastan Poetry Ashram, and unravels them to the ground.
“I have the longest hair in Woodstock,” he said. For Mirabito, 58, the hair is more than a statement—it’s a vow. “Part of the whole hippie trip is not cutting your hair,” he said.
Best known as the keeper of the Shivastan Poetry Ashram, Mirabito runs the shop and gathering space inside of his home tucked behind Paul McMahon’s Mothership art space on Hillcrest Avenue. Inside, shelves brim with original copies of beat poetry, handmade volumes and zines produced through Shivastan Press, the imprint he founded in Kathmandu in 1997. The books are printed on lokta paper by women’s cooperatives in Nepal and bound by artisans. He has published more than 70 titles, modestly priced at $5 to $20, though full sets sometimes sell for thousands.
Paul McMahon, an artist and musician who has been in Woodstock since 1990, sees Mirabito as central to the town’s cultural identity. “That’s definitely part of our purpose—to project Woodstock into the world. Because the world needs more Woodstock,” McMahon said. “Shiv is as Woodstock as it gets. And he’s tied in very directly with the whole beat poet thing and the LGBTQ community. And he also has a connection with spirituality.” McMahon runs The Mothership a community art space in Woodstock out of his home and rents the adjacent house to Mirabito.
That ethos has anchored Woodstock’s countercultural lineage. “It represents an honoring of our higher artistic selves and is a location where people can meet and connect,” said Shandaken artist Sylvia Bullett, a friend of Mirabito’s since 1990.
Mirabito’s journey began in Norwich, N.Y., where he and his high school boyfriend were “the only hippies in town.” In the 1980s, they made pilgrimages to Woodstock, drawn by Grateful Dead shows, Rainbow Gatherings, and Allen Ginsberg’s nearby farm. Those summers introduced him to Buddhism, Hinduism, and vegetarianism—what he calls “a lifelong spiritual trip of being a hippie.”
On his first trip to India, a group of sadhus told him, “Oh no, you’re Shiva.” He adopted the name and has returned to South Asia every winter since, living on a Kathmandu rooftop for $150 a month, eating $2 vegetarian meals, and overseeing his press.
He traces his role to Woodstock’s broader lineage: Byrdcliffe and Maverick in the early 20th century, the Beats, the hippies. He worked as an archivist for poet Ed Sanders of The Fugs, and last year hosted a memorial for the ashes of Beat pioneer Herbert Huncke and folklorist Harry Smith.
Through it all, he has lived simply, supported by the press, his shop, and the occasional library sale. His brother became a police officer—“as different from me as possible”—but Mirabito remains rooted in Woodstock. “Everybody in Woodstock is semi-famous,” he said. “You never know if the person next to you was married to Owsley or played with Hendrix.”
Asked what being a hippie means to him now, Mirabito didn’t hesitate: “Peace and love and compassion and human rights for all beings and nature and, you know, all that good stuff.”
The Shivastan Poetry Ashram is open daily, 12–6 p.m. On Sept. 6, Mirabito will host a community garden party with singer-songwriter Spyce, plus a vegan potluck and open mic.
Noah Eckstein is the editor-in-chief of The Overlook. Send correspondence to noah@theoverlooknews.com.