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Category Archives: Friends
My friends Ming and David came out on Sunday for our annual New Year’s walk, only six months late. After coffee and croissants, we headed for the beach. The air was warm and humid, the shore was heaped with tangles … Continue reading
On April 19, 1987, the Los Angeles Times ran a commentary by my friend Mark Haunfelner. It was titled “A Hope Exists to ‘Cure’ the World” and it was an especially poignant and ambitious kind of hope in view of … Continue reading
Mother’s Day is one of those arbitrary proclamations that hit many of us with a hail of mixed emotions. My mother is gone, and my only child far away, and I know that I am not alone in finding the … Continue reading
After we hiked for several hours in the backcountry, my friend welcomed me into her home for shower (with some poison oak soap) and a nap in her guest room. I didn’t bother to unmake the bed; I just got … Continue reading
How you stand here is important. How you listen for the next things to happen. How you breathe. (William Stafford) “How you fall is also important,” says my friend Nyuol, who is twenty-six but very wise. “If you fall, … Continue reading
Our calendar was unexpectedly blank for the day. No one was counting on us, no tasks were urgent, and our irrelevance felt like license for a field trip. We recruited our old friends Kit and Beverly and set out into the misty … Continue reading
Yesterday I went for a walk with my friend Cornelia. It required that we climb a few hills, face down a brisk wind, thrash through brush and foxtails, step gingerly along bumpy uneven ground, and even clamber up a creek bank once, holding onto … Continue reading
Over the years, I’ve been following the work of an artist friend, James Griffith, who has lately been making extraordinary paintings using the medium of tar–”primordial goo”– from La Brea Tar Pits. James has always demonstrated remarkable skill in creating exquisitely detailed … Continue reading
In 1998, I went to Italy with my friend Donna and her mom, Sue. We rented a car at the airport in Florence; Sue and Donna took turns at the wheel and I sat in the back seat, timid and … Continue reading