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Category Archives: Memoir
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
When I told my friend Dorothy I was trying to overcome my muteness, she wrote to me about white lilacs. In their brief season, she said, they are “white like brides, with less than a month of blooming, not questioning … Continue reading
This morning, for no particular reason, I suddenly thought about a weird incongruous memory from my childhood, something that happened more than sixty years ago. Isn’t it funny how random images appear in our heads, completely unconnected to the narrative in … Continue reading
The Santa Ynez Valley women hikers ascended Gaviota Peak last week, looked out upon fog as thick and white as a field of snow below, then walked beneath a trestle of blooming ceanothus as we came down Trespass Trail. There are wildflowers … Continue reading
The moon was shining through white wisps of fog flung like scarves upon the hills, floating scarves, and one was patterned with the black branches of a tree in the foreground, and everything was illuminated in a beautiful ghostly way. I … Continue reading
It was almost like a dance, wending my way toward the center along a path that sometimes seemed to be taking me ever further away, spinning within the spinning of the world, and therefore feeling still. At the start was … Continue reading