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The ultimate deception

January 14th, 2016

Hastings cutoff was a tragedy

Every Californian knows the Donner Party’s unsuccessful struggle to get over the winter Sierra mountains of 1846 and 1847.  The party believed that taking the Hastings Cutoff would save them three hundred travel miles, but that was not the case. Hastings deceived pioneers. Hastings had never traveled the route, but he made bogus maps that many pioneers tried to follow, and he made money writing his map.  It was not a short cut.  Cannibalism and horror are the Donner party’s story because they believed Hastings. Continue reading “The ultimate deception” »

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honest color

January 5th, 2016
heavenly colors

heavenly colors

My parents found a San Francisco apartment on Lincoln Avenue when our family moved from Japan.  It was a cold second-floor dump near Golden Gate Park.  My father smiled and waved into the super-eight movie camera, wearing his overcoat, looking like Cary Grant, a strong nose, dark eyebrows, and brown eyes.  My mother beams, looking sexy, with blue eyes and brown hair.  A friendly mounted policeman lifts me onto his sorrel horse and rides me around, wearing a green car coat, brimmed hat tied with a bow over my golden hair. Continue reading “honest color” »

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considerations

December 29th, 2015

trajectories

Where do the words go when we have said them?  Margaret Atwood asks that question, and I have also asked it before. Some people don’t even think about where words go or where consequences split away from our thoughts. I also want to know what happens to consequences that we don’t get from choosing different behavior? Continue reading “considerations” »

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sitting here is hard

December 22nd, 2015
it's not easy to sit

it’s not easy to sit

There is a time and place, and I have reached a new time and a new mental place.  Something shifted.  At my tender age, it’s a miracle that I can still change. Continue reading “sitting here is hard” »

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coursing blood

December 15th, 2015
imaginary map

imaginary map of the world

Think of our blood and how old it is.  I traveled to South Carolina last November, and traced genealogy back six generations. I found Columbia’s First Presbyterian Church and their graves were next to the main street, which means the relatives must have been one of the first families buried there when the church was built. Continue reading “coursing blood” »

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truth and beauty

December 8th, 2015
someday I will make beauty

someday I will make the most beautiful art in the world

Thinking about the relationship between what is beautiful and what is true, reminds me of one of my high school students long ago.

John was super bright, but stifled when it came to accepting his artistic talent and his brains. He was the type of boy who would rather suffer consequences from doing nothing, instead of making an effort on any given project. That’s why he was at our school for at-risk students.  I loved his poetry when he did write in English, and his way of expressing himself moved me deeply. Continue reading “truth and beauty” »

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My Hills

December 1st, 2015
Marin in working class days

Marin in working class days

Let me explain how much I love Tiburon hills where I grew up after my family left San Francisco. They were my hills, and they were safe.

Coastal Miwoks lived thousands of years before California had a name, before Marin County, before my neighborhood called Bel Aire exploded into a subdivision.  They dug clams in mucky salt marsh and didn’t leave a written language.  We felt their presence in every blade of grass and crevice of hillside. Continue reading “My Hills” »

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Tiny child

November 24th, 2015
He's pleasant to small children

He’s pleasant to small children

What it’s like to be born in Japan on the fourth of July:

Japanese was my first language, since my nurse Sadako spoke it to me.  I translated for my parents in marketplaces and shops.  My mother kept ceramic plates, traditional pottery and a rice cooker, elaborate kimono fabrics and earrings, lacquer tables, Tansu furniture, delicate porcelain dolls and hanging scrolls of painted fish. Continue reading “Tiny child” »

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Divorce Effects

November 17th, 2015
heliocopter

health helicopter

Second husband had an aneurysm yesterday, and was flown from Alaska’s Prince of Wales (POW) Island to Seattle by helicopter or something dramatic like that.  His children from multiple marriages were present at his side, including mine, and he’s sounding perky, like he’ll make it. Continue reading “Divorce Effects” »

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Why I wrote a memoir

November 10th, 2015
I call her Lindy

I call her Lindy

Nobody expected my best friend Lindy’s crack-up to last her lifetime, plucked and placed behind double locked doors in various California mental hospitals.  Nothing I do changes what happened to her.  Her six other sisters didn’t wind up that way.   Lindy never learned to function, outside of grabbing a dinner tray, going through a meal line, and returning for dessert. Continue reading “Why I wrote a memoir” »

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