More on Port Costa

I am in love with this little town! I found this site today that I want to pass on to my friends who are reading this. Clayton Bailey is an artist who runs the Port Costa Sky Cam and posts a daily photo on this web site. The photos are of his car-stopping home as you enter Port Costa. Click on the picture and scroll up and down or right and left to see all of his terrific creatures.

More Travels in the East Bay

This week I decided to go to Benicia; it lies just across the water and to the east of Crockett. I know only that it has an old main street and a sizable art community. Across the bridge and a few more miles and I arrive at a city quite a bit larger than the other towns I've described. It has about 28,000 inhabitants, is home to industry, and boasts of its history as the state capitol for a brief period in the 1850's.
Of course I am again drawn to the waterfrontand its choice "photo ops". This city has expensive homes fronting the water and a riverwalk with benches here and there for those inclined to stay a while. I spend most of my time here walking along the water and on the pier. The main street has many old buildings, about ten restaurants in a four block area, and a vintage theater advertising gigs with local bands; it is somewhat unremarkable.
The Arts Center is in a row of warehouses with studios and a gallery. the gallery was closed and only one glass artist was working. These buildings are near the water with a view of the refineries.
Before leaving the city I went to the Benicia History Museum. I saw replicas of the flags of about 16 countries that had for a brief time landed on California shores and claimed the territory- including Russia and Argentina or Venezuela (I can't remember which). Lots of facts about choosing a state capitol and General Vallejo and his wife, Benicia. But what most interested me was that the museum was housed in the former camel barn. Apparently in the 1850's Jefferson Davis had the idea to import camels to assist the army in the desert. They used them for several years, then moved them to Benicia to be sold at auction. One man purchased all 32 camels for $1050. Makes me wonder what he did with them.
Coming back over the bridge I then drive west to go to Hercules. First I have to pass through Rodeo (Ro-day-oh). Refineries! I find them also interesting- shiny metal structures spewing thick clouds into the air, huge trucks entering and leaving, and men working. Rodeo was rather ugly and somewhat down-and-out.
Hercules seems to be only housing developments of various kinds. One that I can see from the road attracts me. It appears to be of a different ilk ,and I have to see it up close. This was built as a small town, circa 1920-40, and holds 330 houses. It is seductive as the houses are pretty and all different. I remember the first time I went to Disneyland and entered on Main Street with the cheery little houses and a brass band playing. I was attracted and repelled at the same time. This was Disneyland. The landscape is barren. A woman walks toward me on the empty street. May I ask you a question, she says. Did you just take a photo? Why are you taking photos? I tell her I am a tourist and that I like taking photos. She is anxious and clearly objecting, tells me that I can ask the agent for photos. I tell her I mean no harm, smile, and walk to my car.

Adventures in the East Bay, Part II

A glorious cool and sunny day yesterday found me in Crockett by the Carquinez Strait.
I walked from the cottage where David is staying towards the water and the C&H Sugar plant (100 years of sweetness). The blue water, the hills and towns on the other side, the bridge, the plant's smokestack -all of it- filled my eyes with a strange kind of beauty. The train tracks ran along the water's edge and occasionally a little yellow car, looking like something out of the distant past, chugged by followed sometime later by an Amtrak train on its way to Sacramento. I've always loved the sound of trains.

The town of Crockett reminds me of Freeland in Pennsyvania where I grew up. Maybe a little hillier and with wider streets, but oddly reminiscent. Lots of American flags, and veterans; I know I won't be discussing politics here. The downtown has two antique shops run by old men, a sandwich shop, Club Tac- a bar started in 1923, a few "art" galleries, and not much else. 3200 inhabitants.

I drove toward Port Costa on the Carquinez Strait Scenic Road and stopped briefly at a park. I talked with a local couple there with two black labs named Buddy and they recommended some hiking trails and other must-sees in the area. Saving the hike for another time, I drove the 4 miles to Port Costa- a town with one central dead end street that stops at the water, beautiful old buildings and two interesting restaurants that opened later in the afternoon. The architecture was astounding- both the old and the new. The 3 story, late 1800's, former bordello, Burlington Hotel has rooms to let if you don't mind some dust, 1960's decor, and a bath down the hall. I hear that, if you ask across the street at the Warehouse Cafe, they give you the keys and tell you to choose a room. Fifty dollars for the night and it includes a surf and turf dinner at the Cafe. This info comes from the net. I'll let the photos tell the story.

After lunch back in Crockett, I decided to see the Crockett Museum, as it was also recommended by the two Buddys' folks. The door was open and a very old man was sitting inside. The museum was closed, he said, but I could have a look. He came to do some work, but was having a rest. The first room held WWII memories. Uniforms and photos of Crockett men who wore them, Japanese and German weapon "souvenirs, things. Other rooms honored its special citizens- a bust of a doctor and photos of his nurses, photos of Aldo Ray and stories about his family. (His brother married the daughter of Sammy Davis Jr. and May Britt.) Rooms were stuffed with old vacuum cleaners, typewrites, tools. They had the last telephone switchboard in CA retired in Crockett in 1969 and an 8 foot long, detailed model of a cathedral in Washington, DC built by a patient in the local sanitarium. And it went on.
When I was leaving I asked the old man, who had been joined by another senior, if he had lived in Crockett all of his life. Yep, he said. You must have known all of these people then. He answered, I knew most of them. The other man then spoke up and said, I buried all of them.

Not done yet. I drove the few miles to Martinez to visit the john Muir house. I should have saved it for another day as I didn't have much time before it closed.
It was a beautiful Victorian and a pleasure to wander through it. The grounds are worth another visit.

I am enjoying exploring these towns and only regret that David is not with me because he is working in the local hospital. Perhaps instead of returning to Santa Cruz, we will stay one weekend and continue our discoveries together.

An Edible Landscape

After we finished our remodel a few years ago, we still had landscaping of our front yard to do. As an interim measure David put in a sprinkler system and we sowed two pounds of wildflower seeds. The first year was glorious! A beautiful mix about four feet high- red, yellow, blue and white. Everyone who walked past our house told us how much they loved it. The second year was OK but somewhat scraggly and included a lot of weeds.
After this summer in Italy and my (our) profound connection to the land and working with our neighbors, we both came home with the idea to grow vegetables in the front of our house.
The photo above shows one half of the yard and the boxes David and I built. The stones are recycled concrete from a sidewalk David jack-hammered out. I am using them to build a path in the center and will plant flowers in the diamond.
As much as is possible, I am trying to buy what we eat from local producers and growers. I have a new awareness of my buying and always stop to consider: Do I need this? How far has this item traveled to get to the store? Is this product toxic in any way? Is there something we already own that can be used for the same purpose?
Today I found this video on the net. It is twenty minutes long and a powerful and comprehensive description of our impact on the planet. I believe every child in school should see this and every consumer should heed it. It is called Stuff. Take a look at it.
More to come on our garden as we progress.

Adventures in the East Bay

David is working for a month in Martinez in Contra Costa County, about 75 miles north of Santa Cruz. I drove up to spend a few days with him on Wednesday. It was a beautiful day, there was no traffic,the surrounding hills were beginning to turn green and the drive was pleasant- until I got to Pleasant Hill. I came near to having a panic attack trying to find the place he was staying. I had directions but I kept missing the building which was at the end of the parking lot for a shopping mall. It was a somewhat seedy studio in an equally seedy "extended stay residence.

I brought some food for dinner and realized I left the corkscrew behind so I set out to get one. I went into all of the stores I've never been in- Best Buy (like Circuit City but bigger), Kohls (like Gottshalks but the size of Costco) and a few others. I found a $20 dollar corkscrew but decided to buy a $5 wine with a screw top instead. Forgot milk and butter too. Had to buy a half gallon of milk and a pound of butter. The stores sold things in large sizes. The shoppers were large too and could be seen pushing oversized carts with three-gallon containers of ice cream, 5 pound cans of coffee or wall-sized televisions. Driving around brought me to more shopping centers- one pretending to be fancy. It posted a plaque in various places with a code of conduct. The area consists of almost contiguous cities with a plethora of shopping malls and fast food places everywhere and many cars. My worst nightmare.

I was happy to see David and stay in to eat the spaghetti dinner I brought.
On the internet I read about the various towns in Contra Costa county and decided I wanted to go to Knightsen. It is 30 miles east of hwy 680 with a population of 1200, has six parks, and is bordered on two sides by the delta. Sounded good to me. Thursday it was raining lightly. I drove 680 and then route 4 east. After leaving route 4 I was in a different world. Passing through many small burgs with 1950's style small tract houses with names like Oakley and Brentwood , some grape vines still holding on to their red autumn leaves, and old commercial buildings that had seen better days, I was almost at Knightsen. I passed a large open front one story business called Statues and Stuff. Outside was a plastic statue of a horse up on two legs about 10 feet tall, a rooster at 6 feet, monster turtles and rabbits, and many, many others creatures. I regret not stopping to talk with this person.
Downtown Knightsen was one small street with two businesses- Sonya's Country Inn, that looked like a seedy, decrepit bar, and the Red Coach Deli that resembled its neighbor but sold food. (Click flickr link for photos.)
I continued to drive. Ranches and farms everywhere. Animals- horses, sheep, goats and dogs. I pulled up at one red barn to take a photo and two uber-friendly black and white border collie type dogs came running to greet me. The happier of the two, pictured above, walked on three legs and held one stiff front leg straight out and smiled. Made my day.
I drove on following the delta highway into some very beautiful areas. Trees with golden leaves reflected in the still water.Houseboats moored along the roadside and no people to be seen and few cars. I felt good and enjoyed the morning. I like being near water and animals.
In the afternoon I met with two women who had studios for short term rental and enjoyed meeting them both. One was a Chinese woman who just published her autobiography about growing up in China during the cultural revolution with a father who was persecuted. I will read the book. The other woman was a sculptor.
David is moving to a motel next week that is 3/4 mile from the hospital in the small and retro town of Martinez which we both liked. It's got a pool, HBO, internet access, a spa, fridge and microwave and he can walk to work. No shopping centers, one starbucks and lots of funky antique shops. Surrounded by beautiful hills and also on the delta.
I will continue to explore for the rest of the time he is there. There's got to be more than shopping malls.
Evelyn

Halloween at the Tattoo Parlor

You may not know that Halloween is the most favored holiday in Santa Cruz. Although we are rarely among the group of celebrants, this year we decided to join in. Kai Smart, Mykle's sweetheart, was celebrating the grand opening of her new tattoo parlor on the Saturday before Halloween and invited people to come in costume. They are living in Davis which is near Sacramento so we booked a hotel room and went up for the party.

We spent two hours covering ourselves in tattoo decals- ferocious tigers and eagles, scorpions and butterflies and a few new age rainbows and flowers. We were met with a small chorus of, "you guys are awesome!" when we showed up. The shop was beautiful. They had worked until a few 4ams getting the place painted and ready for the opening and it came together beautifully. Kai and her mentor and partner in the business are both artists and presented a show of their work. Chris, another partner and a piercer, also displayed his art. (I won one of his pieces in the drawing. Mykle tells me it is a bright green skull with flames coming out of the head).
We had a good time and, as usual, enjoyed their smart and interesting friends a lot.
(Click the flickr link for more photos.)

Mykle then left on the 31st to begin a six week job on a ship. The scientific expedition leaves from Chile and will be working in Antarctic waters. This is Mykle's current employment in lieu of a "real job". He's scheduled for a few more expeditions in the coming months.

THOUGHTS ON LEAVING

We leave here in less than two weeks and my thoughts turn to the months that have passed here and the things that stand out for me. Most important is the continued contact with the natural and the non-human world that we are immersed in here.
By contrast, at home that contact with the sentient landscape begins to fade as I become more self-focused and preoccupied with my daily tasks and primarily human concerns. I may wake up to see a beautiful sunset or to watch a gopher tugging at a plant in the garden or to talk to the snake that crosses my path, but I quickly return to my inner world, my preoccupations.
I just visited the goat stall where my favorite goat, her kid, and another female goat have been isolated and contained with a young male goat from Sergio’s farm. They have been crying for two days to be free to join the others. The male ran back to Sergio’s when he was released, and the purpose for his visit, of course, is to impregnate the females. He is smaller than one of the girls, and I wonder if he is up to the task. One of the kids with horns turns his head to the side to fit it through the wooden railings and I marvel at his learning. I talk to them and give them some dried bread. I note their differences, how much fear they show, how they respond to me. They let me touch them. I do this almost daily.
The pig, which I’ve named Massimo, had a shower yesterday. He seemed to enjoy being under the hose Arturo held and drinking from it. He came over to me, sniffed my hand, and looked at me with watery eyes. He is a huge ugly beast but beautiful in his ugliness.
The chickens get excited when I approach- maybe expecting food or maybe aware of a stranger. The rooster becomes alert and struts among his harem proudly.
For the last three days David and I, with our two wonderful friends from Scotland, harvested the whole corn field with Arturo and Margherita. We sat on crates together in the field talking and laughing for three or four hours each day while shucking corn in the sun. The dogs and the cat were there with us. Dik liked to lay down on the pile of unshucked corn stalks in the middle of everything. The clouds billowed above us, one briefly covered the sun. We all stopped work to watch the flight of a hawk or the sound of an approaching vehicle. The time flew and the work got done. I said to Arturo-we can finish today ; he answered- no. After a few more exchanges I understood what he meant. For him the work is there, he does what he does, and tomorrow he will do more. It is continuous. It is his life. He is in harmony with the earth he cultivates and the animals he feeds. It is timeless.
After work we eat dinner together. More laughing. Good food from the field, wild boar from the forest, wine from their grapes,olive oil from the silvery trees I see from my window as I write.
It is this that I love most- being in this beautiful valley, close to the source of the food we eat, living with animals who become that food, and with those animals who are part of the family. Margherita and Arturo are simple, generous, and honest people who have inherited this life, nutured its continuance, and lovingly shared it with us for twenty years. I have learned a lot from them.
(click the flickr link for photos)

PAVAROTTI

Pavarotti died today. We went to Carrara and wandered through the marble quarries, our shoes covered in talcum-like marble dust. The white mountains against the blue, blue sky stood out dramatically. We had no contact to television nor did we read a newspaper, but we imagined that all Italy was in mourning.
This evening we ate downstairs in candlelight- too cold to be outside- and we listened to him sing.
It was a beautiful day tinged with the sadness of the loss of this great voice.

I just read a book...

I just read a book that I liked very much. One that I find myself thinking about and liking more over the two weeks since I finished it: The Glass Palace, by Amitav Ghosh.
It spans a century, from the British takeover and exile of the king of Burma to India in the late 1800's through WWII and into the late 1990's. It tells the story of Indians in Burma working in teak harvesting and of Indians fighting with the British in the Indian Army through the unfolding history of one family. The author was a fastidious researcher and the novel was fueled by a passion to tell the story that his father lived, talked about, and questioned, as an officer in the Indian Army stationed in Singapore.
I learned a lot about teak and about elephants. Did you know that the teak tree is related to the mint family? Or that anthrax was common in the forests of central Burma and could lie dormant in the soil for thirty years? In its most virulent form anthrax could kill an elephant in a matter of hours.
The British Indian Army offered men (of a certain class) the opportunity to become officers, have status and work -perhaps not available to them in India. These men
learned to dine on roast beef and to drink whiskey. There were mutinies among the ranks- some joined the Japanese to fight the British. There were conflicts between the "loyalists" and those who saw fighting with Britain as fighting against India.
It was an informative and epic novel; the lives of its protagonists came alive for me on the pages. I recommend it!

AFTER THE STORM

Three a.m. The explosion woke me. It was followed by a flash of lightening that brought daylight into our bedroom for a moment. This continued for an hour- no rain, amazing thunder and lightening. As many times as I have experienced these summer storms here, I still feel restless and edgy. Our woods are extremely dry and the lightening was potentially dangerous.
When the rain began it was torrential. We neglected to get up before it started to close windows and doors and bring in cushions from the chairs. I went back to sleep.
The rain brought a small river running down our road which curves around our house in the back. The mud that came with it immediately covered the drain in the road and some water entered the other bedroom. We now have a small stream that has been running through our meadow and past our new well for three days. It seems to be coming from under the road. A morning of clean-up and drying out. The rain was very welcome.

The second morning after, the day was glorious! Like one of those first crisp, clear autumn days back east. We took Sonny in the car to the top of the road so Dik wouldn't follow and walked. It was like suddenly having 20/20 vision after seeing everything with slightly fuzzy and dusty edges. (Click on the Flickr link for photos.)
Little blue bachelor buttons had sprung up everywhere. The world was "mud-lucious and puddle-wonderful"!

THE NEXT CHAPTER

Today I saw the orthodontist, Dr. Little Blood (honest, his name was Sanguinetti).
His office was in Levanto and I had very little waiting time. A roundish man with warm brown eyes and a very nice manner. He told me what the problems could be, what he would do, and that he would schedule a follow-up visit. He x-rayed the front teeth and it did not show any nerve damage. He then filed my chipped teeth and improved my bite.
He glued each two front teeth together to prevent any movement for a while. He never asked my name or wrote any info on me nor did he ask for any money.
I feel significantly better.
I have a scab forming over the center of my upper lip. I am thinking of drawing a mustache on it and tucking my hair into a Panama hat and lighting up a Havana for my next trip to the beach.

Medicine, Italian Style

TODAY I LOOK LIKE A FISH! Yesterday I fell on some uneven pavement and landed flat on my face with what felt like a mouthful of broken teeth. No broken nose this time. This happened at an autostrada stop not far from home. What followed was five hours of waiting ending in trauma.
I was taken in an ambulance with an attendant smelling of beer who threw some used latex gloves on the ground before getting into the ambulance, and me telling him to tell David where he was taking me. The ride was rough, the smell of the vehicle's exhaust filling the space while I was hanging on, not wanting to roll off the guerney while trying to hold an ice bag on my mouth.

At the ER, I filled out a paper with my name, address and birth date and waited for David to arrive with my documenti. Then, four hours of waiting in a small packed room watching ambulance after ambulance pull up to the door, Looney Tunes on the television, no water fountain, I began to lose it. But the worst was yet to come.

I was led into a room. The nurse never looked back to see me struggling out of the wheelchair. David had gone out briefly at that time. She had her back to me in the room the whole time.
David, thank god, came back then.

The doctor rushed in while talking to someone in the other room, sat at a table across the room, looked at my papers and said, "You have to see an orthodontist tomorrow."
David- "But she needs stitches!"
Doctor, angrily- "I'll get to it."
I said something too and he responded angrily.
He looks at my lip, tells me to lay down. Never gives me his name, never tells me what he is doing, and proceeds to sew up my lip while talking in a loud voice to someone who could have been in the other room. I began to cry and it hurt.
Doctor- "Don't cry. It's not bad"
Then I think he begins to use some liquid topical anesthesia but is still talking loudly and non-stop to others. At that point I pounded my legs and arms on the guerney and yelled- Be quiet!
Doctor- "Calm down, signora"
David, sitting across the room, "Too much noise!"
Me,crying and yelling, "I've been waiting four hours. I am stressed. You are being insensitive." I don't think he liked that I used the familiar verb form with him. He became sarcastic. If I made any noise when he stuck in the needle, he said, "Is that bad, dear? It's nothing. It doesn't hurt."
When he finally finished, I was shaking all over. David said that I needed some Ativan. The nurse got me a dose. All I wanted to do was get the hell out of there.
We left shortly after.
My upper lip is grossly swollen and sutured. One of my front teeth is badly chipped and the gums are numb. I don't know if the chipped tooth has moved; it doesn't seem to be loose.
Next adventure, Italian Dentistry!

Beach Life

After a few weeks of sweater weather on the mountain and a very churned up sea in Levanto, it has become very hot. We go to swim in the morning on the days we shop or in the late afternoon. The beach has become crowded and parking is very difficult on weekends, but the water is glorious and most people seem to stay on the beach- few in the water.
It is great for people watching; I've included some more photos- click the flickr link to see them.
We actually have the whole month of July without company, and are looking for some people to invite for lunch. Interested? It's been a bit on the quiet side here. We are reading, looking for some work to do, eating well, and watching the corn grow. We talk about taking some trips, but the heat, the crowds, the traffic... It always seems so much better at home.

The goats

I am still having difficulty uploading photos to my blog. For now, you can click on the link above my photo to see the pics on the net.
I have included a photo of my favorite goat this year. She has Personality and is not afraid of us. Her favorite resting place is on the road by the side of our little red car. I gave her and her little black kid some dried bread the other day and she followed me into the house to get more.
The other is my portrait of a favorite two years ago.
Today Sergio (the sexy farmer from up the road, photo included) came in his tractor to take one of Arturo's goats. He said to me- I'm not going to kill it. I said that I knew that from Margherita and hoped he wouldn't take my favorite. After getting a goat from the stall and tying its legs, he asked if it was my preferred goat. No, I said,it wasn't. As he put it in the back of his tractor, Arturo teased- He's going to eat it next week. Sergio came to me, put his thumb and first two fingers to his mouth, kissed them, and said- Ti giuro (I swear to you), I won't kill it. I'm not certain how my attachment to these animals is so well known, but it is true. I like the goats. They eat my flowers, they smell, and I like them.

Siamo Arrivati!

We arrived at Casa Campodonia four days ago and have spent those days in a fog of jet lag and extreme tiredness while working to ready the house for the workshop on Sunday. I trust there is light at the end of the proverbial tunnel(soon).

I am also having trouble accessing my blog here and I hope that I can work it out. Our very slow dial-up connection to the internet may take eons for photos to upload, but we shall see.

It is very warm, the sea is glorious- cool and clear. I am happy to see Margherita and Arturo, Dik and Sonny (the dogs), and the goats.

More to come, if all goes well.

PAINTJAM

This is too good and must be shared!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OIJtKxdRQzY

Women in Art

Arline forwarded this video to me and I, being so drawn to women's faces, loved it.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nUDIoN-_Hxs
The motion, the music, and the morphing, all captured me.

Trevor's Garden

We have a piece of land behind my studio that goes almost to the levee. Some years ago a friend built large planter boxes to grow flowers for drying. They have long been unplanted, and we have only attempted from time to time to keep the growth of weeds under some control .

Our friends have often heard us talk about Trevor, our "tenant" who lives in a fenced part of our yard that borders this land. He is a Vietnam vet who has made his home in our yard for almost 20 years. We have become friends and he and I have occasional conversations which tend to be short as he quickly becomes delusional. I have grown fond of him.

Over the years I learned that he had been very involved in the Homeless Garden Project; he chose the job of tending the compost because he could be alone and near all of the gardening books which he loved to read. The Project was forced to relocate and he refused to go to the new site.

Two years ago we planted our onion seeds from Italy in one of the boxes. Trevor added some other onions, some tomatoes, bell peppers, and numerous avocados that he sprouted. A white rose bush appeared and other flowers followed. I watered when I was here, but he also would fill a large water bottle repeatedly in the river and carry it up to his plants.

Last year we provided him with water and a hose. And his garden grew! He has collected beautiful pieces of driftwood to cradle many of his new plants and is now making sculptures with logs and sticks. He only pulls weeds when he needs the piece of earth it occupies. He puts plants outside of the boxes and hides them under others. The result is a beautiful chaos with graceful shapes rising above the greenery. It is color- full with flowers. When I went out to take photos he was in his "house"and began to sing but did not come out.

His space is about six feet by fifteen feet and under a very large pine tree. I haven't been inside for a long time since we closed off the access to our yard, but he has decorated it with shelves and books, plants and beautiful pieces of wood. He constructed a low roof with a tarp. He loves a little gray neighborhood cat that he named October Mouse. He said she sleeps under his beard. He once showed me the scratches on his fence that he watched a racoon make as it climbed. He loves the crows that gather in the tree. He would throw tennis balls that he found into our yard for our dog, Fred. He gives me little gifts from time to time- most recently a blooming proteus plant- at other times a jar of organic honey and a new Pizza My Heart t-shirt. He tried often to give me an avocado to plant. When I said that we had no room for an avocado tree and what could I do with it. He answered, "I don't know. Talk to it!"

He seems to like his life and, even though he does have money, would not choose four walls and a roof. At times, though, paranoia consumes him and he suffers deeply. Often we can hear him ranting and angry. He is an interesting, complex and terribly scarred man.

Still working it out

I wanted to include the newest woman in my studio with "Faces" below, but was not successful. the mechanics of blogging sometimes eludes me.
I expect to work it out eventually.

Faces

4:30 am I woke with this line in my head- "and faces like flowers float out of the ground".
Before falling asleep the night before, I was visited by the faces that I often see behind my closed eyes while still awake. I welcome this experience when it comes and wish they would stay longer. I don't remember when it began- I guess about 15 years ago. The first to come were the elders, old men with white beards whose faces would come very close and look directly at me. Then they would slowly recede and disappear. "No, come back. Stay.", my mind would call out to them. I wanted them to speak to me. They never did. They were all strangers, but one time I thought I saw the face of my dead brother, Charlie.
After some years I saw the first women. I remember that one of them reached out to touch my face but left before doing so. I did a painting of this. Recently groups have been arriving and seem to be milling about; they make less eye contact with me but seem to be involved with each other. Last night the visitors were children. They had very intense gazes and strong faces.
Once I read a novel in which a woman said- "you know the faces that sometimes come to you before you fall asleep...". that was the first time I heard of another who knew of this. I don't remember the title or the author and I wish I did so I could contact her.
My studio is filled with faces.

After poring over my book of e.e. cummings poetry, I found the line that I woke with.
It begins-
When faces like flowers float out of the ground
And breathing is wishing and wishing is having-
But keeping is downward and doubting and never
-it’s april (yes april;my darling) it’s spring!

And the last verse-
When more than was lost has been found has been found
And having is giving and giving is living-
But keeping is darkness and winter and cringing
-it’s spring (all our night becomes day)o, it’s spring!
All the pretty birds dive to the heart of the sky
All the little fish climb through the mind of the sea
(all the mountains are dancing;are dancing)

Julia Ward Howe's Mother's Day Proclamation- 1870

Julia Ward Howe's Mother's Day Proclamation - 1870

Arise then ... women of this day! Arise, all women who have hearts!
Whether your baptism be of water or of tears!

Say firmly:
"We will not have questions answered by irrelevant agencies,
Our husbands will not come to us, reeking with carnage,
For caresses and applause.
Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn
All that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy and patience.
We, the women of one country,
Will be too tender of those of another country
To allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs."

From the bosom of a devastated Earth a voice goes up with
Our own. It says: "Disarm! Disarm!
The sword of murder is not the balance of justice."
Blood does not wipe out dishonor,
Nor violence indicate possession.
As men have often forsaken the plough and the anvil
At the summons of war,
Let women now leave all that may be left of home
For a great and earnest day of counsel.
Let them meet first, as women, to bewail and commemorate the dead.
Let them solemnly take counsel with each other as to the means
Whereby the great human family can live in peace ...
Each bearing after his own time the sacred impress, not of Caesar,
But of God -
In the name of womanhood and humanity, I earnestly ask
That a general congress of women without limit of nationality,
May be appointed and held at someplace deemed most convenient
And the earliest period consistent with its objects,
To promote the alliance of the different nationalities,
The amicable settlement of international questions,
The great and general interests of peace.