Tuesday, October 7, 2008


My parents and I have been talking about what we're going to do for Christmas and whether we can foot the bill of flying me 3,500 miles across the country. Things are tight for us right now, but everyone's trying to not worry about it so much. I was looking through my pictures to pick one for today and these two reminded me that it might be another year without snow for me. Interestingly, these pictures are from Portland, during a snowstorm during January 7-8, 1980. Interesting because it NEVER snows in Portland-- just rain, lots and lots of rain and sometimes sleet. I'm pretty sure my chance of seeing snow in San Francisco is even slimmer, but we'll see. I'd like to go home and spend some time with the family that I think about all the time as I embark on new memory-driven projects in my studio. I'd also like to go to Indianapolis and Center Moriches to record what's there before both of those grandparents bundle up and move to new, smaller and more sensible places. Here's a poem I once wrote about my grandmother (Mimi) and the things in her house:


I am told I have her nose
And don’t I have her eyes
Her figure, her stature
Her dress size.

And look at my shoulders—
The way they are that way.
The color of my skin
Is like hers and so are my freckles.

And my name is like hers,
My hair is like hers was—
I never saw it before
She was already old—when I was born
She was 60, a pretty old dame.

Did you know she was born
The day after Christmas—
And did you know she died
On Valentines Day—
That it was her way.

Oh, and how can I catch the patterns
Off her wallpaper— with a lasso of twine,
With a drapery cord, with the drapes.
And what would she think of me now—
With a damn and a tumble down the stairs
With a comb, with an oh-Mara.

Did you know that when you are old
You don’t need to sleep so much—
That your nights are sleepless
That your days are wakeful and dreamy things.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Yes, but it's snowing today in Portland... December 14, 2008.

a really old lady (61 years)
sits after a walk in the snow
to the museum
and reads the musings
of gray and grey