Cathy Woo Personal Blog

Prayers for Peace

2008-08-30T12:51:00.000-07:00

My friend Daphne and I recently took another trip to Lincoln Park to commemorate special people in our lives.

May I be filled with Lovingkindness
May You be filled with Lovingkindness
May They be filled with Lovingkindness
May All Beings be filled with Lovingkindness

Uncle Bill's Memorial Service

2007-07-08T21:13:00.001-07:00

A Memorial Service was held for my Uncle Bill in the Portland area on Monday, June 18, 2007. As my way of participating here in Seattle, I set afloat a bouquet of flowers from Duwamish Head. Since that date is one of the especially high/low tides near the Vernal Equinox, I was concerned that the flowers would get caught on the beach sand at low tide. So I placed the flowers in the water at high tide to make sure they would float out along with the ebbing waters. It wasn't a fancy bouquet, but I think it was enough.

Here are Bill's three daughters Emma, Julia and Marion. His fourth daughter, their sister Saramay, passed away last year.

La Conner Photos

2007-05-17T23:12:00.000-07:00

I was in La Conner in early May to teach a workshop and had time to snap a few photos. I think I love photographing light as much as anything else.

Brand New Baby

2007-05-17T23:10:00.001-07:00

Alki Beach Walks Has Moved

2007-04-22T11:08:00.000-07:00

As of April 15, 2007, I have moved my Alki Beach Walks posts to a new blog "Alki Beach Walks"

Recently at the Beach

2007-04-11T17:30:00.000-07:00

Memorial Plaque

2007-04-04T21:06:00.000-07:00

"She is known as the Sea
my otherworldly lover.
Please take care of her."
-Andre Buck Nouni

A plaque embedded in the concrete in front of a bench in Anchor Park on Duwamish Head.

Walking Friends Kerrie and Don

2007-04-04T21:02:00.000-07:00

Kerrie with her dog Flora and Don with his dog Kelsey.

Sea Otter Hanky Panky

2007-04-04T20:49:00.000-07:00

Beach Construction

2007-04-02T19:43:00.000-07:00

Now that the weather is getting nicer, I am seeing more "beach construction."

Info on one of the bulkhead landmark posts.

Found Photos

2007-03-28T08:36:00.000-07:00

HUH?

2007-03-26T19:42:00.000-07:00

Last of the Daffodils

2007-03-22T10:28:00.000-07:00

OK. We've all seen way too many photos of spring daffodils. But these were so pretty I couldn't resist. I'm posting them to commemorate the end of the season.

Tulips are next.

Pass It On........

2007-03-22T10:22:00.000-07:00

I was the recipient of an unexpected Act of Kindness yesterday. (No these weren't from my husband.) It felt really, really good. And it reminded me that I can pass it on to someone else. Not the chocolates of course, but the Kindness. So I will.

Told You So.............

2007-03-22T10:14:00.000-07:00

Well, as I said............almost every year the spectacular display of blossoms on Tom's cherry tree is terminated by some kind of spring weather event. Sure enough, this year it was HAIL. We had a serious hail storm night before last - the hail was still in the yard when I got up this morning. The blossoms and the whole lovely display are done. But that means the new leaves are on their way and they will happily decorate the tree for at least the next six months.

Blown Blossoms

2007-03-20T18:20:00.000-07:00

This manhole cover lies directly beneath the cherry tree mentioned in yesterday's post. Sure enough, we had heavy rain today and this is the result. The cherry tree is now past its prime and on its way out.

It's My Lucky Day!

2007-03-19T19:05:00.000-07:00

Those of you who have read my blog know that I made a decision a while back not to pick up the strange items I come across during my morning walks. Well, this is what I spotted this morning. And my question to you is, "Do you think I picked it up?" Damn right I did. And it is in my pocket this very moment.

And here is something else I came across. It was a headboard and a footboard for a twin bed, and it was made of the most gorgeous birdseye maple I've seen in a while. They were lying in the wet grass on someone's parking strip. There was a big sign on them that said "Free." Do you think I picked them up? Damn right I did. And they are leaning against the wall in this room - happily protected from the rain that has been falling all day. The rain that would have completely ruined that beautiful wood. Yes, wood. The entire thing has not one particle of particle board in it that I can see. It is the real deal. My guess is that somebody didn't really know what they were trying to get rid of.

I spotted this on the beach this weekend. Very odd. I'm not sure what it is because I didn't want to get close enough to find out. I'm wondering if it is something from outer space.

This is one of the most beautiful cherry trees in our neighborhood. It belongs to Tom who lives down the street. It must be close to 80 feet tall. Every year it produces the most spectacular show of blossoms. And almost every year, before I know it, a spring storm has blown through and thrown all the blossoms onto the sidewalk and into the gutter. I always have to remind myself to savor the sight before it all goes to heck. It is so easy to take that tree for granted. I bet it doesn't bloom for more than a week.

Another view of the peace arch (see below). I have been noticing it every day now. I feel sort of like Monet observing the same haystack over and over again. Sometimes the "arch" is lying on it's side. Sometimes it is bobbing in the water because of the high tide. This morning a seagull was standing under it toying with a flapping flounder. I got my camera out to take a photo. But before I could click the shutter, the gull swallowed the flounder whole. You could see the fish wriggling as it went down the bird's throat! EEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!

Our first Tee shirt weather. Everyone was out. It's a wonder they weren't all in bikinis.

Finally, I have to note the passing of one of our Alki walking regulars. Although we are all characters, Charlie was right up there as most eccentric. For many years he would walk right by me, refusing to make eye contact. I finally stopped trying to say hello to him. But recently, he had started to acknowledge my presence with sort of strange remarks about the weather. The last time I saw him he stopped me and said, "How do you know my name is Charlie?"

Charlie was in his mid seventies and had an alcohol "problem" in his past. He had informed us that he didn't date because he couldn't afford it. He lived alone but ate lunch at the Chelan Cafe every day. When they noticed that he had missed a few meals, they went and checked his apartment. There he was lying in bed, dead. They say he had suffered a massive heart attack. Goodbye Charlie!

Who Would Shoot an Innocent Bird?

2007-03-14T08:46:00.002-07:00

I came upon this bird in the middle of the sidewalk one morning on one of my walks. It made me sick.

Starfish(es)

2007-03-12T19:54:00.000-07:00

I found this poor starfish stranded way up on the sidewalk. Most of his legs were chewed up. My guess is that some sea gull was dining on him for breakfast. So, knowing that under the right circumstances his legs could grow back, I picked him up and flung him as far into the water as I could.

I suppose some would complain that I was interfering with Nature again. But I just didn't have the heart to turn my back on him and walk away.

Here's another type of starfish I found further along the beach.

Beach Peace Arch

2007-03-11T10:44:00.000-07:00

Tolo Travis

2007-03-09T20:34:00.000-08:00

Look!

2007-03-09T20:24:00.000-08:00

Every year I am so thrilled when the first daffodils bloom. For me, it is the official end of Winter. But every year, when I see their dried up brown dead heads hanging in the breeze, I realize that I never truly took the time to savor their blossoms. I always seem to be too busy and too distracted to even take five minutes out of my day to enjoy them. In recent years, I have made a point of doing more than walking by hurriedly. I actually sit down with them in my garden and enjoy their presence. I appreciate their color and am grateful for their wonder. Flowers do become more beautiful the longer I look at them. This way, when the beauty of the daffodils is gone, I have no regrets.

ACT Theatre's Young Playwrights Program

2007-03-04T16:16:00.000-08:00

Here's a photo of our son Elliott participating in an after performance discussion of his play "Paradise Lost" at ACT Theatre in Seattle.

Rod Sakrison

2007-02-24T16:46:00.000-08:00

Rod was an Alki neighbor, environmentalist and musician who loved the beach.
NO MOURNING FOR ME
Like a lyrical light show
The pale morning light
Dances across the ridges
Chasing a mad-cap paint brush.

Deep green valleys
Point to hidden rivers
Snow white peaks rub their eyes
Turned pink from sleep.

Bouncing across the waters
Darting between the ferry boats
Gliding over the beaches
Eyeing a mountain goat.

I'm going to fly over
Those Olympic Mountains
In my red round sphere
When I'm outa here.

I'll look out
On a carpet of clouds
And lay my head down
On a pillow of dreams.
------Rod Sakrison, January 6, 2005

MY CENOTE*
As I lie in ICU
I heard them saying,
"He won't make it.
We give him a few days."

But I was floating
Just below the surface
Of a circular Mexican pool
And I knew I had work to do.

Deep green almost black
Like a forest shadow.
I felt my soul
Deep below me.

I wasn't afraid
Or scared to death.
Either way I was safe,
Warm and free in my faith.

Since then people say:
"You were tough.
And you were stubborn.
And you wouldn't give in."

But that's only half true.
I lived by feeling
Weak and thin
And not giving in.
------Rod Sakrison, February 16,2005

*(A "Cenote" is a deep pool of water)

Stormy Day

2007-02-19T16:25:00.000-08:00

I love these stormy days.

Attack Eagle

2007-02-19T16:10:00.000-08:00

This bald eagle looks fairly small in this photo but that is only because it took me a bit of time to get my camera out. The bird had just dive bombed me and my dog Cosmo. Have you ever had a bald eagle fly no more than a few feet over your head? Talk about startling.

I think really he was eyeing my dog as a breakfast morsel. I've heard that eagles do eat small animals. I'm glad that Cosmo was on a leash. I have a nightmare vision of standing by helplessly as the eagle lifts off with my dog in his talons. Sort of a Wizard of Oz moment - you know, the scene with the flying monkeys. I've just got to tamp down my imagination.

It reminded me of a time a couple of years ago when my dog Magic and I had to chase an eagle away from a gaggle of screaming Canadian geese as the eagle attempted to take off with one of the goslings. Some bystander then lectured me about not interfering with nature.

Findings

2007-02-19T16:04:00.000-08:00

Another discovery during my daily walk. It's almost as if someone is leaving these things out for me as part of a scavenger hunt. In the old days I would have picked this up. But I ended up with too big a pile of stuff and it just collected dust. So nowadays, much as I am tempted, I leave these things alone for others to see.

Spring Sprang While I Was Gone

2007-02-18T14:19:00.000-08:00

So I finally got out for a quick walk yesterday - after nearly a week in bed with the flu. It's jolting how quickly things change in such a short amount of time. The crocuses - cro·cus [ krṓkəss ] (plural cro·cus·es or cro·ci [ krṓ sī, krṓkee ]) - had popped up while I was gone. Maybe no big deal to you. But to me, it means I am over the hump of the winter blues. I can take a deep breath, relax, and know that spring will be here soon.

Went to the nursery a second time to buy a daphne odora plant but they aren't in yet. I have planted at least three of those in my yard over the years, and not one has made it. I just don't have the right touch I guess. But I'm going to keep trying.

Who Did This?

2007-02-18T14:08:00.000-08:00

Here's another one of these occasional beach mysteries. These two vertical sticks almost blend well enough into all the other driftwood so that it is easy to walk by them them without notice. And they were overpowered by the spectacular morning sunrise in the distance.

I have to admit that a small part of me didn't look too closely at first and just assumed that, "This is a natural arrangement put together by the waves." But then, my more together self overruled and said, "Naw, it's obviously a human hand at work." Yeah, I guess so. There is just no way this could have happened by coincidence.

Daniel D. Woo

2007-02-15T10:49:00.002-08:00

For those of you who haven't met my husband.

Andy Goldsworthy

2007-02-11T13:59:00.000-08:00

Being sick is certainly no fun, but it does have the advantage of slowing me down and forcing me to focus on things that might otherwise get away. I've had a video about Andy Goldworthy's environmental sculpture on my shelf for a couple of days. Not being able to do anything but lie in bed because of the flu, I gave myself permission to take the time to watch it.

At first I wanted to post a photo of one of his pieces for people who aren't familiar with his work, but since I'm not allowed to post others' copyrighted work here, I can't. So if you don't know his work, but want to, you can find him on Google: Andy Goldsworthy

I don't know anyone who makes art the way Andy Goldworthy does. Outside, in all kinds of weather, looking for what nature has to offer him as raw materials. Basically he creates art out of things like piles of rocks or patterns of petals. The kinds of things that kids would use but on a much more sophisticated level. Then he documents the destruction of his sculptures by the weather or the effects of time.

When you see his work out in Nature, you know that someone has been there and then thoughtfully left his human mark in a way that an artist would appreciate. He injects the basic technical elements of art - line, color and shape on whatever he finds. A pile of rocks becomes a huge cone. A pool of water becomes a disc colored yellow with dandelion heads. I guess to me that is how he transforms the randomness of nature into art. But like a good artist, he does it in a way that communicates a message beyond the technique.

When I first became aware of his work, I thought it very odd. But I have to admit that it has mystery and power and an irresistible attraction. During the movie - titled "Rivers and Tides" by the way - I kept trying to put into words why this kind of art captured my attention. How does he make his work more than "just a pile of rocks?" Why is it more than merely an exploitation of the landscape, more than using the land as just a source of art supplies?

I finally got a clue when I heard him say, "I am so amazed at times that I am actually alive..." So I began to think that there is some sort of spirituality thing going on in the mix of it all. That kind of spirituality some people find when they are engaged in Nature. The sort of spirituality that is beyond words. The feeling you get when you are walking the beach alone on a windy day. And you are amazed that you are actually alive. Looking at his sculptures reminds me of those moments.

The video closes with a shot of powder snow drifting through the air. When the camera pans over, it turns out that the artist has been throwing the snow up to where the wind catches it. Is that floating show really meant to be an art piece? An "art happening?" Is it spirituality? Art and spirituality at the same time? When little kids throw snow up in the air, it's no big deal. No one would think it profound. So just because an artist does it, does that make it art?

Everything seems so confused. But it doesn't change the fact that I think Andy Goldsworthy's work is beautiful and entrancing.

National Watercolor Society

2007-02-11T13:45:00.001-08:00

This photo was taken about 10 years ago when both my friend, Jeannie Grisham, and I had paintings accepted into the National Watercolor Society annual juried show in Southern California. The show usually attracts around 1,000 entries and that year only accepted about 70 of them. I have to admit that being included in this show, and being accepted as a Signature member of the group was entirely unexpected but totally thrilling - a highlight of my life for sure. It was a turning point in my career as it gave my work nationaal visibility and credibility.

Here's a photo of the painting that was exhibited in the show. It doesn't look like a traditional watercolor does it? Thanks so much to NWS and their jurors for being willing to go outside the box for their paintings.

Morning Eagle

2007-02-08T17:04:00.000-08:00

Chris Westygaard

2007-02-05T18:00:00.000-08:00

I love the title of this painting: "Bad Marriage Road Trip - New Mexico" My imagination kicks into gear with that one. Does it bring up a "Thelma and Louise" type of road trip?

I love the painting as much as its title. Far away mountains and blue sky. To me it communicates silence and solitude rather than sadness or anger.

Anyway, the painting was done by a new walking/artist friend who is also, like me, originally from California. Chris and I have a lot in common. Besides the painting and walking we are both investigating meditation. She is way ahead of me and has established a long term practice. I'm still struggling with showing up regularly.

Here is a photo portrait of Chris. I love this photo.

PYRAMID - BARBARA SOWINSKI

2007-02-05T08:18:00.000-08:00

This painting, "Central Park" - which I love - was done by a friend of mine who lives in Pennsylvania. We met around 1996 in Fullerton, California, when each of us had a painting accepted into the National Watercolor Society's annual juried show. We met at the reception and just started chatting about our common interest in Robert Motherwell.

Since that time we have been communicating mostly by email. It's interesting to have a long time friend that you have only talked to in person once for maybe an hour. But it has turned out not to make any difference.

It is so much fun to have shared our opinions about the meaning of art and the goings on in the art world. Of course, we have also shared a lot of personal stuff over the years, but that is going to stay personal.

HOMELESS

2007-02-04T20:15:00.000-08:00

A lot of people think that walking the same route every day gets boring. NOT SO!!!!!! for me. Every day is different: different weather, different people,and different incidents.

Same thing applies to today, a Sunday. This morning was quiet mostly because there was no commuter traffic whizzing by. Also because the clouds were hanging low and there was no wind or waves. So the scream of a fire truck coming at us down the hill jarred me out of my meditation on the water and waves. Down it came and stopped right in the parking lot of my turn around spot - the "Salmon House."

My mind immediately went to the scuba divers who are always active in that area on the weekends early in the morning - even in the winter. No matter what the temperature or weather. I know there has been at least one drowning there in the past year. From a distance I could see two divers in the water and a few standing around on the beach. "Uh oh," I thought.

More errant mind speculations. In fact someone had called 911 to report a man asleep on a nearby park bench. I could see him curled up facing away from the beach with his parka hood pulled up over his head. Since his bench was on my usual route I guess I could have walked right by him. I'm certainly nosy enough to want to know what was going on. But I detoured around and gave him lots of space. The firemen got out their medical bags and went over to attend to him. The firemen took off his jacket and shirt. He already had a large bandage wrapped around his left arm. It looked like they were giving him some kind of injection and trying to talk to him. By then you could tell he was in serious distress because he was moaning and rocking rapidly back and forth.

I didn't stick around to find out what was really going on. But as I started back in the other direction, the ambulance came up the road. I suppose they were going to take him to Harbor View Medical Center. All around me was the beauty of the morning - the broad expanse of sky and Elliott Bay before us.

I don't know if this kid - he looked like a very young man after they got his clothes off - had spent the entire night on that bench. I don't know if he was homeless. We have a lot of homeless people living in this neighborhood. They are everywhere. They hide in the parks and sleep on the beach. In one of our public elementary schools more than one in ten of the students are homeless. I know that many are not drug addicts or alcoholics but just people down on their luck. There are more than 700,000 homeless people living in America right now. That is almost one in four of us.

So, yes today distinguished itself from all the others. It will be interesting to see what happens tomorrow.

PS. I saw "Don" today. See the story below. I hadn't seen him in about two months. He gave me a big smile but clearly had no idea who I was.

SWAN LAKE

2007-02-03T17:58:00.000-08:00

I went to see Pacific Northwest Ballet's performance of Swan Lake at McCaw Hall this afternoon. They wouldn't let me take photos inside the performance hall, of course, but I was allowed to shoot this one of the lobby during intermission.

Superb is a good word to describe the experience. Everything was fabulous - the dancing, the costumes, the music, the set, the story. Way beyond what I expected.

If you get a chance to attend a PNB performance, I say "do it."

Diana Fairbanks

2007-02-01T20:19:00.000-08:00

I walked much later today and ran into one of my favorite friends, who happens to be a neighbor and who also walks Alki Beach on a regular basis. In fact, she has been walking it a lot longer than I have. Diana has lived in this neighborhood for many years and bought a beautiful house when this area was still a sleepy, quiet, out of the way beach community.

Diana is one of the most accomplished and multi-talented people I know. At the top of her list is her work as a fine artist. Diana has exhibited her work in numerous shows and galleries throughout the State of Washington. She also designed and painted the landscape mural on the wall of our local Sun Fish Restaurant.

Diana has a PhD from the University of Washington, is the author (along with Mike Sedam) of the fabulous book "The Backroads of Washington" and is the owner of Alki Image Specialists.

Diana will be exhibiting her paintings at Sapphire in Edmonds beginning February 15.

Here is one of her paintings:

"Strings" by Judy Buskirk

2007-01-31T11:20:00.000-08:00

My postings about friends of mine who passed on last year resonated with a number of readers. An artist friend of mine, Judy Buskirk sent this story to me:

"The passing of friends, especially art friends, is so meaningful to us.

I met a young woman named "Vita" many years ago when her mother wanted us to meet, after she read an article in the local paper about my illustrating children's books. Vita was a talented high school student, very frail, afflicted with what I would learn at her memorial, Marfan's disease. She showed me her portfolio and jewelry creations, all very impressive.

Over several years, we corresponded. She invited me to become a member of the Peninsula Art League, which I finally did this summer. When I worked for Daniel Smith, I hired her as an assistant, and she drove to my home after her classes at Tacoma Community College. We would work side by side and chat. It was about this time that she withdrew from the public, probably because of the response she received at TCC, since she looked different from others and wasn't very mobile.

I guess she decided to live life more privately then, and simply enjoy a delayed adolescence with her many friends, going on shopping sprees, having costume parties, most everything involving pizza.
She continued to grow in her artwork, and money she earned from sales went to her Foundation, which she created years ago to aid high school students who showed talent in the arts.

She died in November of this year, at 24. I did attend her memorial, and learned so much about this surprising young woman. Along with a slide presentation of her hilarious adventures with friends and family, many spoke of her life. What an honor it was to have known her. How strange it is how one meets the "important people" in one's life. In Chaos theory, there are "strange attractors". An example is that central point where a pendulum crosses after moving in a non-repeating figure eight.

And "Vita" means "life"."

Black Beret

2007-01-29T17:22:00.000-08:00

I can't tell you how many mysterious and wonderful things I have found during my walks. Last winter, nearly a year ago, I found a lovely black beret on the sidewalk. I picked it up and took it home. Instead of being made of felt, the beret is actually knit in a fine, tight garter stitch. The shaping is made with "decreases" that form swirls which end in a small circle of stitches at the top of the hat. I bet at one time there was a button or stem decorating those stitches.

I can tell that the beret was much loved because it has been mended in three places. But whoever repaired it couldn't sew very well. The mending stitches are noticeably ragged and made with thread that doesn't match - dark grey instead of black.

I could have just left the hat there on the sidewalk, but I had the idea that no one else would take care of it as well as I would. I didn't need another hat to wear. In fact, when I got home I put it on the head of one of my teddy bears and it has been sitting there ever since. I also hoped that somehow I would find its owner. I thought of putting up a "Found" sign but never did.

Well, this morning as I was finishing up my walk I passed an elderly gentleman who was wearing what seemed to be a fairly new black beret. Immediately I thought of the beret I had at home. Was it his? Should I stop him and ask him? Would he think I was crazy? I just kept walking. Next time I see him, I may say something. I've seen him before and will see him again.

But, if it is your beret, let me know and I will return it to you.

My Sixth Sense

2007-01-29T11:03:00.000-08:00

Here is a snapshot of my view this morning. The blue-grey color in the photo is actually from this morning's frozen fog. Fog that kept the sidewalks coated with ice. Fog that caused horns from invisible ferries to blast us with noise.

My regular walks by the beach do a lot more than keep me in shape physcially. In addition, they help me develop my sixth sense. It's not something I have to work at. If I do the walks, it just happens.

Rob Whitesides Woo

2007-01-17T12:04:00.000-08:00

My brother-in-law, shamanistic musician Rob Whitesides Woo.

Barbara and her cattle dog Casey

2007-01-17T11:53:00.001-08:00

Here is a photo of my walking friend Barbara. For many years I would see her down on the beach while walking her own little sheltie "Tillie." At the same time she would walk her neighbor's dog "Star," another larger sheltie. Those dogs were so mellow that it was easy for her to handle two at once.

Now that Tillie has passed on, Barbara has a new cattle dog named Casey. Casey is very sweet, beautiful and frisky.

It appears that Barbara, like me, gets out walking every day regardless of the weather. Today is bitterly cold, although the snow has retreated.

This morning Barbara and I were the only walkers to be seen on the beach.

SNOW AGAIN

2007-01-16T07:57:00.000-08:00

I can't remember a time when we have been so continously inconvenienced by the snow. Yes, it is beautiful, but.............

The kids are home from school again today. Because of last week's storm, the weekend, yesterday's holiday and today's "Snow Day," they have been off for six days. It's like the Christmas break never ended.

No walk this morning. The footing is just too treacherous. Last week's snow has turned to slippery ice and is hidden under this morning's accumulation.

"LOVE"

2007-01-16T07:35:00.000-08:00

This is one of those unexpected and mysterious moments that often occurs during my walks. I never know how these things appear, why they are there or who creates them.

Because of the location of the shells on the seawall and the orientation of the sidewalk where I was standing, I couldn't get a good angle for a photo. I had to take the photo upside down, but I knew I could rotate it in Photoshop. I did the best I could and I'm sure you get the idea.

I assume the shells got swept away in the high tide later in the day but the message didn't.

The Bird Man of Alki Beach

2007-01-16T07:09:00.000-08:00

This isn't a very good photo, but it was the best I could do. I have started to carry a camera phone on my walks in order to capture moments that up until now I have only described in words. Carrying a real camera has always seemed like too muoch of a hassle while I am doing my morning walks. But I have always carried my cell phone. Now that technology has improved to the point where the phones have cameras built into them, taking photos is more doable. The only catch is that the quality isn't that good. It's still pretty cool.

While I did want to get a photo of the Bird Man, I didn't want to ask him to pose. He seems to want no contact with people. So I tried to see if I could use my cell phone camera to secretly photograph him.

I have seen the Bird Man for several years now but know nothing about who he is. What I do know is that he is always alone and never talks to anyone. He walks along the beach with a little pouch of bird seen slung over his shoulder. Whenever the birds see him coming they start to swirl around in the air - following him as he walks. They perch on his shoulder, arms and hands. This cloud of birds moves along the beach as the Bird Man walks over to his usual bird feeding spot. When he is done visiting with the birds, the Bird Man dumps out his pouch of seed, leaving a pile of seeds and a crowd of happy birds.

Yesterday was the first day I noticed that the pigeons are now flying in pairs. Perhaps a subtle, first sign that Spring will again follow Winter this year.

2007-01-11T21:37:00.000-08:00

Saramay's Passing/Uncle Bill's Passing

2007-01-11T20:41:00.000-08:00

On the morning of December 27, 2006 a memorial service was held for my cousin Saramay Sandoval in Tucson Arizona. As our way of participating, my friend Daphne Barbee (of Honolulu, Hawaii) and I went out to Lincoln Park in Seattle and put bouquets of flowers in the water.

_________________________________
UNCLE BILL'S PASSING

I didn't know my Uncle Bill very well. But we had struck up a correspondence in the last year that I really enjoyed. I especially liked his sense of humor, exuberance and range of interests. He sure could tell a good story.

One of the last mailings I received from him was a "recycled" Thanksgiving card. The greeting and note from the previous sender had been blocked out with "whiteout" - a lot of it!

It was a joke between us. Last summer I had sent him a card because I thought he would enjoy the painting of the Pike Place Market on the front. Unfortunately, on the inside of the card was a "Merry Christmas" wish - and this particular day happened to be the middle of July. I just crossed out the "Merry Christmas," wrote a quick note and mailed the card out. I never thought anything of it.

Imagine my surprise when Bill responded with delight that I had discovered a way for him to recycle all the cards other people had sent him and to save him money at the same time. I began receiving previously used cards from him with all the original writings whited out. I have to admit, I thought it was pretty original of him. And I didn't mind at all being the recipient of "used" cards.

It's a small thing but in all the letters I received from him I don't think he ever crossed out a mistake. Even recently he always used white out to correct his errors.

I was having difficulty reading Bill's handwriting as his eyesight deteriorated. But I really appreciated the effort he made to write to me anyway. I didn't really care that I couldn't understand everything. I looked forward to his little stories and quirky comments. I have saved what I got from him - all of it. And I will keep it in my files. I don't get many letters these days, since everyone seems to use email. There is something so tangible and personal about receiving a piece of writing in someone's own hand.

Uncle Bill spent his career as an engineer after he graduated from Stanford but took up painting later in life. He worked hard at it and became pretty good. I wish he and I could have had more conversations about painting. I'm sure they would have been interesting. He sent me a photo of one. I will see if I can dig it out of my files and post it.

I will miss my Uncle Bill and I will miss his letters.

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BABY SEAL

I saw the baby seal on my walk in the rain early this morning. Unfortunately, it was dead. It's body was rolling in the incoming surf. It must have died recently because his little body was still limp. Dogprints in the sand.

The experience made me sick. My reaction reminds me once again how emotionally raw I am.

Well, the Seattle Parks Department can now take down all the pedestrian barriers, warning tape and informational signs about not disturbing the seals that have been up these past weeks.

That little seal hung in there for nearly 2 months. I guess we all thought that he was old enough now that he was going to make it on its own. Fortunately or not, that little stretch of beach had become his "safe spot." But in reality the beach is in an area that is so heavily utilized by pedestrians and dogs that it was only a matter of time before "something" happened. It really wasn't a safe place. In the end, I'm not sure our protecting him really helped.

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"Red Braille"

A while ago my eye doctor told me I would be blind in three years. He said I had an unusual type of glaucoma that wasn't treatable. "Come back in a year and we will see how things are going." He was very matter of fact and cold. Not at all comforting or supportive. He didn't seem to care about the enormity of his statements to me. He certianly must have understood the consequences of what he was saying because it was his job to take care of people's vision. So the only conclusion I could come to was that he didn't really care.

I spent a year trying to figure out how I was going to live the rest of my life without my eyesight. Of course, being a visual artist, my sight was the sense I relied on the most to do my work. And every day I was aware that my vision was deteriorating. I tried to be grateful for every day that I could see anything at all.

When I went back a year later for my check up they had me sit in front of a large white disc. Every time I saw a small light flicker I was to press a button. Little lights blinked on and off all over the disc. I wasn't worried so much about the lights I could see as much as the ones I was sure I couldn't.

Sitting in the waiting room was agony. The past year had been agony. And I had mostly suffered in silence. The thought of going blind was so horrific that I had been unable to share it with anyone.

I passed the vision test with flying colors. Or, I should say my eyes did. It had all been some kind of terrible misdiagnosis. A year long nightmare. The doctor never apologized for scaring me. Come back in five years he said.

Well, I now suspect that that eye doctor is a sociopath. I wonder how many other people he has scared like that. I've been mistreated by enough professionals now to know that such behavior really isn't all that unusual.

But the experience did motivate me to think about what it would be like to learn how to read in Braille. It would have helped me read even though I wouldn't have been able to see paintings any more.

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MY FRIEND BRIAN

Another one of my friends died this week. Brian was a "walking friend." I never knew his last name or that much about him. But I would see him walking the beach in the afternoons when most other people were at work. He was much older than I was, and retired. He was always so well dressed - often in a proper wool sweater and a shirt with button down collar. When I first met him many years ago he was what I would call dapper. I use that term because it fits his Irish personality.

Brian grew up in Ireland. He loved to tell me stories about riding his bicycle for an entire day across the Irish countryside just to watch a special soccer match. Then, he and his friends would ride back home to a hot bowl of soup. I don't think Brian was well off when he was young. But it sounds like he had fun.

At some point - I don't know when - he moved to the New York area - where he worked, married and raised a family. After retirement, he followed his boys out to Seattle.

Many times I would encounter him walking with his wife Mary. Mary didn't have a very good memory and never knew who I was. She also had very beautiful and very sensitive "Irish" skin. So she couldn't stay out long. Brian seemed very devoted to her and was always proud to introduce her to me. Over the years we talked about his work, his boys and his dogs. These conversations always occurred when we bumped into each other during walks. Frankly, Brian talked a lot and even though I was very interested, it often got to be a bit much. It was hard to disengage because he was so enthusiastic. He seemed to be so grateful to have someone who would listen to him.

I found out about Brian's death from the newspaper's obituary page. I hadn't seem him for maybe two years and had been wondering what had happened to him. I wouldn't have noticed the announcement at all except that I spotted his face looking out from the page along with all the other people who had died.

I guess Brian had been living up at St. Vincent's old folks home because that is where they held his memorial service yesterday.

I thought for a while that I might go up and attend his service, although his family wouldn't know who in the heck I was. I decided to go for a walk along the beach instead - in Brian's honor. His obituary said that the one thing Brian really liked to do every day was to take his six mile walk along the beach. I could attest to that. And since that was the only way I ever knew Brian, taking a walk seemed like the most respectful thing I could do.
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FRANCINE PORAD

My dear friend, poet and artist, Francine Porad passed away last week. Francine wanted to be remembered first an always as a committed wife and mother of her six children.

In addition to her family activities, Francine was an internationally renowned haiku poet and painter. She was funny, brilliant and prolific. She was my mentor and confidante. I am so grateful that I had a chance to hear her stories. In the past few years Francine and I would get together for lunch and a good chat. I would pick her up at her apartment and we would head to the nearby California Pizza restaurant. Over tortilla soup she and I would share stories of our lives. I told her things I never trusted with anyone else. She told me things about herself that I never suspected.

Often, after we ate, we would go back to her apartment where we would eat candy and she would show me her work. Up until the end she was still painting and entering shows. We would talk about what paintings she should exhibit and how to frame them. The week she passed away she was scheduled to exhibit a painting in our Women Painters of Washington Annual Membership Show.

I met Francine over 25 years ago when we were both on the Board of tne Northwest Watercolor Society. At the time, I was a new painter who was trying to master the techniques of traditional watercolor. Francine, who had been painting far longer than me, expressed a more adventurous and experimental viewpoint. Her paintings were abstract, vibrant and energetic. She was the lone voice encouraging our group to enlist show jurors who would be open to accepting nontraditional paintings into our shows.

While I wasn't yet ready for abstract work myself, I listened to Francine's encouragement to think in new ways and to stretch my vision. Over time and with her urging, my natural curiosity and willingness to take risks led my work into new areas.

There is nothing more important to me than a good friendship. But developing a friendship takes time. And I don't seem to have much of it these days. However, I will never regret the many days I took off to drive to visit my friend Francine.

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WALKING FRIENDS (DON)

September 21, 2006, 9:51pm
My "walking friends" are people I have seen for years early in the morning during my walks along the beach. By now I know most of their names - at least the friendly ones. There are still one or two who refuse to look me in the eye or who scowl suspiciously.

This morning I ran into my walking friend Don at Loreen's Bubble Tea/Espresso stand. Our paths cross maybe once a month, but sometimes it is a much longer time between our chats. By then I have forgotten his name as well as his dog's name. He's forgotten my name too.

Don was a motorcycle cop for many years until he was injured in a major traffic accident and had to go on disability. Nowadays his chief activity is walking his dog and being friendly. Don says he lost half his brain in the accident - the bad half that was mean and angry.

Every time I talk to him he explains that he has lost his memory. That he can't remember people or names any more. That he can't remember me either. So we go through the same routine of reintroducing ourselves and commiserating about our poor memories. I always call his dog "the one who is a character in that Fraser TV series." And he says, "yes, Kelsey." Then he asks my dog's name again.

Today he made an interesting observation. He said he never lies anymore. He realizes there is no point. Since he can't remember what he tells people, he can never keep his stories straight. Don may have a bad memory, but he is not dumb.

He also said that he has never been happier in his life. He doesn't worry any more about anything. He can't remember what he is supposed to worry about.

And, today, like at the end of every one of our conversations, he reminds me that the next time I see him he won't know who I am.

He says that with a big smile. I love seeing Don in the morning.

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BABY SEAL

September 21 paintings and doings
I experience something new every morning when I walk the beach, even though I take the same route day after day.

Right now, part of the beach has been blocked off by the Parks Department to protect a baby seal who has been resting on the sand during high tide. Many people don't know that the mother seals leave their babies on the beach while they hunt. The babies are protected from hungry sea lions in the water who are ready to pounce while the mother seals are distracted hunting for breakfast. That strategy works fine in the wild where there are no people to interfere. Here in Seattle, however, when walkers see a baby seal on the beach, they think it is stranded and try to rescue it. They don't know that if a baby seal is touched by a human, the mother will abandon it.

So, whenever a "stranded baby seal" is reported, the Parks Department comes out and puts up barricades and signs to keep people out.

The past week I have been peering over the bulkhead railing looking for the baby seal who has been happily rolling around or flapping his flippers. Unfortunately, this morning, what I saw was fresh human footprints in the sand, a flipper trail, and no baby seal. Well, I can speculate as to what happened I guess.

I'm learning that my speculations are almost always wrong.

As of April 15, 2007, I have moved my Alki Beach Walks posts to a new blog "Alki Beach Walks"