FIRST FLIGHTS

Books about adventurous women and girls caught my attention when I was young. Anne of Green Gables, Nancy Drew, Mary Poppins, and Jane Eyre all led me to think that nothing was impossible. I often told stories to myself with me as the main adventuresome character. It didn't occur to me in college that almost all the books I read were written by men. I assumed that women could do as well and found Virginia Woolf, Jane Austin and the Bronte sisters to be my examples.

Recently I picked up Sara Ackerman's The Uncharted Flight of Olivia West, an historical fiction novel about the Dole Air Race, a real event that happened in 1927. I had never heard of the race from San Francisco to Hawaii. Though Amelia Earhart didn't participate, her story and those of other female pilots at the time became an inspiration for the author. No one had charted the navigation for pilots to cross the Pacific and land on the islands in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. The navigators needed to use sextants and stay awake for over 20 hours to stay on what they hoped was the course to arrive on the islands. The race included thirteen planes, their pilots, and navigators, all men, since women pilots were excluded. 

The fictional Olivia West learned to fly after a childhood with her fisherman father who taught her about navigating the ocean. West used those tools to navigate the plane she flew to Hawaii. In the actual race, only two of the thirteen planes made it to the islands. Some had mechanical difficulties and returned to San Francisco, a couple crashed and the pilots were killed, and some flew off and were never heard from again, including the one plane with a woman passenger on it. Not a very satisfying ending to what had been heralded as a great race.

I had a hard time at first reading the story. Writers of historical fiction have been following a trend of writing two stories at once. In Ackerman's case, she alternates chapters between the original story of the race, and a later story of a young woman who finds West's plane in Hawaii. I kept losing the momentum of each story. I stopped and started again and read each story separately. A far better story read as two!

The Housekeepers by Alex Hay reminded me of an "Ocean's Eleven" film, with the main characters from "below the stairs" of a manor house, plotting to rob the house of everything during a huge party, hoping to leave it completely bare as a statement for and about the manor's owners. There are lots of twists in the story about who is related to whom in the story.

Two more books to recommend: Moiya McTier, an astrophysicist, wrote An Autobiography of Our Galaxy, the Milk Way, as a way to explain the creation of our universe through the "eyes" of the Milky Way, a sardonic narrator. Alice McDermott's Absolution is a tale about young wives who move with their husbands to Vietnam as the U.S. becomes more and more involved in the civil war there. Her portrayal of life in a unfamiliar country reminds me of our time in Tokyo.

Check out the Dole Air Race here:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dole_Air_Race 

TWO QUESTIONS

This week brought up two questions about life. What can I be so that I will be remembered with fondness? And how do we make a marriage last a long time?

Someone I know died unexpectedly recently from an aggressive cancer and treatment. The outpouring of shock from friends has been wonderful and sad to read. She was one of those larger-than-life personalities who gave freely of her time and attention. The expression of shock and love is heartening to read, but bittersweet that she will not read the words herself.

I first met her at a calligraphy workship in 2016. She was originally from New Jersey and still carried that familiar accent when she spoke. She showed both her humor and interest in other people when she  connected with each person in a room. Since her passing, the two words I hear most frequently about her was her kindness and her cookies. She would bring food to every function and was well-known for her imaginative designs on cookies. Though it is sad to lose her so early in her life, I thought about how well-remembered she will be. Then, I thought about how we all would like to be remembered. There are some people I know who have passed away with a large community honoring them for their character and love of others. There are others who pass like a whisper in the wind. And some who aren't remembered with much love at all. She was one with a large community of friends.

Question Two:

Bill and I walked along Folsom Street recently, near the Embarcadero, an area in San Francisco populated by young, earnest people who chose university studies that allowed them to graduate into jobs with starting salaries that are more than I ever made as a junior high school teacher. They are the new affluent of their generation. They tend to walk in groups in conversation using a vocabulary that is not familiar to me. 

At a stop light at Beale and Folsom, two young men came up beside us, one saying to the other, "We're all super smart..." I could not help but turn my head to see who spoke. He caught my eye as we smiled at each other. Then as we waited for the light, he said, "My friend and I are making a dating video. We have about a hundred applicants with more on a waiting list. We are looking for people who have been married for many years to give advise to the people on the show about how to stay married for a long time. Would you be willing...?"

Bill and I have an impulsive streak and often say, "Yes," to an invitation such as this before thinking things through. This time we rolled our eyes, shook our heads, and said, "No, we don't think so," They pleaded, "Oh, say yes, you two would be perfect. It will be fun." We shook our heads and they waved as they started across the street, hurrying on their way to their best life.

I have been thinking about those to incidents all week. What kind of person can I be so that people remember me with love instead of bitterness or regret? What makes a marriage work over a long time?

What is your answer?

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Check out this essay about AI by Janine Vanpool the Editor of "Uppercase" magazine, a magazine for the creative and curious. A good, thoughtful read. She explains about the effect AI is having on creativity and design practices:

https://uppercase.kit.com/posts/261013

WISH YOU WERE HERE

Fall is slipping into San Francisco, which means we are getting our one chance of really hot weather. That doesn't stop the leaves from turning colors, but for people who love summer, this is a favorite time of year. If you are one of those, maybe you wish for one last day at the beach, or another week at the lake, or even a trip to sunny Tunnel Tops in the Presidio. This period is a time for nostalgia, of memories of good times. We used to call this time Indian Summer. MPRNews, the Minnesota public broadcasting station, explained the possible origins of the name, including references to the prairie fires set by Native Tribes in the fall. This Monday is Indegenous Peoples Day. We've understood that we need to honor the people who came before us with this memorial day. We used the name "Indian" so carelessly in our history, do we also need to find a better name for this time of year?

"Wish You Were Here at the Lake"

Bill and I took the train to Palo Alto late in the day last Friday for the opening reception of Pacific Art League's postcard exhibition. The league had accepted four of my postcards and we wanted to see how the creative minds from PAL displayed the small works by over 100 artists.

"Wish You Were Here at the Beach"

With three of the postcards, I used a cartoonish style to represent nostalgic times when we spent a week each summer at a lake in Minnesota while our son was growing up. This trio of cards is reminiscent of the one from the lake resort that I sent to my sister every year. Rather than sending a card showing new discoveries in Minnesota each year, I wanted to cement the idea of returning to a familiar place again and again. The original postcard showed the view of Lake Florida's beach with the Dickerson's Resort cabins strung like candy along the grassy area leading to the beach. I tried to capture with the trio of postcards some of the remembrance of a perfect summer vacation, of the faded Photochrome postcards that we received or sent, and of times gone by.

"Wish You Were Here at Tunnel Tops"

I was surprised that the league took all four of my postcards since the last postcard was a stand-alone card that offered the idea that "From One Seed a Forest Grows." It doesn't have the same nostaglic feel as the other three, but it is a reminder that little ideas can grow into movements. An idea that all of us can relate to.

"One Seed Makes the Forest Grow"

Postcard Exhibition at the Pacific Arts League Gallery, Palo Alto, CA

After we wandered through the gallery and took photos of the event and of my postcards pinned to the walls, we walked out into the early evening light, the autumn light that produces long shadows and deep colors. With the heat wave, the evening allowed us to sit outside for dinner. As we ate, the light darkened, and the sparkly strings of lights came on at all the restaurants in the blocked-off street. The outdoor seating along the street was lined with flowering geraniums. We felt we were back in Paris except that we didn't hear the piano concerts we often heard from the Cote d'Ivoire embassy at the end of our street. Last Friday was a perfect postcard night.

rue de Lasteyrie, Paris, France

Poster for the PAL postcard exhibition by Nan Wang

       

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Check out the story behind the name Indian Summer here:

https://www.mprnews.org/story/2017/10/12/a-new-name-for-indian-summer 

Check out the Smithsonian's postcard history here:

https://siarchives.si.edu/history/featured-topics/postcard/postcard-history

Check out a lake resort experience at Dickerson's Lake Florida Resort:

https://www.willmarlakesarea.com/listings/dickersons-lake-florida-resort/

TIME FLIER

Last week I spent two days in an all-day calligraphy workshop and another day celebrating the last Giants baseball game of the year. The Giants weren't so giant this year. Due to injuries, the team fielded a group of rookies who faced the Dodgers, their longtime rivals, who are a powerhouse of baseball pros. The rookies thrilled us by keeping the last three games close, often almost winning, while giving us a chance to see the rookies test their limits and chances for next year. I remember reading Doris Kearns Goodwin's book, "Wait Till Next Year," a memoir of her family's love of baseball, which included those two baseball rivals that we watched, who were at the time of the book both based in New York. I could relate to her story because my dad let us watch baseball games on TV, and set up a makeshift diamond in our backyard. It was easy there to hit one out of the park since the balls went into our close neighbor's yard.

Bill and I share a love of the game, and we think of all the phrases that come up in casual speech that originated with baseball:

Cover your bases

Throw someone a curve ball

Step up to the plate and

A whole new ball game

After the workshop and the baseball game, I came home to my worktable. And stared. Somehow the area had become completely covered in my absence as if three thousand little minions had scrambled my work-in-progress all over the tabletop. How could missing just three days of attention let things go so array? Yesterday afternoon, while I was still feeling the creative inspiration from the workshop, I plopped my art journal on top of the stack of papers and precariously worked on a page, the paper tipping towards the floor as I put pen to paper. I didn't bother to unload what was under the journal, instead, I just kept working till I got to the bottom of the journal page when that workshop-inspired creative juice ran out, leaving me feeling doubt creeping in. The last small rectangle didn't work the way I wanted, so I will cut out a piece of paper and glue over it.

I don't usually get writer's block, the mental stoppage that prevents both writers and artists from moving ahead with whatever they are working on. Both types of creatives can stare at a blank white paper in front of them. I tend towards the opposite direction with too many ideas rushing out at once so that I find it hard to finish any one thing. If I do get stuck, I pull out my sketchbook and start doodling, something I have done all my life through meetings, classes, and waiting times. Usually, those random doodles help me get past any doubts and re-awaken inspiration. I don't have to "wait till next year" to step up to the plate. It gives me a chance at a whole new ballgame.

My normal workspace

Check out the A to Z  baseball idioms list from Wikipedia:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Glossary_of_English-language_idioms_derived_from_baseball 

Yes, I still use Wikipedia. Another one of my small rebellions, like choosing Lyft over Waymo, the driverless cars. I don't plan to use them until all cars are driverless and people aren't depending on ride share driving to earn a living. Wikipedia is produced by human information, and, unlike AI, isn't snatching the work of artists and writers without compensation.

Window View September 2026

SONGS

Have you ever had a song stuck in your head? When the gospel song, "Oh Happy Days"sung by the Edwin Hawkings Singers, became a hit in the late 1960s, the words crawled into my brain and stayed there for days. I hadn't thought of that song in years until we went to the Flower Piano event at Golden Gate Park. One of the musical groups performing in the Great Meadow of the botanical gardens burst into happy singing with that song. "Oh Happy Days" is still rambling around in my head this week.

Flower Piano at Golden Gate Park

For the last couple of weeks, Flower Piano provided various places thoroughout the botanical garden for local musicians to perform music from jazz to classical music. Performers change every day and performed for an hour each session. On a week day when it was less crowded, we stopped to listen to Doug Goodkin and the Pentatonics in the Fragrance Garden. The group offered a subtle lesson in the development of jazz from its early roots of blues and gospel singing to ragtime to swing and on to the present. Goodkin is a former music teacher at the San Francisco School and invited the audience to participate in the music-making. The San Francisco School has been around since the 1960s and has the air of the experimental education that developed back then. Goodkin was responsible for introducing the Orff Schulwerk method of music education to the school. The Orff method teaches music through movement, exploration, and improvisation.

After listening to the Pentatonics and the Community Music Center Choir with their rendition of "Oh Happy Days," we walked over to 9th and Judah, had a quick lunch and hopped on the N Judah to get us home. The best part of the event for us waited there. We watched "Secret Song," a documentary on Prime about Doug Goodkin and his teaching methods. He describes himself this way,

"I didn't love school as a child, but was enchanted by the world's wonders and always curious how the world worked -- or didn't work. And so, in a mixture of revenge and vision, I became a lifelong teacher."

I identified with his comments and as a former junior high school teacher, I lovedwatching him in the film as he worked with his students. He uses a combination of imagination and quiet discipline, showing them how to be empathetic and collaborative, all the while seemingly just having fun.

Check out where to see "The Secret Song" here:

https://www.thesecretsongfilm.com/#screenings

The San Francisco School:

https://sfschool.org 

More about Doug Goodkin:

https://www.thesecretsongfilm.com/dougs-corner

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We all worry about where AI will lead us, but here is an artist who is using AI to create wonderful videos:

Artists and AI:: Kelly Boesch https://www.kellyboesch.com

TRACKING TIME

The middle of my favorite sketchbook

I am down to the last few pages of my favorite sketchbook. It has been with me for 10 years and the first couple of pages contain drawings I did in Sonoma before a wedding. The newlyweds now have school-aged children. 

I have sketched in this book at numerous cafes, while riding BART and other public transit, and in a car from San Francisco up towards the Oregon border. I've written in it at workshops and on our trip to Norway. During the pandemic while I attended workshops on Zoom, I drew the participants. The majority of the pages though, chronicle our time when we packed up our old house, moved around the Bay Area and settled in San Francisco. I am sorry to see this book come to a close.

Inside the front cover of my favorite sketchbook

A visit to Portland, Oregon

I have no idea where I bought the book. It is simple with a brown kraft paper-like cover and tan paper. The paper inside is not slick but sturdy enough to hold ink well and mostly not to bleed to the other side. The binding is such that the pages lie flat. It is small and light enough that I don't argue with myself about carrying it. I've had to cover the spine with black duct tape to keep it from falling apart. I have other sketchbooks I've used during the same period, but this is one I like the best. The inside cover has a simple design about what a smile means and on the opposite page a piece of calligraphy by Carol Colasurdo.

Calligraphy practice & places in the City & Walnut Creek

Zoom drawings from workshop

Part of our journey to move to San Francisco

Shoes and Feet

Looking through my stack of unfinished or brand-new sketchbooks, I've finally decided on a larger one by Stillman & Birn that has sets of black, white, tan and grey pages. The paper is not as slick as the smaller Hahnemuhle one that I thought would be my choice.

Like other sketchbooks, it is made with sets of signatures sewn into the spine. It also lies flat when open. I'm surprised that I like the larger layout, but it gives me more space around my drawings. 

The other choice is a sketchbook that is even older than my favorite. I made the book myself during a class at the San Francisco Center for the Book with an extraordinary English book designer and creator, Dominic Riley. I usually choose my favorite over this book. I think it's because I messed up the first few pages and couldn't satisfactorily, to my mind, fix it.  It's still way to busy to me.

And the next page is even worse.

But there are pages inside that I really like. The page with hares shows how important empty or negative space can be. This also shows the stitching in the signature.

Looking through my sketchbooks gives me a chance to see the passage of time, both in written words and in drawings. One way to chronicle my life.

People at the Legion of Honor in San Francisco

San Francisco Center for the Book.in their gallery:

https://www.sfcb.org/exhibitions#on-view

Take a class with Dominic Riley at SFCB:

https://www.sfcb.org/workshops/detail?coursestormCourseId=d618cee7816711f185ff0affe5650d13

https://designerbookbinders.org.uk/fellows-and-licentiates/riley-dominic/

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Peter Max, a popular artist in the 1960s and 70s, has died. RIP Peter Max. May you spend eternity in a rainbow of colors.

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Flower Piano at the Golden Gate Park's Botanical Garden is a special event that runs through this Sunday. Bring a seat or blanket and listen to local musicmakers at various locations within the gardens. Well worth a trip to San Francisco.

QUIET CAMPUS

"Autumn Comes Calling" by M. Slavin

Labor Day marked our first true day of summer weather. We had an open day, so Bill and I rode the M Muni line part way to the stop at San Francisco State. We remembered the tumult in the 1970s when students and faculty went on strike against the Vietnam War and and the college's white-centric admissions pollicies. Those voices raised helped to bring an end to the war, but more long-lasting were the development at SF State of ethnic studies programs such as Black and Native American studies, which helped to open up public four-year colleges across California to non-white and disadvantaged students. We thought about the coverage of the strikes from long ago and how they affected our country and how those decisions to be more inclusive are being reversed now.

We arrived at SF State and walked on campus, not to the uproar of striking students and faculty, but to a surprisingly empty campus. Classes started on August 24, but the holiday had scattered everyone. We came to find the sculptures and murals that dot the campus, but we were surprised by what we found. We saw only two people sitting outside the closed library, and another hunkered down, hoodie over their head, in a corner between two tall buildings. We spotted a crow and two finches, but other than that, the college grounds were strangely quiet. 

Cypress trees tower over the building spread across the park-like setting, reminding us that we were near the coast. In this part of San Francisco, a usual day would be foggy with a brisk wind. On Monday, the sky was clear and the sun shone warm on our shoulders. Yet there was no one lounging on the grass or running briskly through the campus.

We sat in two Adirondack chairs for a while enjoying the sunshine and the surprising quiet. Bill loves to be in crowds and the noise and bustle invigorates him. I love quiet places, which is not always easy to find in a bustling city. We walked by two Beniamino Bufano sculptures and the large "Caring" by Aristides Demetrios, and spied the huge "Buckeyes and Benches," a metal installation created by William Wareham. That was enough for us even though there are murals and other sculptures spread across the campus. We reminded ourselves that we need to eat first before we start exploring or our hunger always wins out over our exploring interests. As we walked back to the M line, we stared at the Cesar Chavez Student Center, a puzzling Brutalist design with what looked like an amphitheater on the rooftop. The center was closed, so we tried to figure out what the rooftop area was used for. A swimming pool on the roof? (Mission Bay UCSF has one). A place for small concerts? A place to get away from the crowds of students who normally filled the spaces all over campus? A place to sunbathe? All of the above?

The area around SF State is one that is familiar to us reaching back to when Bill's family lived in Los Altos and I moved to the Bay Area after college. We would often drive up to the City on 101, cut over to 19th Avenue to reach Golden Gate Park. We might stop at Stern Grove near the college or continue to the larger park with its museums, gardens, buffalo, and band concerts. We never stopped to explore the other areas around SF State.

Bufano's sculptures often represent his ideas about peace.

Back on board the M line, we traveled a short distance past Stonestown, a thriving mall that caters to young people with its offerings of Daiso, JIMS (a Japanese eyewear store), several game stores, Kizuki Ramen and other Asian restaurants, and Potobox, a selfie photo center. We didn't stop there, but waited tell we reached the West Portal stop. West Portal is another small San Francisco village with a Hardware Coffee at one end and an Original Joe's at the other. Lots of small businesses line West Portal Drive where both the M and K Muni lines emerge from underground and cut down the middle of the street.

Looking for a small cafe for lunch, we walked past the packed Original Joe's and Elena's. We noticed the line outside of the eatery Toast across the street. We finally settled into a window seat at Trattoria da Victorio for a simple Italian meal. The sun shone through our window as we watched people pass by and as we assessed another part of San Francisco.

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Read about the student/faculty strike that upended higher education in California:

https://magazine.sfsu.edu/archive/archive/fall_08/strike.html 

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A friend asked me for a link to one of my essays about moving and living in San Francisco. I found the latest one and decided to go back through this year's posts to find others. Here is my list from this year:

December 26, 2025: Five Years Ago

January 23, 2026: View from the Bay

February 13, 2026: Flourishing Diversity

March 6, 2026: People-Friendly Places

March 13, 2026: Spring-Glorious

May 8, 2026: What to Do with Monsters

May 15, 2026: Hills and Stairs

August 7: Living in a Neighborhood

These are all for 2026 so far. You can find them on the Postcards in the Air main page, in the side bar on the right marked Blog Archive. Click on the month, and you will find these essays. 

Now, I'm going back to find all the other ones I've written since we moved to San Francisco in 2023.