IN THE MOMENT

 

watercolor illustrations for my postcards

This morning, I woke up remembering sitting around a table recently with long-time friends on a warm summer evening and the joy of being part of the relaxed conversation and camaraderie. I went to the window and watched a heron skim over the surface of Mission Creek. I sat to read an essay by a cousin, Carrie Clauson, about the importance of cousins.

Elizabeth Fishel, the leader of the writers group I belong to, once commented that the small moments we all have are not only personal but universal and can resonate with anyone, and are good writing material. Just before a summer hiatus of our group fifteen years ago, she suggested that we each send postcards to each other over the next couple of months. Her idea was my inspiration to write Postcards in the Air. I started with postcards I bought at a store, then found a printer who reproduced my designs as postcards, I sent out those postcards, and then I began to write a weekly post that I published as my blog.

This morning as I turned on the tap to wash my morning face, I listened for the cold water to turn to hot, a subtle difference in sound. I smiled and wondered again why the temperature would affect the sound of the water spilling from the tap. As I was doing my daily puzzles sitting on our tiny balcony overlooking the creek and Oracle Park, I heard what I thought was a very loud car radio blasting music. I wondered how anyone could sit in the car. Bill came out on the balcony and said it wasn't a car radio, but a soundcheck at Oracle four blocks away for the concert that night for Journey, Def Leppard, and the Steve Miller Band. I couldn't help myself and swayed with the familiar music. It was unbelievably loud, but we both wanted to go sit at the new McCovey Park across from Oracle to listen. When the soundcheck stopped temporarily, the Chinese string instrument music of the tai chi class exercising at the pavilion across the street from us gently floated in the air.

While listening to the sound check and then the Chinese music, I also watched a Zoom presentation by Carl Rohrs, a well-known calligrapher and teacher in the Bay Area, about the influence of early 20th-century poster art on the psychedelic poster artists from the 1960s who continue to produce work for rock bands. Rohrs showed posters that the group of artists created in the 1970s for bands such as Journey, Def Leppard, and the Steve Miller Band. As I was listening to his talk and to the different styles of music, I watched two small origami balls that a friend gave me that hang next to an open window. The balls danced quietly with the gentle breeze coming into the room.

The small happenings of life, including various levels of sounds, feelings, thoughts, music, and images, often seem to intertwine. These moments become a good way for me to beginmy morning.

paper balls made by J.G.

Check out Carrie Clauson's column about cousins here:

https://preview.mailerlite.io/emails/webview/341793/129465238831498616

Watch Carl Rohrs' presentation on YouTube:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tH70W3ZOhUI

STANDING TALL

What inspires you?

My love of country is quiet, not the aggressive version found in the chant, "USA, USA." Traveling across the country has given me a chance to meet people who live different lives than I do, but have the same sense of community, of helping others, and standing up for what they believe in. We've had a lot of moments in the last few weeks that have stirred us to step back and remind ourselves of our values and ideals. First, the Olympics grabbed our attention. We watched as athlete after athlete pushed themselves to reach their personal best. This week, while watching the Democratic Party Convention, I was inspired by the fiery speeches. Most of all, I loved the enthusiasm of the roll call vote when people from each state proudly proclaimed not only their vote but what was special about their state. Music and a DJ helped them along, which was a different experience from previous roll calls.

I've never felt comfortable joining in with throngs of people chanting or cheering one person. I'm old enough to have seen newsreels of the past showing the crowds with their right hands raised in salute to Hitler. Those films shiver me still and remind me that an enthusiastic crowd can easily turn into a monster, convinced by the crowd around them that they have the right solutions. January 6 comes to mind.

For me, the conventions are best when ordinary people come forward to tell their often poignant stories. They are the students, the neighbors, and the colleagues who provide us with a small window into the lives of other ordinary people who put themselves in front of us as candidates. Like the Olympics beforehand, this convention allowed us to honor ideas and people willing to represent us while uplifting our spirits in times of difficulty.

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No matter what you choose to do in life, your body will respond in ways you didn't expect. New York Times had an article about ancient scribes. Read it here:

 https://www.nytimes.com/2024/08/16/science/ancient-scribes-ergonomic-injuries.html?smid=nytcore-ios-share&referringSource=articleShare&sgrp=c-cb

AUTUMN SHIVERS

 It's August and the famous San Francisco fog has returned, and kids are already back in school. We sat in the Spark Lab Food Truck Park and watched a large group of students bustle into the open space.  Some of them were in scrubs. All of them had badges identifying them as medical students. They looked fresh and new and eager.

It's August and the Olympic Games are finished and what an uplift they have been. Baseball season is winding down and we only have a few more games to watch before the long postseason begins.

Living in San Francisco, we don't have much other evidence of changes in season. Mostly, we notice the position of the sun. As summer advanced, the sun slowly rose in the morning moving from the south side of our apartment complex towards the north side. The morning August fog has covered the sun's progress and it is hard to tell if the sun's position has started to slip back to the south.

It's August and the Perseid meteor showers pass over us in the night. We can't see them either because the city lights are too bright. Bill thinks of places he could go to photograph their streaks across the sky.

Temperatures in our area are hard for us to predict at any time of day. We look out the window, see fog in the morning, and assume it will be chilly. We layer, but once we are downstairs and open the lobby door, we find ourselves dressed in the wrong clothes -- either too much or too little. Going outside with the wrong clothing reminds me of Tokyo in June during their rainy season. I would layer up to keep warm expecting the rain to bring a chill in the air as it does in California's rainy months. I ventured from Hiroo Towers and walked into a blanket of humidity instead.

It's August and now we have noticed the clutter of leaves blown from the street trees onto the pavement, huddling next to cars' tires. We are puzzled. Is it the fierce winds we frequently have in late afternoon or an indication of autumn around the corner? We went to Cavallo Point last Sunday and noticed that the eucalyptus leaves covered the ground underneath the trees. I gathered a pile of leaves. Though eucalyptus is an invasive species and a big contributor during fires in California, the leaves are beautiful with many color variations. I painted a set against a white background and another with them piled together. 

It's August and we see traces of autumn's approach.

 

LAYERS OF LIFE

A layer of fog moves into San Francisco

Where we stand on this earth is unlikely to be the original layer. If you visit Rome, you can find the excavations of a city street that dig down to Roman times and show how the eras have built on top of each other. San Francisco has a similar layering of history with the city gradually being built on top of areas occupied by the early Ohlone settlements, then the missionaries who traveled up the Pacific Coast, then the Gold Rush with abandoned ships broken down and buried under what is now a modern city in the aftermath of the earthquake and fire in 1906. The smaller town of Danville where we lived for many years has its own layers including a quarry containing animal bones and plant life from the Miocene era (9 to 10 million years ago) and the burial sites of the Bay Miwok people who lived in the area for over 5000 years.

Alphabet based on lettering style used in Ancient Rome

When we lived in Paris and walked through various neighborhoods, I noticed small brass signs posted on the walls of buildings. Many sites indicated the residence of a famous writer such as Oscar Wilde, but others made their particular spot a memory of an atrocity from WWII. The plaque indicated where someone was executed by either the Nazis or Vichy police. When I read the plaques, I couldn't help thinking that the building still held an artist or writer's creative mind or felt intense sadness over the results of war. I guess those connections with past history are why people still visit the graves in Pere Lachaise Cemetery in Paris -- a reminder of who came before.

Jack London's birthplace in San Francisco
The plaque is designed with Roman Capitals lettering

In San Francisco, the more I walk the streets, the more I notice brass plaques embedded in the pavement or on buildings' walls. Part of the Barbary Coast Trail runs along King Street near the Caltrain Station. As I walk along the street, I stop to read a line of small plaques with words from Rammaytush, the language of the area's original inhabitants. Each word has an English translation beside it. The language has almost disappeared with just over 100 words still known.

Two Rammaytush words written in Roman Capitals without thick and thin lines

At the intersection of Townsend Street and the Embarcadero are cement posts that explain a brief history of Rincon Hill, where the first wealthy residents from the Gold Rush built mansions, none of which are still there. Rincon Hill never recovered from the 1906 earthquake and fire. At the base, large warehouses and inexpensive housing covered the area. The hill itself almost disappeared when the Bay Bridge was built in the 1930s. Now it is home to a few high-rise condominiums (including ours). Some of the brick warehouses are still in place, converted to office spaces. When I walk in our neighborhood, I find more and more history at my feet and on plaques on buildings that help me remember what came before.

Stunt Roman and Draftsman,
variations of Roman Capitals developed in early 20th Century

Check out information here:

Rammaytush, one of the eight Ohlone languages:

https://artandarchitecture-sf.com/ramaytush.html

Rincon Hill, San Francisco:

https://www.spur.org/publications/urbanist-article/2003-01-01/history-ever-changing-rincon-hill 

Danville first peoples and animals from a quarry:

https://museumsrv.org/remembering-the-valleys-first-people/

https://baynature.org/article/mastadons-in-our-midst/ 

WHAT MAKES ME SMILE

by Martha Slavin

 

Small things in the morning to get me going:  I do the puzzles in the San Francisco Chronicle and the New York Times. The SF puzzles are produced by Puzzmo. The Puzzmo pages make me smile because the creators have added small yellow animated faces to the pages. A little character jumps up and cheers when I complete a word puzzle. When I go to the next puzzle, another little yellow head gobbles up the previous page to reveal a new puzzle. The NY Times puzzles are less fun but require more concentration. No smiling faces there. Connections is the hardest for me of the six NYT puzzles I do each day. The Connections page shows four rows of four words each in a box. I am supposed to find the connections between a group of four words. Sometimes I get them right; other times, the screen pats me on the back and says, Next Time. I breeze through Wordle, give myself two minutes to work on Spelling Bee to at least be Good, and finish the Mini Crossword quickly. I have found a strategy to complete Letterboxed and have fun with Tiles.

I think of those little Puzzmo faces while I watch the Olympics this year. The crowds in the stands are like the little animated emojis cheering me on. When Leon Marchand of France swam the breaststroke, the crowd whooped in unison every time he raised his head above the water. Their cheers made me smile and seemed to help Marchand achieve a new record.

After watching the PBS documentary, The Movement and the Madman, about Richard Nixon, I can't stop humming the John Lennon song, "Give Peace a Chance", a song that was an anthem for the Vietnam War protesters. The documentary shows how masses of people can affect global events. In that case, they helped prevent an escalation of the war. One of the Olympic goals is to promote peace in the world. The Olympics brings people together from all over the world to participate equally in athletic events (who didn't cheer the efforts of the South Sudanese basketball team even though we hold our NBA players in our hearts?) By watching the Olympics, I have turned away from the constant barrage of the daily news and enjoy the feats of these well-trained athletes. (Have you watched any of the women's rugby matches? Amazing!) 

When we attend baseball games, I marvel at the crowd cheers. I listen as we all respond in unison to a great play, a home run, or at the last out in the 9th inning. In that moment we've all come together, and our mutual joy makes us larger than we are as individuals.

Now, are you humming that tune too?

Here's a link to Puzzmo:

https://www.puzzmo.com/today

And to the PBS Documentary The Movement and the Madman:

https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/americanexperience/films/movement-and-madman/