That's interesting. Although, I think the original piece also had a certain nuance that this was not a perfect childhood by any means, but almost a series of snapshots in a collage of the best bits. (Apologies for saddling you with another analogy!)
I like the new analogy! And yes, I think in the back of my mind I saw the two pieces being read in tandem. It's so interesting, writing things like this. Thank you for thinking about both of them — that's very accurate.
I love this analogy of the block puzzle, Maria. It seems a very good way of introducing your memoir writing. It might leave you feeling vulnerable when seen, so you might prefer to stay in the shadows like a deer. Or like a wolf you might need to write in order to hunt for your sometimes dangerous memories, and for that you have to be willing to take risks.
Love that! Expanding the analogy to be the image as the writer as well as the thing being written. And yes, those two aspects really are front and center for memoir, aren't they? I didn't think of it when I happened to choose those two of the six available pictures. The others on this particular puzzle actually include a hedgehog and a fox, which is sort of fun; makes one think of Isaiah Berlin.
I love these pieces on Bolinas - and beyond. I've never been to Bolinas, but my good friend and beloved teacher Bobbie Louise Hawkins lived there in the 70s and 80s - part of that community of poets and writers. I enjoy reading them very much indeed, and your writing conjures up that spirit too.
There was a new edition of an anthology of Bolinas writing that I recently acquired: On The Mesa. A photo of Bobbie is in fact the cover image.
A certain amount of hippie history in my own family too! And also associations with America. One of the reasons perhaps why Naropa felt so welcoming.
(See that I posted this reply in the wrong place in the comments, so am reposting it now in the right place, even though am glad to see that you found it then!)
Oh, thank you! Am glad that the pieces have resonated, and it's an honor, to have this writing associated with that crowd. B.L. Hawkins and I overlapped in Bolinas, but although I knew her name, I don't think I knew her. (Their kids were older than I was.) Lovely to hear these nice words about her as a teacher as well as a poet. Thanks for this, and also for the recommendation, which I just saw
Oh, thank you! Am glad that the pieces have resonated, and it's an honor, to have this writing associated with that crowd. B.L. Hawkins and I overlapped in Bolinas, but although I knew her name, I don't think I knew her. (Their kids were older than I was.) Lovely to hear these nice words about her as a teacher as well as a poet. Thanks for this, and also for the recommendation, which I just saw.
Your memoirs are so effective and honest. The block puzzle analogy, especially with the simple images of deer and wolf, is very expressive. Memory has that toggle between the gentle and the darker edges that can flip a block. I also loved the image of you watching the night sky as a time keeper, letting the constellations mark the hours going by. It is a wonderful contrast to the awareness that the memories aren't bound by those physical markers and may be of a week or years in our memories. Beautiful writing.
Loved your story - the details just fill the senses. The fog, the Milky Way, the pet kisses, the sleeping bag… And the puzzle analogy is wonderful. It could apply, I think, to your siblings’ memory/experience of those mornings as well. One might have the deer picture while another, the wolf.
This is so nice to read — thank you! I’m glad the analogy works. And yes, I like that: that different siblings in the same family might see different pieces of the different images.
That's interesting. Although, I think the original piece also had a certain nuance that this was not a perfect childhood by any means, but almost a series of snapshots in a collage of the best bits. (Apologies for saddling you with another analogy!)
I like the new analogy! And yes, I think in the back of my mind I saw the two pieces being read in tandem. It's so interesting, writing things like this. Thank you for thinking about both of them — that's very accurate.
I love this analogy of the block puzzle, Maria. It seems a very good way of introducing your memoir writing. It might leave you feeling vulnerable when seen, so you might prefer to stay in the shadows like a deer. Or like a wolf you might need to write in order to hunt for your sometimes dangerous memories, and for that you have to be willing to take risks.
Love that! Expanding the analogy to be the image as the writer as well as the thing being written. And yes, those two aspects really are front and center for memoir, aren't they? I didn't think of it when I happened to choose those two of the six available pictures. The others on this particular puzzle actually include a hedgehog and a fox, which is sort of fun; makes one think of Isaiah Berlin.
I can see this puzzle on the cover of your book (perhaps different editions!)
Wow — that means that the analogy really works. Thank you!
I love these pieces on Bolinas - and beyond. I've never been to Bolinas, but my good friend and beloved teacher Bobbie Louise Hawkins lived there in the 70s and 80s - part of that community of poets and writers. I enjoy reading them very much indeed, and your writing conjures up that spirit too.
There was a new edition of an anthology of Bolinas writing that I recently acquired: On The Mesa. A photo of Bobbie is in fact the cover image.
A certain amount of hippie history in my own family too! And also associations with America. One of the reasons perhaps why Naropa felt so welcoming.
(See that I posted this reply in the wrong place in the comments, so am reposting it now in the right place, even though am glad to see that you found it then!)
Oh, thank you! Am glad that the pieces have resonated, and it's an honor, to have this writing associated with that crowd. B.L. Hawkins and I overlapped in Bolinas, but although I knew her name, I don't think I knew her. (Their kids were older than I was.) Lovely to hear these nice words about her as a teacher as well as a poet. Thanks for this, and also for the recommendation, which I just saw
Oh, thank you! Am glad that the pieces have resonated, and it's an honor, to have this writing associated with that crowd. B.L. Hawkins and I overlapped in Bolinas, but although I knew her name, I don't think I knew her. (Their kids were older than I was.) Lovely to hear these nice words about her as a teacher as well as a poet. Thanks for this, and also for the recommendation, which I just saw.
Your memoirs are so effective and honest. The block puzzle analogy, especially with the simple images of deer and wolf, is very expressive. Memory has that toggle between the gentle and the darker edges that can flip a block. I also loved the image of you watching the night sky as a time keeper, letting the constellations mark the hours going by. It is a wonderful contrast to the awareness that the memories aren't bound by those physical markers and may be of a week or years in our memories. Beautiful writing.
Oh, thank you! This means a great deal.
Loved your story - the details just fill the senses. The fog, the Milky Way, the pet kisses, the sleeping bag… And the puzzle analogy is wonderful. It could apply, I think, to your siblings’ memory/experience of those mornings as well. One might have the deer picture while another, the wolf.
This is so nice to read — thank you! I’m glad the analogy works. And yes, I like that: that different siblings in the same family might see different pieces of the different images.