|A picture of the front of our house|
We live in a small house in a town called Hayward, Northern California. San Francisco, with it's streets washed in salt of the ocean and the fog is about forty five minutes away from us by car, across the expanse of Bay Bridge. Oakland is closer.
We bought this house three years ago, when a lot of people were forced to sell their homes because of the economic downturn. Then it seemed like there was no room for anything in these walls. Now my father is gone, walking somewhere in the spirit world hand in hand together with my mom (at least, I hope so: she was not a very hand in hand walking together person in life). My daughter, Hanah, is in college. I'll start with her.
|This is a picture of a picture of Hanah|
Hanah is an artist. When she was pint sized, she would take a large piece of white drawing paper (her grandpa was also an artist and things like white drawing paper, paint brushes and pencils were tucked away in every corner of his and mom's apartment). Hanah would take a large piece of white paper and draw animals. She drew them by categories: the sea animals, the farm animals, the pets, and so forth. I appreciated that kind of thinking; it looked like she was going to draw right through the whole animal kingdom.
|20 year old Hanah|
Now she is in college, at least three hundred miles away. She helps at a theater in her University: works on the costumes and paints the scenery. I am very proud of her, but also wish for a chance to see her and the works that she's done.