Thursday, January 29, 2009

Letter to My 13-Year-Old Self

My Forgotten City, acrylic on canvas, 24" x 48"
private collection, Tulsa


Let's talk about algebra, 13-year-old San. I know. I know what you're thinking--will you be using algebra when you're a grown-up? The answer is yes. I am...sit down now...I am 55 years old. I am 55 years old and I am using algebra.

You too are using algebra. And I'm not talking about your homework. I'm talking about a lifelong equation that doesn't quite get solved. You and I holding down opposite sides of that puzzling equation, our life. We are solving for the variable x, and x is us. For starters, and here I'll quote from something called Wikipedia (something we have in 2009, like a World Book, only it doesn't take up good shelf space--you can actually look up stuff on a little screen that sits on your desk--kind of like interacting with a TV that has a trillion channels):

A variable is an attribute of a physical or an abstract system which may change its value while it is under observation. Examples include the height of a child, the temperature across a state, or the input to a function. This concept is relevant to and applied to almost all areas of mathematics, science and engineering.

You and I are a variable. You are slowly becoming me. (Truth be told, the process isn't that slow.) And every action I take, even writing you this letter, is somehow informed by you. I wouldn't be here had you not chosen to become me. Thank you, 13-year-old San, for granting me this bottomless moment called now.

More from Wikipedia:
In
mathematics and computer science, a variable is usually represented by one or more words or symbols, such as "time" or "'x'." These abstractions are often assigned definite values later in the equation or program, but unknowns are often integral to an interface even without such a value.

Damn. That was a mouthful, but is it ever the truth! Unknowns are often integral to this interface, the common boundary of this body that you and I share somehow. I believe there's just a smattering of cells in this 55-year-old body that you have in your 13-year-old body. I mean these cells, all 100 trillion of them (if you can imagine that--I know I can't), constantly break down and are replaced. I know you are learning such things in biology and are a bit freaked out by the knowledge. It still freaks me out a bit too. I look in the mirror and yes, I've changed in outward appearance, and yes, that makes me feel a little weird but not nearly as much as it would make you feel had you a picture of your 55-year-old self to view. I am not enclosing a photograph.

You must be curious about the future. I'll tell you a little about what I know:

  1. Remember that summer afternoon when you were 9 and Sharon Huckabee climbed on Mama's clothesline post and stood there for the better of three hours, intent on flying? You refused to come in when Mama called you in to supper. You were concentrating on Sharon Huckabee's heels. You just knew you were seeing them levitate ever-so-slightly off the clothesline post. You so wanted her to fly, but Mama made you come in and you just knew you missed out on seeing Sharon take off and fly over Tom Megan's blackberry bushes. You didn't miss out on a thing. Sharon never flew. Sharon will grow up and become a State Trooper. After twenty years of public service she will open a travel agency. She has always wanted to fly off to exotic places, so she decides she might as well help other people do it. Something called the internet kills her business just as it is taking off and she is arrested for check kiting. Now she's serving time in the State Pen.
  2. Sharon didn't fly, but you will. You won't be climbing on a clothesline post, but you will be soaring. You will travel to places you never imagined. Let me rephrase that. You will travel to places and they will never be quite as you imagined. What places? Strange, sometimes wonderful places. Marriage, for one. Motherhood. The death of friends. (I said sometimes wonderful.) Yes, friends will die. A couple won't even survive high school, and somehow you will. I don't say this to scare you. You are already serious as the preacher, always worrying about death. I say this to acknowledge it will happen, but it's something you do bear. Death is in the equation, kind of like a helium balloon. It lightens each side when things get too heavy for the Universe to bear.
  3. There are some people you won't mind seeing lifted off into the great beyond on their helium balloon. Remember Mrs. Gilchrist? Remember when she told you your portrait of Molly Mastin was "horrible"? Well, she lives a long time. Into her 90s. But when she lifts off, you won't feel in the least bit sad. A fifth grade teacher doesn't have any business raining on a little kid's art parade. Especially a kid who will grow up and sell her paintings to a bunch of sophisticated people from places like Seattle and Chicago and Los Angeles. Yes, I mean you!
  4. Speaking of bad adults, watch out for that junior high librarian. Next week you will be re-checking a book. She will casually ask you, "Did you see the movie?" "Yes," you will reply. "Oh, I get it. You're going to do your book report from the movie." What a clueless bitch. And I do mean clueless. In three of so years, her husband will be lifted off on his helium balloon. And we will learn she is pretty much helpless outside of a junior high library. I mean she doesn't even know how to write a check! I tell you this because this is a pattern I've begun to notice: Often the meanest, pettiest people are the most helpless. Remember that and try to ignore their meanness. Most of all, try to let go of what little meanness you're holding on to. Believe me. It will lighten our equation considerably.
  5. Never ever let a mean-spirited, petty person, especially yourself, stand in your way of flying. It's really pretty simple. You just start walking with a confident stride. You can start anywhere. Right now. Start walking down the hallway. Pretend you have little springs under your heels. Pretend I have little springs under my heels and that I am at the other end of the hall walking towards you. Yes, I see you now and I am walking towards you. The closer I get, you begin to feel your heels rising ever-so-slightly, both of them at the same time, off the floor...Now they are a quarter-of-an-inch in the air. You are starting to fly, San...get ready to soar...

133 comments:

lime said...

i'd have done much better in "algebra according to san" than i ever did in academic algebra. the beauty is you learned to fly and you help others look to the skies too in so many ways.

what a wonderful meditation.

Daryl said...

Ah the algebra analogy .. quite wonderful and a lot easier to grasp than the real deal which I repeated several times ... I am totally mathematically challenged.

Liz said...

That's a great post! Wonderful advice.

Katney told me you'd written on algebra (after reading my much more mudane post on it).

Blue Sky Dreaming said...

San, Accessing your 13 year old self is the best flight and then giving her the message and flying lessons she will carry forward...the true gift ever!!!! I could feel the love and compassion for that dear girl. Blessings. Mary Ann

Jeane said...

I loved this!

aims said...

This sounds incredibly portentous!

Brings a whole different meaning to the world of mathematics.

~Babs said...

My favorite saying on the matter has always been: "Sorry,,,,I don't do math."
And I don't.
But thanks so much for showing me that although I don't 'do' math,,,I certainly practice algebra!
I LOVE your mind, San,,,,in all it's infinite workings, as well as the GORGEOUS spring-ish painting!
BRAVO!

Casdok said...

Great post and i love your Forgotton City.

Akelamalu said...

Oh great post San!

Sabi said...

San, you are back ...quite interesting letter to yourself... i can't say anything bad about algebra because I love it i can do as much as algebra all day... but its quite wonderful letter.

sabi

Kim said...

Well, Dear San! You are proving us all wrong, it seems. Now I want this post to share with people who think they know Algebra...oh, how sorely mistaken they are!

Now, I am watching to see where it is you are going to soar. I have a feeling you are setting us up for something very special!

Thanks Wonderful San!

whimsical brainpan said...

Wonderful post!

BTW, there is a website where you can actually send an email to yourself in the future. It can be ten days or ten years.

Check it out if you like: http://futureme.org/

jsd said...

this is absolutely beautiful, thank you so much for sharing your x so that perhaps my y can momentarily share space beside you - namaste, shalom, beloved

Meg Wolff said...

Hi San,
I feel my heel rising ever so slightly and I want to put a spring under my one foot and boing off for a walk (or fly) with you. I really enjoy (and look forward to)your writing. :-)

sukipoet said...

A truly inventive meditation of life and self. May you soar and soar and soar. Blessings, Suki

Flannery said...

Wow, this is an amazing post. This is why you ought to be publishing your stuff! You could totally alter the here and now if you traveled back in time and gave that letter to your 13-year-old self. DON'T DO IT!!!

I wish I could have read that when I was 13 years old.

I love you.

Maggie May said...

Oh my...... I was hopeless at anything mathematical.
I am sure you are soaring ........ but not with maths, I won't! LOL
Loved the artwork.

andrea said...

Yikes that was good. You're making me think!

Bruno LoGreco said...

Your grade five teacher is a big old meany. Did she fly away in her helium balloon yet or is she still kicking at 90? I always say when people criticize another's work it's because what they see is an illusion of what they want to see and therefore they don't see what is really there. Mean lady ... Did I ever tell you about my grade 8 teacher - Never amount to anything? And that librarian, what was her gig? And how could they let mean people teach young, sponge like children?

But it's true, you can fly, you just need to choose to want to fly.. :)

Thank you for sharing the 13 year old San. :)

RiverPoet said...

I love the light and movement in your paintings, my friend. Someday, I'll own one.

And I love the idea of writing to your younger self. There are many things I wish I could go back and say to my younger self. Number one would be, "Don't - please don't - let anyone tell you that you can't do whatever it takes to reach your dreams!" It has taken me many years to get back half the spark of passion I once had. The world beats it out of some of us.

I'm glad no one beat it out of you.

Peace - D

SandyCarlson said...

This is a wonderful letter. I am glad you fly.

I had a teacher whose mission was to rain on kids' parades. I wish I had had you for a teacher then!

Carol said...

This is a very loving post.

And your painting is beautiful. I like the colors.

Thank you San!

B.T.Bear (esq.) said...

This is a reelly good post! Mummy red it over my sholder an giggold wen yu sed, trooth be told, it issent that long. Heheh.
She feels old laytely. She is 41.
I wassent ment to tell yu that bit.


Cheeky Bear!!

Nose hugs!

:@}

Velvet Ginger said...

WOW San!!! Bringing the lessons in life full circle really made me think!! The insight on how to handle the "mean-spirited petty person" certainly touched me i many ways! Thank you.
I love your "Forgotten City", those purple buildings are out of focus from tears of a lost youth, the back ground is jthe joy of aging in wisdom.

Anna said...

San I am speachless, I really am, this is one of the best things I ever read, and very enteraining. BTW you wrote: 'Often the meanest, pettiest people are the most helpless. Remember that and try to ignore their meanness. Most of all, try to let go of what little meanness you're holding on to. Believe me. It will lighten our equation considerably.' - you know you are brilliant, may be the meannes people are mean to scare us alway from them so we don't ask questions....I got it, it all makes sense now, lol

San you are charm...I love this post. Anna :)

Leslie Avon Miller said...

What a gift this post is. Big challenges in life; being 13, algebra, and mean-spirited adults in positions of influence. I suspect all of us who read this post have extended a hand out to our own 13 year old selves with a sense of camaraderie, and perhaps to a current 13 year old artist as well.

smith kaich jones said...

There is something in the air this year. I have been talking to the 7th grade me, the one who dealt with hurt & betrayal by turning inward & learning to not trust. I am teaching her to play again, to trust, to let go, yes, to fly. "Most of all, try to let go of what little meanness you're holding on to." You have unbelievable timing , and when I have my yellow-shoes celebration, you are invited!

:) Debi

Sparkling Red said...

Death as a helium balloon. I would not have made the comparison myself, but then again I have not had much experience with death. Death as a lightening element. I will bear that in mind next time death comes a-knockin'.

CrazyCath said...

Love the algebra analogy. If 13 year old San is anything like the 55 year old one, (and I am sure she is), she has all the help she needs - a wise head, a raw talent and wings. :)

Lee said...

San, this is WONDERFUL! I agree with Flannery, I wish someone had said this to me when I was 13 and am SO glad you wrote it for me to read now! It is also my agreement that you should find a place besides blogland to publish your writings!

Hugs!

San said...

Michelle, my dad was really good at math. I would come home from algebra class, totally puzzled, and he would make it all seem easy.

But I believe I like my system even better.

San said...

Daryl, we will have to re-write the algebra books for artistic types.

When I lived in the dorm, I used to help an engineering student with her English homework. She was taking a course called English for Engineers, which was a bit easier than the traditional English comp. Why not Algebra for Artists?

San said...

Liz, I will have to read your algebra post. My curiosity's up!

And thanks to Katney for sending you here. I hope you'll return.

San said...

Mary Ann, I should have acknowledged Sometimes Saintly Nick, who gave me the idea of writing my 13-year-old self. He did that several months ago after reading someone else's letter to their 13-year-old-self. I've still to do that exercise of writing about my childhood picture though, as several of you did last summer.

San said...

Jeane, thanks!

San said...

Aims: "incredibly portentous." I like the sound of that!

San said...

Babs, I like your saying on the matter. It draws your boundaries succinctly.

Thank you for your kind words about my painting. It's living in your state after all.

San said...

Thank you, Casdok. That painting has more delicate colors than I usually work with. I should try that more often I guess.

San said...

Akelamalu, thank you for stopping by and reading the post.

San said...

Sabi, you and your family have the algebra gene! You are so lucky. I love people who are good with numbers.

San said...

Kim, I'm glad you feel as though I'm setting everybody up for "something really special." I wish I were. But no, I'm not.

Just more flying around, taking in the sights.

San said...

Whim, thanks for letting me know about that site. It sounds up my alley.

San said...

JS, thank you for introducing y into the equation. Now we can really get down to solving some mysteries!

xo

San said...

Meg, yes, let's go flying today. The sun is out and the wind is in our favor.

Bring your springs!

San said...

Suki, for some reason, the first time I read your comment as "soar and roar and soar." Hey, that works.

ROAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR.

San said...

Flan, when you were 14, I wrote you a letter which is to be opened when you are 24. (Not the same thing as what this post is about, but your comment has reminded me of the letter.) Your English teacher had you write a letter to yourself and I was to write a letter to you and send it to school in a sealed envelope. Of course I kept a copy. It's in my file cabinet. Two more years to go!

I LOVE YOU.

San said...

Maggie May, you soar in a very down-to-earth way. :-D

xo

San said...

Andrea--I'm making you think? My fifth-grade teacher would be proud.

:-D

San said...

Bruno, thank you for reading the post so thoughtfully.

You are right--we have to choose to fly. And what you have to say about criticism and illusion is very interesting.

(When will you post about the eighth grade teacher?)

Celebration of Life said...

I am in aw or ah of you, San! You are truly one amazing woman!
Jo

San said...

Doris, I believe you will own one of my paintings some day. How exciting for me!

And for the record, I don't believe that much was beat out of you. Or if it was, you've reclaimed what was lost. And then some. You are accomplishing so much these days, it makes me dizzy.

San said...

Sandy, I believe when we were kids, "parade-raining" must have been in some of the job descriptions.

San said...

Thank you, Carol, for your generous words.

San said...

Bob, your mum is 41! ONLY 41! Practically a child. No wonder she looks so youthful and vibrant.

Nose hugs to you for telling me that.

San said...

Rubye Jean, what a thoughtful interpretation of my painting--I am seeing new things about it now. THANK YOU.

I appreciate your reading the post so carefully too. Sending good wishes over the Arizona border...

San said...

Wow, Anna, now I'm speechless. I'll just say this: you've made my day.

xo

San said...

Leslie, you make a good point. We need to be kind to our past selves and look out for those around us who could use the support too.

And I believe had I been truly generous in this post, I would have realized that the emotional bullies must be recreating what they experienced as kids. They need to be forgiven.

San said...

Debi, a yellow shoes celebration! That sounds like my kind of party!

Thank you very much.

San said...

Spark, I hope that time isn't any time soon. I believe the metaphor works better on the page than in real life.

San said...

Cath--"a wise head, raw talent, and wings." Thank you for that. Something to refer to on a dark day.

xo

San said...

Lee, how nice to see you here! I am assuming you made it through the first week of your new job unscathed. Tired maybe, but a paycheck richer.

May your weekend be restorative...

HUG.

San said...

Jo, you are too kind. I am in awe, ah, and oh of you.

The Moody Minstrel said...

The description you gave for variables sounds an awful lot like the way quantum physics describes reality in general. "It is in a state of constant flux until we take a measurement. Then it falls into order."

Jerk librarians...erg...

Sandi McBride said...

It's always nice to be able to look back and see that the people that had the power to hurt you, insult you, disrespect you and throw glass on the playing field are just as capable of being hurt, being insulted and cutting their feet on the glass that others have thrown. Sort of evens out life, if you will. Great post
Sandi

Bennie said...

Algebra was my third favorite subject in High School, right behind gym and music. What does this post have to do with me? I'm married to you! And feeling fortunate for the union of our mathmatical skills, or in my case, lack thereof. "My Forgotten City" is an engaging piece, just like you!

I'll probably get slapped for that!

Bennie

david mcmahon said...

There is a book waiting patiently for you to write it.

(Flannery, I agree with you. Let's put your Mum under some pressure now, OK?)

CHEWY said...

Your letter brings to mind lyrics by performance artist Laurie Anderson:

Let X=X

"I met this guy - and he looked like he might have been a hat check clerk at an ice rink.
Which, in fact, he turned out to be. And I said: Oh boy. Right again.

Let X=X.
You know, it could be you.
It's a sky-blue sky. Satellites are out tonight.
Let X=X.

You know, I could write a book. And this book would be thick enough to stun an ox. Cause I can see the future and it's a place - about 70 miles east of here. Where it's lighter. Linger on over here.
Got the time? Let X=X."

The future... how you get there is to put yourself into the equation. Make sure you have a big eraser on hand for mistakes.

CrazyCath said...

I just want to say I so totally appreciate how you take the time to read each comment and individually reply on a personal level to each and every person. You show so much care in the way you do this and it is (I am sure) noticed and cherished by all of us.

Many of us reply in our comments, or through our inbox. Some of us (ahem, maybe .... me? *whistles nonchalantly*) do not get around to replying at all. So all replies from comments are appreciated and enjoyed.

It's not the replying, it's how you reply because only you reply in this unique way. You give so much of yourself in each comment and by doing that you also give us a window into your soul.

I just wanted to say I noticed, and thank you.

CoyoteFe said...

Simply wonderful. Such a lucky, lucky 13 year old girl! Perhaps you should write a book to other 13 year olds, as they can always take all the help they can get.

Also, why do I see people in your city? :-)

Fly high!

Shrinky said...

Yes, you fly, and do it so effortlessly too. I love this post, mainly because it assures me I am not the only one who talks to my young self with encouragement and enthusiasm. We all still have some of that unsure, timid kid living inside of ourselves that needs a little validation sometimes. Bravo San for expressing it so well and fluently. (Hugs)

Blue Sky Dreaming said...

San, I have a little something for you over at Blue Sky Dreaming. Please come over and pick it up!
Mary Ann

Tammie Lee said...

I have so enjoyed your conversation with your 13 year old self!
Your painting,,,, wow! Those colors and the movement, well it moves me. But then again I love pink.

Lynette said...

awwww San, I just turned 55today so we are the same age! I absolutely love your painting 'My Forgotten City' it's gorgeous... but eeek I could never get algebra even though I somehow managed to pass math classes back then.

ArneA said...

Like your paintings on Your Walls
Congrat with potd

Merisi said...

This is a truly beautiful letter,
thank you for sharing it with us!
I only wished every child would be able to receive it.

Congratulations on winnind David's Post of the Day award!

Philip said...

I wish I could still do the kind of art work I did when I was 13. I am still trying and I think I will get there.

Raven said...

What a magnificent person your 13 year-old grew up into. Seems like she knows how to fly in many ways. And what is it about 5th grade teachers and bitter lack of imagination? I had one like that too. Sorry to be so late visiting. Computer woes beset me. I am having a reprieve at the moment.

~Virginia~ said...

i wrote a blog (a year or so ago) to my 22 year old self. it helps to look back and see how far we've come, doesn't it? :)

here from david's page. congrats on post of the day!

The Egel Nest said...

This is a very sweet way of writing...and I love this positive take on algebra or math in general which as a child I hated...puts a good spin on things :)

Found you from David's blog! :)

Bradley
The Egel Nest

murat11 said...

San: Don't algebraic flight beat all?

katherine. said...

via david as well....and loved this post.

self taught artist said...

sometimes i have no idea what you are talking about but even then, it is profound.

San said...

Moody, what I've read in quantum physics both excites me and creeps me out.

And thanks for the sympathetic erg.

San said...

Sandi, I guess we're all capable of being hurt, also of hurting. It's just easier to tell when we've been hurt.

I'm glad you enjoyed the post.

San said...

BJ, your skills in multiplication were pretty legendary I seem to recall.

San said...

Chewy, a big eraser's right.

"Language is a virus from outer space."

San said...

Cath, this comment of yours has made my day.

I have once again gotten a glimpse of your generous spirit.

:-D

San said...

Fe, if you are seeing people in my city, then they must be there, looking back at you.

There you are, reflected in the purple one's eyes.

San said...

Hugs to you, Shrinky. I imagine your 13-year-old self as sparkling with confidence. But maybe that's because you've done a good job reassuring her of her beauty and intelligence.

San said...

Mary Ann--"a little something"? For me? Oh, I like the sound of that!

San said...

Tammie Lee, I love your Montana sky photographs. So pretty in pink!

San said...

Lynette, HAPPY BIRTHDAY to you!

Welcome to the over-the-hill gang. And thank you for your unending encouragement. May this year be one of joy and many beautiful paintings!

San said...

Thank you, Arne, for visiting and looking at some of my earlier posts.

Please come again.

San said...

Merisi, I always enjoy your visits. Because you always bring encouragement and excellent coffee.

San said...

Philip, I believe you have arrived at a very good place with your art--a point where childlike spontaneity meets sophistication.

San said...

Raven, I'm sorry to hear you had a similar teacher. That really bites.

But here we are, telling our stories (when our computers allow us to anyway.)

San said...

Virginia, now you're making me feel the urge to write a letter to my 22-year-old self. In some ways, that would be even harder than the one to the 13-year-old.

Thank you for visiting. I hope you'll come again.

San said...

Bradley, it seems there's a lot of algebra phobia among us bloggers. Join the club. We can call ourselves the Algebra Attitude Adjustment Association.

San said...

Paschal, it does at that. Indeed. Wonder what got thrown in the equation to set off your food poisoning. I hope you're feeling better.

San said...

Thanks, Katherine. I've seen you around on the blogs. Glad to see you HERE!

San said...

Paula, you've left me speechless. How'd you do that?

Lori Skoog said...

Where are you San???? It's been a long time again (you must be very busy).

Inge' said...

I found your blog through Chrysalis Dreams. I really enjoyed this post. I like the idea of writing to your younger self and letting her know that she can achieve her highest dream. I look forward to reading more of your posts.

indicaspecies said...

Here after a long time San. This is a prodigious post - thoughts from you to...you! Thank you for sharing.:)

My spirit within soars too just at the thought of setting off on yet another travel sojourn! Cheers.

imbeingheldhostage said...

This is a brilliant letter! I hope your 13 year-old self passes on some of this wisdom to my 13 year-old self.

jameil1922 said...

I am not enclosing a photograph. Lol. Blow her little mind, huh? I think my 13-yo self would be overjoyed at how I am now, but probably scared past what a 13yo considers a cool age (i'm nearing not cool territory daily). i'm always intrigued when i read letters to a younger self but can't think of what i'd say to a younger me.

perfecthindsight said...

Hi San ... I'm new to your posts, I hope you don't mind me dropping in. Algebra was a relative breeze compared with trigonometry (ugh!).

I have a 14 year old daughter & I have to say that I have better conversations with myself (through a time tunnel of 30years!) than I do sitting next to her sharing the same moment. Conversations with teenagers that are monosyllabic should be rearded as an achievement! Helen.

mihalis-halkida said...

Hello my name is Michael. I have seen your blog and it is perfect. We follow your blog from Greece and I wish you good fun and joy
A simple life, simple happiness
Greetings. Michael

A.Bananna said...

I did not care for math in school. it took too much time and too much brain work. But I did manage to get the best grade in class and I had to tutor other kids. hm....I was more of a science kid. LOL.

Amazing post! Thank you for sharing it with us!!

San said...

Lori, I've locked myself in the studio again. Hope to break out soon. Where's Houdini when I need him?

San said...

Inge, thanks much. I really look forward to your future visits.

San said...

Hostage, maybe we can form a 13-year-old-self support group.

San said...

Helen, let's not talk about trig. Even to our 13/14-year-old selves.

And as to those conversations with your teenage daughter, monosyllables are better than grunts at least. Keep on keepin' on. And please continue to visit.

San said...

Celine, thank you for stopping by as you leave for another soaring journey.

I look forward to reading about your latest adventure!

San said...

Jameil--headed into uncool territory? YOU???? NEVER.

San said...

Michael, thank you for stopping by. And your "simple" wishes are quite profound.

San said...

Anna, why am I not surprised about your determination? Mastering something you felt less confident in--to the point of leading others. That's remarkable!

You must have been off the charts in science.

Sally said...

Thanks for following me. I love this post, and love the idea of writing to yourself as a young girl.

Carol said...

Oh wow! And how you have soared!! Wonderful post. Wonderful.

San said...

Sally, you're welcome. It's a pleasure to follow you.

San said...

Carol, that lovely doll of yours makes such a sweet profile picture. I'm glad you enjoyed the post. Thanks much.

Hilary said...

Well I'm late to the party but your wonderful post make my heart soar. Brilliant.

San said...

Hilary, I'm so glad you made it. Your photographs do the same for me.

Kaizabella said...

Wow, thats such an incredibly helpful and wonderful blog!

Its probably the first time I've felt so uplifted in a few days and I really want to thank you!

Peter J. Crowley said...

San,
I know you and your 13 yo self. Great post. When in college studying photography a professor said "Every image you make is a self portrait." Since then that is the way I create.
So I see you at the other end of the hall. Music fills my mine from you post, "Expecting to Fly" Neil Young I am the Walrus some small band from Britain. for now I am flying off to a small fishing [trendy] village to shoot before an art group meeting tonight. More Mark Twain to come. The Waiter and food were excellent in Flagstaff. enjoy pjc PS Love the Painting.

San said...

Kaizabella, your comment has given me a lift. Thank you for that!

Peter J. Crowley said...

Correction. Expecting to Fly was The Buffalo Springfield. enjoy pjc

San said...

Peter, I like the quote from your art professor. I believe it might go for writers too--every book, every poem is an autobiography.

Bon voyage. And if the name of the small British band comes to you, let me know. ;-)

Janette Kearns Wilson said...

This is astonishing writing...I must follow your blog

Janette Kearns Wilson said...

This is astonishing writing...I must follow your blog

San said...

Janette, thank you! For your generous compliment. And for becoming a follower of my blog.

Avery -and- Bella said...

This post was amazing.

- Avery & Bella

Jeanne said...

Once again you just amaze me with your words. And tieing in algebra just perfect.