August Fifth


Greg and I have just returned from a long trip to California, and so, for a change, I’m posting a current sketchbook page. There is a reason, which is – as Greg and I like to quote the ancient Greeks – “sweet-bitter.”

The time has come for me to say, out loud in my blog, that my son Alex died 28 years ago when he was 4. He was my only son and, God bless us, I miss him yet. If you know me, you know this about me; if you don’t, perhaps you have sensed the undercurrent, the between-the-lines, of our story.

So while in California, while experiencing much difficulties and much glories, on the anniversary of his death, August 5, I was lucky enough to spend the day in my favorite pursuit: sitting quietly (by a cold, still-running California creek) in the shade, Greg beside me at his own work, with my sketchbook in my lap.

  • On this page I mention Alan Blackman. He is a Bay Area calligrapher of distinction and a gentle man I know just enough to know how special he is. His show, “Letters to Myself,” currently at the San Francisco Public Library, is too wonderful to describe, but consists of many of the hundreds of First Day Stamp Covers that he has created in his lifetime. I encourage you to see for yourself, if in the city, or check it out on his website: It is, as he says, “his life’s work.”



3 thoughts on “August Fifth

  1. “with all the depth and fragility of my little broken (open) heart”. So perfect, Christi. You have inspired me with your courageous fragility and gratitude even through such profound sadness since the day we met. Thank you for continuing to inspire! LOVE!!

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