Hope A 2/23/16 Hope A 2/23/16

Monday!

Oh New England of my youth, I am almost sorry to tell you that February in California is the best.

I've never hated Mondays. I've rarely had one full time job and never one with a Monday through Friday routine. I used to dread Sundays in high school but those milquetoast afternoons were always worse than Monday mornings. If you know me at all, you may know I rarely take a day off and it is almost never planned. I have a schedule for sure, that I write and re-write in my planner. I even plan a day off.

The past few months have been rough--Andy's schedule is constantly shifting, and I have been feeling the lasting effects of loosing a good friend with secrets. I love rain and hibernating and baths but lately the noise of the city and the noise in my brain have me craving wide open spaces of light. We rode to the park last week where I discovered the sketchiest day time bathroom outside a BART station. I read on the couch last week. Both were good. But not wholly satisfying.

This morning we headed out unplanned to breakfast. The coffee seemed stronger and the sun warmer so I convinced Andy to adventure through the shipyards of the port of Oakland to the most expansive and underused park in Oakland. Views of San Francisco across the bay, of the bridge of the hills to the southwest. It is a weird oasis, quiet and large, mostly used by Canadian geese. Benches face the Bay, there is an observation tower and it isn't a Superfund site as I suspected. I do not know why it is here. I have written about it before but every visit is a reminder that I am not long for the city life, even with donuts and coffee. I'll share my secret place with you again because there is room for us both. And if you ever want company to see the sun set, I'm in.

I love this weird park with its AT-ST walkers and grass

Hope A 2/5/16 Hope A 2/5/16

Luck Schmuck

Written for my sister, Kim, for her 37th birthday, and read at the Lucky & zine reading ,both on January 7th 2016.

Today is my sister's 37th birthday. My favorite number. My favorite sister (though also the only sister I grew up with). 37: Prime number. Odd and indivisible.

My sister was born January 7th 1979, the thirteenth day of Christmas--unlucky day of clearing the plates, taking down the tree, sweeping up after the wise men and getting back to work. Unlucky birthday of too close to Christmas, and extra unlucky if you care about football, playoff season and your 7th birthday party (here we go again) was held on the same day as the New England Patriots AFC playoff game versus the Miami Dolphins. Its bad enough to have your birthday smushed up against Christmas but then a tailgating themed party? Our 8 year old neighbor Josh Ross was almost sent home for wearing Dolphins colors in a strictly New England Patriots household. They tolerated my interest in the Minnesota vikings because it was never a contest and they all knew I just liked the purple and gold---ominous foretelling to my years at LSU live Purple bleed Gold.) Back to the party; we were an hour north of Boston, not Florida, you could tell by the snowdrifts, and the winner of the game was heading to the Superbowl against the Chicago Bears (and my birthday twin Walter Peyton) in New Orleans, my future home (this is too much!) but I was more interested in the Superbowl Shuffle. But who could blame an 8 year old boy with his lucky/unlucky red hair and freckles to choose the soft tropical turquoise and orange over the staunch red white and blue. It was just a game. The Patriots won the playoff game but then lost the Superbowl by a million, a few days after that the Challenger spaceship burst mid air on a million televisions. That was weeks later. On this day, my family relented and let Josh in for cake.

I was born mid-summer , July 25, 1977 so I've always believed in the number 7. Seventh month, 25th day , 77th year. The 25th is a good day too: Christmas, the day I got my braces off, an anniversary. Christmas in July. 2 plus 5 equals 7. Lucky 7. By the way, Walter Peyton, the aforementioned running back with my birthday was born in 1953 and wore uniform number 34. Thirty four: 3 plus 4 is seven. Also his nickname was “Sweetness” which is just about my favorite sports nickname I know.

There is a flaw to my 7 love. If you want to be strict about the rules of numerology--add all the digits of . 7th month, 25th day, 1977, 7 plus 2 plus 5 plus 1 plus 9 plus 7 plus7 equals 38-- so close! Add those digits: 3 plus 8 equals 11-- one plus one equals 2. Two! Such a solid, reliable number, firm like 2 feet, a relationship, but also a line, two endpoints. But what is religion without a little wiggle room, even science gets reformed according to needs sometimes. So ill take 7, soften the edges, no corners, a little lopsided, asymmetric, that sounds about right. I'm romanticizing numbers here but I will get back to my point. You're 37, sister. From here, you make your own luck.

Hope A 12/30/15 Hope A 12/30/15

Best Moments of 2015

Spoiler: they almost all involve crying

1. Reading from Light on Yoga at my teacher training graduation...Last January I began yoga teacher training unsure of where it might lead me. I attended classes, I read, I studied, I often felt like it wasn't making sense. Then, every once in a while, it would. At our graduation we were all offered a moment to read something, to share, to talk. Some people thanked our teachers. At least one Mary Oliver poem was read. And I read this, BKS Iyengar's instructions for headstand:

The best way to overcome fear is to face with equanimity the situation of which one is afraid. Then one gets the correct perspective, and one is not frightened anymore. To topple over while learning the head stand is not as terrible as we imagine. If one over balances, one should remember to loosen the interlocked fingers, relax, go limp and flex the knees. Then one will just roll over and smile.

Life lessons from Iygengar. Lighten up. It is not so scary. Roll over and smile.

2.Being in the same room with so many people I haven't seen together in so long, if ever, for the best/worst reason...Travis' death in August was unexpected in its form and timing. I felt like I had missed so much to not understand how he could have arrived at that end. In October I was able to fly to NY to meet up with some of my closest friends, including a few close friends who I had never seen together. I met new friends who I had somehow not yet met. We laughed about how uncomfortable Travis would have been with this gathering, this celebration of him. We cried too. I was mostly just teary eyed through out, damp in the corners, until the last moment when someone sweetly hugged me and it was terrible and comforting all at once.

3. Teaching my first yoga class...I was on my way to a friend's first class when she got into a minor car accident and asked me to cover. My first class wasn't supposed to be for a few days and so I should've been ready and I wasn't sure if I was but I did it. Not too many students and probably there were a few things I wish I hadn't said or done. Its been six months, at 2-3 classes per week and I still get nervous often enough but I still like it every time.

4.Every time I decide to keep going....I'm getting older and I am less impulsive about wanting to give up. I can see the long view more often. That doesn't mean I don't get frustrated with situations, people, work. But most of the time I decide it is worth the effort not to give up and find a way to make to work, as long as there is a way to make it work. And usually, so far, that has reaped unexpected results that I would have never know.

5. Meeting a friend and finding a very dark place...I have been living in Oakland for three years but only recently have I felt that I have friends I can just call up when I need to. One night, Andy was at work and I didn't want to be alone. I didn't have to explain. I felt lucky to have a friend to meet me, walk me to a very dark tiny park, talk for a bit and then go meet Andy at work to ride home with him. It was the most comfortable I have felt here in three years.

6.Hiking on a forever hike in shitty shoes but getting to the real story...August 2015 was the 10th anniversary of Hurricane Katrina. I went to the beach with other Louisiana friends. Quickly I realized my relationship to this experience was different. We played card games, drank on the beach I went for walks alone, wrote letters, missed my friends in New Orleans. The next day we went for a hike to a waterfall, underestimating the 5 mile hike and not bringing enough water. It was amazing to see the waterfall that spilled right onto the beach, despite our thirst. On the way back, finding ways to distract out selves from hunger and thirst we took turns telling stories. It was almost as good as the tall sweet can of sugary water I drank an hour later. My black glitter keds are still dusty from the hike.

7. My birthday. The whole day. Gin and tonic and pizza in a party dress, writing letters with friends at my art show, coming home. I don't think I cried though.

8. Swimming. Wait. Did I really not go swimming this year? We stayed in a cabin but it was too cold. We stayed at the beach but only walked in the sand. I went to Tennessee but the river was low and I wasn't sure we should swim in it. I napped on Glass Beach with the other members of subset as we contemplated buying a papermaking studio, but I was wearing a sweater. With Derek gone this summer did I really forget to go swimming? Maybe? Maybe not.Wait! Lake Anza: Me vs the Very Hot Sand (and the Threat of Swimmers Itch). Phew. ed. my dad wrote to me that I did go swimming in Tennessee. He brought us to a state park. We had a picnic. I stayed in the water most of the time though I tried to read too. Like when I was little and my dad would bring us to the pond in our hometown. Except my sister and I are nicer to each other now. Yay for swimming.

Ok, goal for 2016, more outside, more swimming. I think I have crying and friends down.

Hope A 8/12/15 Hope A 8/12/15

The Paths We Choose, part 2

When I designed last month's postcard about sadness and trying to stay useful, I had no idea a friend was going through such a difficult time. When I wrote about ways to deal with sadness, to feel useful and engaged, I did not know my friend was in rehab. A short letter came at the end of the month, and then, two days later, a small pile of book and a birthday note. They were brief, hopeful and yet still a surprise to me.

A week later he took his own life.

There are a lot of "what ifs" after a suicide. What if I had called? Did I tell him I love him in the last letter? Did he know? Did he even receive it? Unexpected deaths always carry the weight of a path severed, a plan altered. Here are the choices we make, here are the choices made for us, by others.

It is difficult to convey the weight of this loss. We had not seen each other in years but wrote frequently. The ripples of his kindness, generosity, willingness to listen, and sincerity affected many people I know all over the country. It has been comforting to see the social media outreach of people who knew him, the ever-growing circle of friends, acquaintances, pen pals, fans of his writing and music. It is too late to tell him one more time how much he meant to us, though whatever darkness he faced was clearly all engulfing. His struggle was fierce, he was full of love and sometimes that is not enough.

Reading through his letters and zines, I find references to difficulty and darkness, but always, always there is a strength, a determination to rise above. He fought a good fight and hopefully his words will continue to inspire others, encourage love and criticism as a form of love. If there must be a lesson let it be this: stay smart, alert, questioning and open, friends. Please don't stuff down the sadness, it is all a part of this. Bring it into the light. Love love love.

Travis Fristoe died August 7, 2015. There have been more than a few writings about how he affected those around him, and I especially appreciate this from Nate Powell. He is survived by a baby daughter, Astrid, his wife Avery and his stepdaughter. A fund was started to help this family, including baby Astrid, through this time and beyond. Contribute if you like at http://www.gofundme.com/4vrg8jw4 .

I doubt this will be the last I write of this. Maybe next time, there will be more stories. Like that time I was his houseguest for maybe too many weeks. I was homeless, traveling, dealing with a difficult break-up. I didn't sleep at night. More than one night I climbed the tree in front of his house as the sun came up, listening to tapes on a walkman, until his neighbors came out and left for work, kindly ignoring the girl in the tree. Travis never said I was a bad houseguest and let me visit a bunch more times after that. Rest in peace and power.

Hope A 7/26/15 Hope A 7/26/15

38 (Thirty- Grateful)

I talk a lot about the weather here. After almost 3 years in Oakland, the endlessly dry, sunny days, never-hot-enough summers, the lack of seasons, the numerous perfectly temperate days still make me uneasy. There were a few days this week, finally warm enough to think of swimming, to feel the heat enveloping me even as a breeze brushed by. I say I miss sweating, swimming, staying inside because of a rainstorm, the dramatic skies that accompany a change in weather, but I also miss my friends in other places. The amenities of my Bay Area life are plentiful, but I would trade a dozen vegan doughnuts for lunch in Philadelphia once or twice a month. You can have a bay view sunset for a autumn evening in NH. In exchange for 2 days access to the print shop, could I spend one weekend a month in New Orleans? What would it take to be able to ride to a friends house in Portland, NY, Seattle, Tucson? But there is no such barter system. The down-side to a wonderfully adventurous and mobile 20's and a more stationary late 30's is that I you can't live in the same place as all the people you love. Or even half. Luckily, many people are charmed by the Bay Area and I had a few old friends here when I arrived. And I have met a few great people and I am grateful to have them as a part of my life now. It is a slow process, nothing like the instant friendships of late night adventures after a show, while on tour, or a penal turned date turned penal again. But it comes.

I complain a lot about California, about Bay Area drivers (if you are going to cede the right of way when it was yours, you don't have to feel smug about it). But slowly, a circle of friends and acquaintances build, layers, and I find myself talking about sequencing yoga classes and discoveries on our personal practice with other teachers. I meeting other printers for coffee and discuss business plans. I have friends who want to talk about art, and music, and even a few who will hear the stories I don't think they'd understudy because we are from different places, yet realizing our troubles--and our joys-- are more universal than that. And you are willing to come to my place on a Saturday night, meet my other friends from seemingly disparate places and situations and find some common ground. And eat cake. Thank's y'all for a very sweet birthday.

This was also published at Keep Breathing, a blog about yoga-related writing. Not just poses but living life too.

Hope A 7/12/15 Hope A 7/12/15

In My Backyard

So I won't even post what my front yard looks like. We have a large picture window, which offers a view from my studio space onto an exciting stage of drama. If I lay on the rug and look up at the sky I can see the tops of the three eucalyptus trees that survive the concrete plaza's offerings. But if I look right outside there is a park, a plaza really, where a bunch of folks hang out all day and a few regulars make it interesting. It is mostly harmless, folks tending to keep to them selves, with loud laughter and talking and sometimes yelling. Most people don't recognize my street name but if I name the intersection of the nearest 2 streets, most know the spot. I have a lot of complicated feelings about living here, but there are some bright spots.

This month's postcard asks you to write about your favorite spot in your neighborhood. Most Saturdays, Andy and I walk four blocks to another rowdy park, walk through a small handmade gate into an oasis. City Slicker Farms have been bringing produce, garden starts and eggs to West Oakland since 2001. The urban garden and farmstand in our neighborhood is only a part of what they do. They have a nursery a few blocks away, a backyard gardening program helping to build raised bed gardens in residential and small businesses in the community. They recently purchases a lot of land not too far away that will include a playground, and an outdoor classroom and so much more. They just completed a fundraising event for construction costs, surpassing their goal by 10%.

Our Saturday walks lead us past abandoned empty houses, families outside, newish condos, artist lofts converted from a school and to the shady corner where the farmstand is set up every Saturday. Recently, they moved the stand inside, allowing for a glimpse into the garden. Prices are sliding scale, allowing anyone to get fresh vegetables. I usually pick up some flowers too, and on the way out we stop to see the chickens. I've seen a mix of people shopping at the stand but Joseph and the volunteers will chat for a minute if you want. Two weeks ago, I gave them a copy of this month's card. If you live in West Oakland, stop in!

City Slicker Farms farm stand is open every Saturday at 10 am until they run out. Prices are on a scale and if you are able, give them a little extra. It is an amazing asset to the community.

Hope A 4/27/15 Hope A 4/27/15

Collaboration Station

screen print created for california independent bookstore day

Green Apple Books in San Francicso, contacted me about printing a broadside to be given away for California's Independent Bookstore Day on May 2nd. Even before I knew I would be printing something approved by John Waters I was in! Bookstores! Broadsides! and cursing!

I sent three designs, one of them featuring hand-drawn type because I like to take the most time possible before I get paid. I love this trick though, drawing type from a sample book. My lack of perfectionism means that even traced type scanned into the computer still has a rough homemade feeling. The bookstore and John Waters agreed. We settled on a pale blue paper, and black ink and I was off to The Grease Diner in Oakland, to reconnect with my screen printing skills.

If you want one of these posters, you will have to show up to Green Apple Books this Saturday, take a photo of yourself and post it to twitter, facebook or instagram with the hashtag #bookstoreday and claim one of these. And you can still get tickets to see John Waters speak on May 20th.

Also filed under "where have you been, Hope?" are these cassette covers I printed for crimewave music. Small Doses released two collections, available together or as Collection II only. Dreamy droney sometimes anxiety rattling stuff. I worked with Andy of crimewave to design these covers, based on photographs I took, and then created black and white images to print, using silver ink on black paper. They came out nicer than we could've imagined.

double cassette release from crimewave via small doses

Lastly, when my friend Emily asked me to add the outline of a grand piano for the business card for her father, neither of us could find a suitable image. So with a ruler, a decent free hand outline and some photoshop editing, we found something just right. I love printing business cards!

Hope A 3/17/15 Hope A 3/17/15

Huckleberry Preserve

Occasionally, we get a friend's car for a few days or a few months. The transportation system is better in the Bay than residents make it sound--you can reach many places though it might take some time. It is nice sometimes though to pick a spot on the map and explore. A few weeks ago, when I think it was still snowing in Boston, we drove a little bit to explore a park near my favorite park. Huckleberry Preserve is a spot in a volcanic valley, a botanical park with a self-guided tour of unique intermingling of California species. It is only a 20 minute drive from downtown Oakland and quiet and full of wonder. Also it is an easy hike, more like a walk with incline. Nevertheless, we treated ourselves to vegan burgers afterwards.

Then, as if the day couldn't get better, we returned to my favorite cemetery in Oakland. It is large, reaching up a long hill, and there is always something new to see. We drove to the top, found a way around a fence and kept heading up, all the way to the top f the hill. Since we moved here I have been looking up at the top of this hill, thinking that's where I want to be. We made it to a concrete slab and the finest view.