A Dream of Another Life

I've been to Dianne's home many times over the years and each time I imagine what life would be like here on the East Coast. I was born in Honolulu but only lived there until I was six. My family moved to East Los Angeles back in the early 50's so I grew up in a Jewish and Mexican neighborhood. One night I was celebrating the Sabbath and the next night I was helping a family make tamales. And in all that time, I never related to being Japanese, but that's another story. I used to tell my friends that I was forced to live with this weird Japanese family. My friends referred to me lovingly as their little Nipsekan.

As my business grew, I traveled some 25 to 30 weekends a year from one coast to the other. You can imagine how many wonderful friends I have made over the years. My friend Dianne is an artist, a Renaissance woman in every way. She just had a one woman show in Marblehead, MA and just had a book published of her Mail Art correspondence with an acquaintance who just had the lowdown on

how to self-publish. I've become a part of the household since the early 90's and it's been wonderful to experience what life on the East Coast is like on my many visits. Since I have lived alone since I was 20, it's pretty amazing to be thrown in an active household full of pets and guests and friends and so much stuff to do every day. Being single, I have never known what it is to have children, pets and so much responsibility to everyone and everything. All I've had to worry about is myself and my company. At its peak, I had 28 employees and it often felt like I was the matriarch of a huge family. But the bottom line is that I went home alone and had peace and quiet on a regular basis. And yet, I love all the drama and action and constant stimuli that goes along with this family.

Another attraction is Dianne's house. Built in 1893, it's a beauty. Three stories and a full basement. In contrast I live in a 2 bedroom trailer built in 1983. Climbing to my third floor guestroom is a challenge every night, but the view is worth it. From this Swampscott home on a slight hill, I can see the ocean with Nahant (a skinny peninsula) ahead and the cityscape of Boston in the distance to the right. Yesterday was a glorious sunny and clear day in the upper 60's. This morning the entire landscape is covered in beautiful snow. The sun is bright (around 40 degrees) and reflects the blinding white apparition. For me, it's a humbling experience. So cold, so beautiful and so scary. My friends relay stories of accidents, cars sliding down the road, shoveling snow, etc.

A few years ago, Dianne sent a package to my office. I was so anxious to open it, I tore into it back in the production dept. As I began pulling out all the wonderful gifts she had sent, we discovered a photo of Dianne's naked rear end, completely purple and black and yellow from having fallen down the front porch steps on her behind on some black ice. My staff had a rude introduction to my friend from the East. We laughed all morning.

The photo of the stairs is my view from the third floor landing. Those large life-size dolls in the living room are some of the dolls we brought back from the one-woman show that Dianne had in Marblehead, MA. There will be another post on this later. I'm just trying to get a grip on how to do this blog. I'm really working blindly here. I have to say, this is fun. It's so much quicker than writing in my personal journals. Wish I could figure out how to move these pictures around. Oh well, I'll get the hang of it... eventually?