Zacha

The wooden walks of Mendocino echo Zacha for me. 

He always asked me if I wanted a cup of tea. His large chiseled face and basso voice thundering throughout his studio, he accepted my refusal with a delicate toasting of his giant hand and small cup.  Not a handsome man I thought, features too large even for his massive face and head. Yet there was promise in his eyes and a delicate edge to his smile. When I asked about Toshi Yoshida, his head tilted and he explained wood-block prints to me and his friendship with Toshi.  He was so proud of Toshi’s work, always modest of his own. He introduced me to a world I would forever want to sip.

The wooden walks of Mendocino echo Zacha for me.  

Whale Tales…

The higher picks of Klugh and his nylon-strung guitar threaten Deja vu as the redwood hallway approaches. The sun filters through the giants in angled beams and splashes the road making long shadows and lighting the ferns afire.  Ancient aromas, scorched yesterdays, and long fallen allies are the “garden” here on 128. 

The river becomes ocean and a fresh salt of air steams through my nose and weds my eyes to a blue expanse- a pause, a look at a welcoming spout with a vigilance that knows the reward I search for -Kenny offers a falsetto ballad through the tides and into whatever mood my lover, the ocean, shows me…

Mendocino Magic awaits, and for a time nothing holds me; even my shoelaces are nervous...

IT

3 Generations!