Mountains or hills?

Walnut Creek, CA

Written last night:

This morning I followed mountains west. Or maybe they were hills.  How is a flat-lander from Florida to know? I drove 90 minutes to Walnut Creek, CA, outside Oakland, where there was a regional meeting of art quilters. It was a chance to get to know the area and meet some people who share my inclinations.

Unlike the ocean, mountains show themselves way before you get there, so you can enjoy them longer. As I left Sacramento, they were a violet smudge up ahead. I thought it might stay that way, but in five minutes or so the edges began to sharpen up. Oh my! As you drive toward mountains they become real! I got all worried that I might be driving slanted soon. Thank goodness I grew up in hilly Steubenville, Ohio. It all came back to me: turn your wheels when you park on a hillside; that way you’ll tend toward the curb. And what else?? Quick! Where is my emergency brake? I had no idea! In flat Florida an emergency brake is a flourish, not a life-saving device. My heart was popping, and then, just in time, the road (I-80?) turned away from the high points. 

Then back. Is it a hill or a mountain up ahead? Oh, these were hills; Rosa and I were rolling on earth plump like mounds of bread dough, yeasty and golden, spotted with a few trees. 

Oh, no! Now mountains! Those sharp points! 

Thankfully, we veered away again, across a bridge over water deep enough for container ships. I marvel at the large imaginations that designed all I was passing through: fields and silos and tall buildings and apartments and farm stands selling peaches and cucumbers and tomatoes. 

Walnut Creek itself I must learn to love. It seems a manicured place. Several women at the church where the meeting was held said they are a “20-minute BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit)-ride from Berkeley.” So, I gather, it’s where ideas bloom. Glad to be here! 

Then, in the afternoon I returned to a still-messy place that feels like home. Zing was waiting for me and he hadn’t pee'd during all the hours I was gone. So he’s at home here too. We went for a walk and then I talked for a long time with my friend Pam. I fried some bread on my new stove and had a salad. Now I’m listening to opera (don’t ask me what!) and looking out the big window at the night and the scattered lights in the office building across the street. 

Good night!

Love,

K

Speakers discussed the Modern Quilt Movement
(above and below)

More than 50 members of
Studio Art Quilt Associates
 from northern California and Nevada met Saturday

Pati Fried, Cathy Miranker and Tara Faughnan, were speakers

(I think quilt detail above is by Tara Faughnan, but not certain)