Wednesday, June 4, 2014

Tianenmen Square

That day, I drew/painted trees, pages and pages of trees lined up in military precision like tanks. Big canvasses, and I wept as I drew. I was teaching kids art with Marsha Connell at the California Museum of Art in Santa Rosa, Duane Jones, the curator, handed me large posterboards. And I drew and drew, like a young child. A friend of mine, Bei Dao escaped—only because Marti Mooij from Poetry International had arranged a ticked at the airport for a reading. The fax machine (pre-email days) was the savior of the day. Bei Dao made his way to the airport. The rest is history.

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