Dear blog readers, it has been over 20 years since self has been to Mendocino. It was only a year after her wedding, and self and hubby were still practically strangers (ha ha ha ha!). And why self had Dearest Mum along, Lord only knows. Except, now that she reflects a bit, self remembers that Dearest Mum, who had scarcely paid attention to self when self was growing up, suddenly discovered her second daughter around the time of self’s engagement, and then kept thinking of excuses to visit self and hubby (in their crummy first apartment), and this caused no end of tension.
Anyhoo, there we were, the three of us, in Mendocino, in Heritage House. And self remembers that she bought a beautiful ceramic pot (which she still has to this day, in a glass cabinet in her dining room, next to pots by Jon Pettijohn and Nelfa Querubin).
In Mendocino now, self doesn’t see potters. Instead, she sees a lot of glass, a lot of metalwork. Where oh where did the potters go?
One thing self seems to have forgotten is how beautiful this stretch of northern California coast is, how wild and craggy. And, on the drive up, on 128, she and Daphne passed through redwood forests. Actual forests! Where there was a kind of ghostly twilight, and giant ferns, and self felt the whole mystery of the north. What powerful magic this place must have had, for the native people who lived here.
Today, self stumbled upon a bookstore right next to the Mendocino Hotel, where the last conference dinner was held (James Houston was the keynote speaker, and a very moving speaker he was). Just across the street were the cliffs. Whenever self looked through the bookstore windows, she could see the surf. My God, she told the salesperson at the cash register. What a view you have here, you are so lucky. And the salesperson said yes, she was very lucky.
Twenty-four years ago, when self was last here, she wasn’t even a mother. She wasn’t even a writer. Look at what she has become. She is here again, after all these years, because Charlotte Gullick, director of the Mendocino Coast Writers Conference, took a chance. Took a chance on self. Will wonders never cease?
