one page autobiography exercise WC Julie 6-2012
I was born into nature, a water fall sang itself into a little cement pond my father had built by the patio, animals were around, sunshine, a path winding on the hill which ran behind my house over to my father’s studio and my grandmother’s room in the back. I spent much of my time outside in the California sun, the ocean breezes not too far away over the San Diego mountains. Small windy roads barren of side walks woven between small cabin homes planted upon desert hills filled with sage brush, cactus and tumbleweeds. I played games, dug forts, built tree houses with the neighborhood boys in among the scorpions, tarantula spiders, and rattle snakes! We were well schooled in such things, including picking up any shiny pieces of glass we might see before it became the source of a fire burning down our homes. The flaming fingers of the sun magnified upon some dry parched piece of gray greasewood. If anyone saw a flame or smoke they came running with a shovel!
My father authentic, flamboyant, a well known industrial designer and teacher at Art Center College of Design. He inspired me to read and write and told me I could be anything I wanted, even President of the United States because I could learn to do anything in the library. He suffered from severe psoriasis and bursitis and would drink to ease the pain and I have a few painful memories interspersed with the more fond ones. My mother, much more shy and reserved was a great cook and taught me how to bake homemade bread, how to sew clothes and love people of all colors and religions.
My best friend, my childhood sweetheart, closer to me than my own sister, who did not like me very much, died on the operating table when we about about 12, leaving me to be consoled by my rat, a myna bird, my chameleons, a cat and skunk. I hated God for a while not understanding the sudden death of my life long friend who was not even ill. My future husband, slightly older, heard those tears and years later, when I was wheeled out of the delivery room with our second child, a boy, he said, “and his name is Andy” after our childhood friend.
Two years before came Denver our daughter, and me a mother only a year out of high school. We all moved to Colorado when Jerry got a job there and then onto Iowa. We had a huge garden growing a lot of our own foods and were still surrounded by a menagerie of animals including 2 milking goats, 2 ponies, 2 horses, 2 rabbits, dogs, a cat, gerbils, rats, birds and fish. I managed the house and garden and the children all their own animals. We worked hard and created a lot of our own fun in those days.
Eventually we came to rest where we wanted in the Pacific Northwest, bringing only a horse, 2 dogs, a cat and 2 birds along with us in an amazing journey in which a trailer broke behind the moving van in the middle of Yellowstone at the edge of a cliff. We became self employed artists for a while, creating hand made teddy bears from scratch for collectors for almost 10 years. Later some problems with our two dogs, dropped a book about animal communication into my hand which eventually inspired a new profession which also included my passion for writing arising once again. Morgine