canvases! In my day jon I managed this little coffee store at the mall, and, at night, I painted. ... I don't verbalize what I do. But I will say that my canvases have traced the lines of my emotional life. ... I don't kid myself about my talent, but I am not untalented, either. People do buy my work. I've ...

of shore, I saw that my father's work van was parked in the driveway. He had probably ... stopped in for lunch. I came up the beach-side steps-which my father had built many years before-padding ... clear and disembodied as I approached. "Call her up," my mother was saying. ...

"Another girl. They're both gems." I've forgotten to take off my shoes, so she ... lifts my foot onto the footrest and tugs at the laces. She's changed in these few years. Ma­ ... blouse. On her forehead, at her hairline, a nut-brown spot the size of my fingertip is shaped like an ...

Page 72 from Issue 123 in Beijing; and managed to steal some leisure time from my busy sched­ ule ... take off her leather sandals and knee socks. By then I would get absent, minded, forgetting my ... intention to use my nose to sniff the sour smell around her neck­ the girls all agreed that I had a lovely ...

axles and camels were out of the question; staying on my feet was my goal. Sonia must have known this ... but she was wonderfully patient and my lessons allowed me to be near her, which made this otherwise ... became my goal to lure Sonia down there, especially since I had noticed there was another much smaller ...