God doesn't look at how much we do

Ade's First Communion

Easter Sunday 2011

While Easter Sunday did not start off propitiously, by 11:00 I saw a patch of blue sky in the West and thanked God for the promise of sun and dryer weather. So it was that the day was marvelous. It was great to host my second Easter luncheon and Easter egg hunt at my home.

Sara's Easter Egg Hunt reaction

Jane and mommy Susan.

Jane in her Easter Sunday best.

Jane, Sara, Kalin, Meri, Alex and Ryan

Yuki in cascarones confetti

©  2011 Hector V. Lee

Fumi Kimura 1970-2011

Good Friday’s pall extended until Saturday when I went to the Alemany Farmers Market and found a memorial for Fumi. She died on April 19^th after a long battle with cancer. People were there to grieve and remember this wonderful human being.

I came to know Fumi several years ago because she was so friendly and engaging. She was more interested in you than selling flowers. Her selection of flowers was never extensive. She had here lilies, chrysanthemums, sunflowers, Gerber daisies and, when in season, narcissus and marigolds, which would last two weeks at home since they were cut the day before. Through her I met Dale, and Angela (who gave me updates on Fumi’s condition), Anges and Brenda, who all donated time so the business could continue. Fumi had battled cancer before. She joked that the treatment had given her curly hair. As if she had come to the brink of death, she lived as witness to embrace life fully: live in the present and love those around you. But now cancer had come back with a vengeance and her body could not withstand the ravages of the disease and the effects of chemotherapy. But her spirit lives on in the people she impacted.

Now I when I go to the Farmer’s Market, I will think of Fumi as I pass her stall. I don’t know from whom I will purchase flowers, but when I do I will associate her with flowers and remember the beauty she brought others.

©  2011 Hector V. Lee

Way of the Cross on Haight

Jesus’ passion took place as a public spectacle in a public space. Targeted by those envious of him, the authorities had him condemned to death, a victim of capital punishment. Objectively, he was probably seen by those in his time as a poor soul who failed to conform to the norms of his society. He was alone except for the women who followed him his crucifixion. So it was that St. Agnes had its Stations of the Cross in the Haight. The procession was a witness to the Passion Jesus suffered and continues to suffer in his fellow humanity. Some people stared, some remembered, some were indifferent--no one was disrespectful. But the transcendent message of the Pascal Mystery takes place in the secular time of the market place.

©  2011 Hector V. Lee

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already there

Bad day

Running late on the first day of testing,

I arrive at school where the staff is locked out since the secretary is sick. Stressing

Hurriedly, I prep tests before the teachers arrive:

There are changes to the schedule and

Missing materials and proctors. Flexibility.

My boss tells me there was a BIG mistake in the budget. Compassion. 

Cuts, cuts, cuts. Fear.

I improvise an poorly-prepared lesson. Regret.

Tired and headached, 

I collaborate to prepare a meeting (which should have been done days before)

And our third presenter arrives winded. No parking. 

I discover a wellspring of unsourced anger.

There is no bad day, only challenged moments met with grace or not.

There is no bad day, when you start the day contented not for what you’d like

But for what you have,

And are given in the evening a brushed lavender sunset and reflective conversation with friends.

©  2011 Hector V. Lee

Pulp Fashion

Yoriko, Xavier, Kalin and I went to see Pulp Fashion The Art of Isabelle de Borchgrave at the Legion of Honor. The Belgian artist takes inspiration from European paintings and costumes in museums recreate these dresses on paper by painting, creasing, pleating, and weaving it. The result is a work not quite fashion or painting but something wholly other. It is paper dolls and (mostly) dresses all grown up (maybe that is why most of the visitors were women). She simplified the patterns she saw on fabric to get the spirit of the fabric rather than copy the exact detail. It was fascinating how she manipulated the paper to look like fabric. The use of lens cleaner paper to look like chiffon, transparent fabric was amazing. 

Dragonfly, Pear, Carnation, and Insect

While visiting my parents, our discussion turned on the recent death of Elizabeth Taylor. We commented on her glamorous life, her seven husbands, he diamond rings, her beauty (and violet eyes), her fame, wealth and a snippet of a story of a Mexican boy who had asked her and Richard Burton to be his godparents.

My mom summarily commented, “And she was never happy,” while I don’t know how she became an authority on Liz Taylor’s contentment.

Desiree asked, “And what is the secret to happiness?”

“It depends. In each of us there is something that makes us happy. What may make one person happy may not make the next person happy. It is our responsibility to find it. The secret is to find yours.”

My mother is on to something. Could it be that a window is opening?

Dragonfly, Pear, Carnation, and Insect by Joris Hoefnagel

© 1999 J. Paul Getty Trust