November 21, 2012 Click here for a full portion
He raises both hands to touch the cloth, asks, Which is this? This is persimmons, Father. Oh, the feel of the wolftail on the silk, the strength, the tense precision in the wrist. I painted them hundreds of times eyes closed. These I painted blind. Some things never leave a person: scent of the hair […]
October 19, 2012 Click here for a full portion
When I was a little girl, I often asked my mom why I had brown eyes when she had bright blue eyes. Surely if I was her daughter, I would also have the blue eyes that I so hankered after? She would always smile and patiently explain to me that things like the colour of your eyes or hair; or the shape of your hands and feet are things that you inherited from your parents, and that there was no way of telling which bit you’d get from which parent.