It feels like we’re hurling toward the holidays and the beginning of a new year – an election year, to boot. Make it stop! The last big event of the summer is the August 12th Peddler’s Faire which I’ve been attending since the early 1970s. Antiques are what I’m after and they are becoming increasingly hard to find. Young folks don’t want OBF (old brown furniture). The Waterfront Festival is now in the bag, a big success I gather from the cheers of music lovers reverberating throughout downtown all weekend.
Attended Jerrold Turner and Nikki Basch Davis’ art opening Saturday at Gallery 621. The duo have painted together for decades are are primarily responsible for bringing plein air painting to this neck of the woods. Jerry greeted old friends and reminisced with painter Peter Brown about the early days painting with Lundy Siegriest and Pam Glover. Jerry’s subject matter has evolved into fantasy and humor. My favorite was a painting of several of Edward Munch’s “Screamers” howling at the moon observed by a couple of tyrannosauruses — tyrannosauri?— howling back. Nikki’s work has turned from primarily landscape toward figurative works of family and connection.
Had just finished reading Nikki’s memoir “The Second Scar: A Journey of Survival” written under her birth name — Nechama Goldberg. Nikki (Ama) relates the terrifying and heartbreaking story of her early childhood in Latvia, fleeing from the Nazis and then Stalin’s Russia, trudging across Eastern Europe on foot and in freight cars, as she huddles beneath her mother Lena’s coat. Detained in refuge camps from Poland to Marseille they eventually make their way to Palestine where they encounter hostility as unwelcome immigrants — history repeating itself today. Nikki will speak about her childhood experiences on August 23, at 7 pm at a Benicia Library free event. Books are available at Bookshop Benicia.
I was passing by artist Robert Arneson’s studio on my way to Benicia Fitness when I heard someone calling my name. “Sarah, up here.” Above me on the balcony Kirk, artist Robert’s Arneson’s youngest son, was watering the plants. “Check out my father’s archive of works, which is now up on-line,” he said. I did when I got home and was thrilled by the content — extensive and beautifully organized — a major accomplishment. According to the website, “The Archive holds the most complete records of Arneson’s studio practice, including logs detailing his process and materials, as well as an extensive inventory of images of his work. Its holdings also encompass Arneson’s childhood drawings and comics, papers related to his professional career, personal correspondence, and ephemera.” Robertarnesonarchives.org
Drove over to my dentist on E. 2nd for a cleaning where the hygienist regaled me with stories about her patients. Was curious how she got so many stories when her patients’ mouths were otherwise occupied. My new dentist introduced herself — a beautiful young woman with confidence, caring, and compassion. She cancelled the new crown I was supposed to get because she didn’t want to disturb the oldest baby tooth in Benicia’s history. Many dental schools now are at least half women, quite a change from back in the day when my sadistic male dentist filled my teeth without the use of novocaine.
“What a kontry,” as Russian comedian Yakov Smirnoff used to say when comparing the U.S. favorably against his homeland. “What a town,” I say about Benicia. Walked up First to UPS to get a birthday card as they have quite a selection of funny ones, and was complemented on my Santa Fe flea market necklace by one of the staff. What’s your name?” I asked. “Sarah,” she said. “So is mine.” Is yours with an “h”? she asked. “Yes,” I said.” “What is your middle name?” I inquired. “Ann,” she replied. “So is mine,” I exclaimed! “Do they every call you Sarita?” I ventured. “Yes,” she said. I offered her my necklace which she declined saying that it looked better on me. What a town!
Saw Steve Johnston again on the lawn at the State Capital with his wagon full of animals — three dogs and two cats who he takes out every day for exercise. The big gray is Dimitri the youngest cat, who was found in a parking lot in Vallejo. As we talked, Dimitri ran off in pursuit of a bird, his leash trailing behind — a cheetah on the hunt in the Serengeti. The prey escaped and it was back to the Radio Flyer for Dimitri.
After picking out the perfect leopard scarf from the basket on the porch of Elisa’s Cottage, I chatted with Shawn who handles the vintage clothing side. Told her about my recent excursion to Port Coast where I fell in love with an old chair outside the old Warehouse — an iron cafe chair with seat and back decorated with broken pottery. “Oh, I work at the Warehouse and know just the chair. If it’s still there I’ll give it to you. Don’t get your hopes us, though. I think it broke and they got rid of it.” Wow! Thought about the chair all week and Saturday drove over to see if it was still there. It was. So I asked Ivana the manager if I could buy it. “I’ll give it to you,” said she. She wouldn’t take any money and said, “Just go in and order something to drink and we’ll be even.” I ordered an iced tea and sat in the shade grateful for my life, good fortune, and the kindness of strangers. What a kontry!
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Letters From Benicia 