The pottery my wife makes

Living in Los Angeles had been like living inside a movie. The movie never stopped, even when I slept, and I became exhausted.

When I moved to San Francisco three years ago, the city moved into me like a series of still images.

I slowed down and took pictures of almost everything I saw. Nothing was too ordinary. I took pictures at Our Court cafe on the corner Clement & 11th while I ate the $4.29 lunch special. The funny woman who runs the place was a favorite subject. I took pictures of the underside of The Golden Gate Bridge, from the ramp at the north end where I had to carry my bike from east to west in order to continue to the Marin headlands. I took a picture of the lightbulb hanging from the ceiling in the poetry section at Browser Books. And so on.

The pictures were good for my writing, and I wrote a small book of 5-line poems--San Francisco poems--called Cinquets. I made 100 copies and gave them to friends and other interested parties.

There are 15 photographic images in Cinquets, including an image I staged of 3-wadded up balls of white paper in the window-sill at Mary Risley's house on Washington St. in which Lea Ann and I were then living.

Lea Ann brought her potter's wheel to San Francisco, and threw plates and cups and bowls in the basement of Mary's house. She got better and better and better at what she was doing. When we moved to the Presidio, friends would come to our house and ask about her work. Sometimes they wanted to know where they could buy a set of her dishes or a cup. More often than not, she'd make a present of her work rather than charge money.

The image above is a place setting of a plate, saucer, bowl, mug, and cup made by Lea Ann and on display for sale at Sue Fisher King's store on Sacramento Street. I took a picture of it yesterday.