Blog
Linda Watanabe McFerrin: Travel, Here and There/San Francisco
Noche de Los Muertos by Linda Watanabe McFerrin Remembering a dark night in San Francisco … We are pressed, our backs to the wall, in Balmy Alley, a bottleneck of a back street in San Francisco’s Mission District, as the dead drift by. Skeletons on stilts, in bridal gowns, playing drums in steel bands—Los Muertos, The Dead—proceed in almost single-file procession through a cramped alleyway that feels like the birth canal to another world. We are skeletons too. My husband Lowry and our friend Jeff are tall, gaunt, black-caped and spectral. The white markings on the chest of Lowry’s black shirt suggest a ribcage. Jeff’s black gloves are spidered...
Read MoreLinda Watanabe McFerrin: Travel, Here and There
As a child, I spent years growing up under a wide blue Montana sky, cocooned in insecurity and stiff little dresses, a miniscule mote in a landscape where square miles were the yardstick by which distances were measured. And I saw nothing. I didn’t see the way dawn touched the short black mountains, first with bruisy periwinkle fingers, then with broad rosy palms, or how ...
Read More
