I enjoyed reading your essay on the idea of California. It stimulated my own recollections of growing up there. My parents and I came as refugees from Europe when I was just a year old, and we landed with a sponsoring family in a very rural part of Los Angeles, on a Mexican chicken farm. It took my family some years to work their way out of poverty, but for me growing up in southern California was profoundly influential on my perception of life. My parents could not have given me a better gift than bringing me to this land of huge blue skies, perpetual sunshine, gorgeous landscapes and the endless beaches of the Pacific Ocean.
I wasn't really aware of California's influence on me until I left, at age 19, to study in Quebec. There I was struck by the smallness of everything. Small mountains, small trees, small opportunities, small ways of thinking. In California, at that time, the landscape was vast, opportunities unlimited, and one's imagination and aspirations never stifled. Years later I was living in England, where my children were born. I had the same perception of smallness there. When we returned to California it felt like climbing out of a box I had been stuffed inside of for several years.
At that point, however, California was no longer the same. The endless traffic jams, growing crime and pollution overrode my earlier sense of freedom. It didn't feel like a healthy place to raise my children, so we left for Seattle. Now it too is beset by endless traffic jams, crime and pollution. My current outpost on an island in the Puget Sound is, for now, a respite from all that.
What my early upbringing in California really represented for me was freedom - freedom to dream big, supported by a spacious landscape. Yes, California is an idea, one that doesn't die, even when living elsewhere. The mindset of a psychologically small place is that aspirations are pointless because the obstacles are too large. But for a Californian, even when removed, nothing is ever impossible.
I love how you write about California--the allure and the mess of it, the pride and concern for Brenda through the triathlon. And I loved the part especially where you wrote about how music meant the world to you, how it brought these wild places to you in ways you hadn't anticipated, how it brought color to a world that insisted on seeing in black and white.
You paint such a vivid picture of California, brilliant! Though I have never visited the USA, this piece had a love and understanding of California so genuinely woven in, it felt like a heartfelt postcard from a friend.
Living in New Zealand at the other corner of the Pacific Ocean — I can relate to the dazzling ocean, mountains and frequent earthquakes. Though sometimes growing up and living here I feel so far away from the rest of the world, I am reminded with the help of writing like yours that there are universal threads that run around the world.
One day I hope to visit California, but for now I’ll have to soak in the stories from people half a world away. Thank you! 😊
I enjoyed reading your essay on the idea of California. It stimulated my own recollections of growing up there. My parents and I came as refugees from Europe when I was just a year old, and we landed with a sponsoring family in a very rural part of Los Angeles, on a Mexican chicken farm. It took my family some years to work their way out of poverty, but for me growing up in southern California was profoundly influential on my perception of life. My parents could not have given me a better gift than bringing me to this land of huge blue skies, perpetual sunshine, gorgeous landscapes and the endless beaches of the Pacific Ocean.
I wasn't really aware of California's influence on me until I left, at age 19, to study in Quebec. There I was struck by the smallness of everything. Small mountains, small trees, small opportunities, small ways of thinking. In California, at that time, the landscape was vast, opportunities unlimited, and one's imagination and aspirations never stifled. Years later I was living in England, where my children were born. I had the same perception of smallness there. When we returned to California it felt like climbing out of a box I had been stuffed inside of for several years.
At that point, however, California was no longer the same. The endless traffic jams, growing crime and pollution overrode my earlier sense of freedom. It didn't feel like a healthy place to raise my children, so we left for Seattle. Now it too is beset by endless traffic jams, crime and pollution. My current outpost on an island in the Puget Sound is, for now, a respite from all that.
What my early upbringing in California really represented for me was freedom - freedom to dream big, supported by a spacious landscape. Yes, California is an idea, one that doesn't die, even when living elsewhere. The mindset of a psychologically small place is that aspirations are pointless because the obstacles are too large. But for a Californian, even when removed, nothing is ever impossible.
I love how you write about California--the allure and the mess of it, the pride and concern for Brenda through the triathlon. And I loved the part especially where you wrote about how music meant the world to you, how it brought these wild places to you in ways you hadn't anticipated, how it brought color to a world that insisted on seeing in black and white.
John, what a wonderful story! I enjoyed every word! You've done Brenda and California proud!
Alternating your two stories worked great. Congrats to Brenda for entering the race - that in itself is amazing.
You paint such a vivid picture of California, brilliant! Though I have never visited the USA, this piece had a love and understanding of California so genuinely woven in, it felt like a heartfelt postcard from a friend.
Living in New Zealand at the other corner of the Pacific Ocean — I can relate to the dazzling ocean, mountains and frequent earthquakes. Though sometimes growing up and living here I feel so far away from the rest of the world, I am reminded with the help of writing like yours that there are universal threads that run around the world.
One day I hope to visit California, but for now I’ll have to soak in the stories from people half a world away. Thank you! 😊
Thank you so much, Logan.