I was born in 1949 just after WWII. So, my father participated as a war photographer for YANK magazine in both the Pacific Theatre during WWII and the Korean War. His most notable achievement would probably be photographs he took of General MacArthur wading into Luzon, Philippines, at the shoreline. He worked for many years at the San Diego Union and Evening Tribune papers. After retiring his health began to deteriorate and in 1992 he committed suicide. Many years later I used a youthful photo of him to do the painting below.my painting of my father

Most likely you reader, whoever you are, will assume my mistakes occur in China, the foreign country where I am living for a spell. Unfortunately for me, my mistakes have been made in both my home country and here. When I fail to communicate here, it is because I don’t know the language. But in the United States I speak English quite well; in fact, my vocabulary is quite extensive. Yet, I still fail to communicate. Recently I have entertained emails with my healthcare provider like speeding bullets from rival camps, many of which seem to repeat the same information. You say, ah, I see, healthcare. Yes, America’s Achilles’ Heel. I failed to sign up for Medicare. My pension check has been reduced, as a consequence, to something like the meal leftovers you toss to the dog. I have been told to go to the Medicare website and……. But I am in China and I cannot access the Medicare website. “I did try to sign up for Medicare within the window of acceptable sign up times, but the computer locked up and…” and, well, I flew back to China. “I never received any notice about Medicare signup dates,” I plead. So, with my head in my hand, er, I mean “hat in my hand,” I go to China Post to send a form changing my healthcare plan to something lesser, more affordable until I am able to sign up for Medicare. A new “window” for signing up begins in January 2015. I dread going to China Post. My little translator isn’t always correct concerning the Mandarin colloquial as I found out from a cab driver who corrected my word for “airport.” I tell the postal clerk, I want to send this air mail. I show her my translator which now doesn’t have the audio because the battery is low and I bought the wrong battery size. I just keep digging myself in deeper. After much going back and forth between the woman (not the usual clerk as I soon realize to my horror), and some guys filling out forms to send large bags of whatever. I am told it is 6 yuan. That doesn’t seem correct. It is too little for international airmail. This clerk cannot give me a receipt with tracking info because she doesn’t know how to use the computer for this. I pray that somehow this gets to its destination. So, I leave to face my other “mistake” here in China. I failed to get a gas card. Now, my cooking gas is turned off. My landlord tried to have the gas company give me the appropriate card but well, it never happened. I am not trying to avoid paying. Really, I am not. I simply cannot deal with this mess. I am going to Lotto Mart to buy an electric induction cooker, or what I think is a fancy hot plate. After I open the box, I locate the directions which are in Mandarin. They say Einstein could not do basic arithmetic. Not to compare myself to Einstein but I can’t seem to do Life.

Here is my attempt at copying some famous paintings of Frida Kahlo from the web. There are many paintings but these are a couple of my favorites. The one with the column as her spine and the tears refers to a horrible bus accident that left her in terrible pain, leading to over 30 operations, for the rest of her life.self-portrait with vinesself-portrait about injurythe twin Fridas

It's easy to do, walk into a market, see the sale items stacked at the entrance and grab one. Perhaps you are thinking of the things you came in to buy and just absently grab something not on your list but which looks like a "good buy." The ubiquitous bargain! Be careful! If you don't read mandarin or only know a few characters such as myself, you can come home with a surprise in your bag. It looked innocent enough-- a large half gallon plastic bottle of clear liquid. Surely this was water. There was the character for water on it, along with some other characters. So when I decided to fill my glass with water which I didn't need to boil first, I reached for my new purchase, unscrewed the top and pulled the finger tab on the plastic sealer and stopped. It seemed a bit "over the top" (bad English pun) to have a plastic sealer instead of a paper one for a bottle of water. I hesitated and then sniffed. Whoa! This is definitely not water!. My first thought was that it was a bottle of Vodka. But I knew I hadn't paid much for it and liquor is very expensive. So, what then? If my first impression was that it smelled like alcohol, then it must be alcohol. Or rather rubbing alcohol. A common household disinfectant. I got out my handy dandy pocket translator and sure enough the characters in my translator for rubbing alcohol matched the bottle's label. Sooooo, very glad that I didn't take a drink. I probably would not have died but I could have been very sick. But probably I would have spit it out. Maybe. Anyway, I did not take that dangerous drink. I am left with one large container filled with rubbing alcohol which I don't really need, but maybe, glass cleaner? clean the door knobs? fixtures? stains on the wood floor? I'm looking around trying to see some uses for this....hmmmm.

While in the United States for jury duty, I went to two art shows that were in two different museums. Yes, as a US citizen I was required by law to serve on a jury panel for either a civil or criminal trial. I did not get picked and yet had to call in every day and show up at the court house for a week. However, I did spend some time having fun and catching up on my mail and a few doctor appointments, health checks and dental cleanings. Boring stuff. Anyway, the art shows were great fun. Frida Kahlo was a Mexican painter and wife of Diego Rivera, Mexican muralist. Her paintings have often been exhibited along with surrealist painters but she is in a class of her own. Her paintings are highly emotional and personal. Her life was marked by much personal tragedy, a horrible bus accident, over 30 operations, an amputation and her paintings reflect her pain. This exhibit, however, was made up of family photos without any of her paintings. Interesting but disappointing to those who have not seen any of her paintings. Fortunately I saw many of her paintings in Mexico City sometime in the 70s. The other exhibit comprised paintings of a living painter, Sherrie Wolf. She has repainted some famous baroque paintings and painted in various still life scenes of her own. They were all beautifully done in the style of trompe l'oeil which is so realistic you want to reach out and peel that orange in the painting.brochure for Frida Kahlo showbrochure for Sherrie Wolf showdetail of painting by Wolf

One of my past blogs was about the art show this past April in Shenyang. I am reminded of one of the works I saw:The placard beside the artwork, “Ties That Bind” (2013) by Eva Preston and Joanna Fulginiti reads: “Physical, mental and emotional ties bind a woman to her trafficker and to commercial sexual exploitation.” The physical ropes or plastic fasteners or implements of restraint that inhibit her body from movement and from escape are not always necessary to insure a prisoner’s cooperation. Fear will do. A woman or a girl may face several men who have the countenance of animals, savage beasts bent on tearing her body limb from limb and discarding when they are finished with her. Fear is physical and can make any move however slight impossible. Fear freezes. Fear is both mental and physical. And fear can continue after/if she is freed. “How can she escape when she is bound by so many?” For a girl who tries to imagine her future, a husband, a family, a life, being captured by armed men and sold into sexual slavery is a kind of living death. What torture awaits her? She might wish she’d never been born.“When a society ignores the interconnectedness, unspeakable acts, that have been contained in corners, overflow into our homes.” The final question the artwork asks is directed to all of us. “Do you pull her ties tighter or embrace her beauty and strength?” The Girls are kidnapped in Nigeria by Boko Haram. But we know that girls worldwide are kidnapped every year, 13% of 12.3 million people or over 1 million and a half girls according to the UN. No doubt those are conservative estimates. Human Trafficking is a $32 billion annual income industry. Traffickers can get $400,000 per victim.

I've been studying, on my own, how to draw the human face and have several Chinese drawing books. I've copied almost every face in those books. So now, I set myself the task of looking at and drawing from a photograph not in the books. I started with Virginia Woolf, whose novels I have been struggling to read. Incidentally, Amazon.com has a bilingual edition Chinese/English of Mrs. Dalloway, one of her best known novels. I have a great respect for her and she has such a compelling face. When I began to put pencil to paper, however, I ran into trouble. Looking at her, I thought I would have no trouble. Paper after paper was tossed. Many drawings have been done of Virginia Woolf through the years. Some look like her and some don’t. She has a haunting look. I try again with a fresh piece of paper. One of the Chinese books suggests putting dots where features are to map the face. I start doing that. The eyes look so much like those in Pre-Raphaelite paintings. No doubt the resemblance is that of her mother Julia Jackson who modeled for the Pre-Raphaelite painters. I dismiss the full face and go for the profile. Well, there is less of a face here; so it must be easier. I start with the nose. She has such a long nose. Oops, not that long. It seems like a sharp nose. I want to leave it and go to a man’s face where the nostrils are larger and less complicated. The delicate features on a woman's face are difficult. My lines must be shorter and fewer. I keep overdrawing. Too much. I erase. Too little. The contours of the face only seem to come forward with fewer strokes. I frequently show my drawing to a mirror to get the reversed image. I know immediately that I’ve made a mistake. The eyes are too far apart or too high up; or the face is simply not following the shape of the skull. Hopefully for my next blog I will have finished my drawing of Virginia Woolf. I will share it whether successful or not.

My permanent home in the US is in Long Beach, California. I belong to the Long Beach - Qingdao Sister City Association. On April 25 a delegation from Long Beach came to Qingdao to attend the opening ceremony of the 2014 International Horticulture Expo. I was fortunate to be included as a guest to this celebration. Wow, what can I say. It was fabulous. After the festivities we toured the Expo site and visited the Long Beach exhibition which the LBQA sponsored. All of China's provinces had beautiful exhibitions there as well as international exhibits. And there were also large buildings akin to science museums that had videos and interactive displays that explained the scientific and historical ecological issues and environment concerns. There is a web site that explains the Expo, pricing and available buses. A ticket can be purchased for 120 yuan until April 30 and after that the price goes up to 160 yuan. I urged everyone to attend this Expo. Don't think that it is just lovely flowers. There is much more to it than that and the cable car ride is quite fun.