This was decidedly cool: Last Saturday, we went with G  — him driving, us anxiously front- and back-seat supervising – to a skate boarding competition in the Palisades Park. He was too late to register, to my relief,  but we perched on the rock wall that lines the road, our feet on the bales of hay placed to spare any kids who went flying, our heads cooled by the trees and the breeze from the river below, and watched as the skaters swooped by at stomach-curdling speeds.

All had to wear helmets and knee and elbow protectors, and some – my favorites – were in head-to-toe leathers, but all had this marvelous air of utterly carefree confidence.  And they were so nice, even the ones with piercings and mohawks – open and friendly, eager to share information with G about boards and techniques, and nice to us ancients as well.

I know now for sure I will never ever do what they did, but for one glorious morning I was close enough to vicariously share their  freedom. And it makes me very, very happy that G, who from babyhood was so uncertain of his balance, has forged a bridge over his fear, and can glide and swoop and dip — and, most important, fall without any great distress.

A few people have asked about the pictures with these posts. They are all mine – collages done in Barbara Minch’s art class, and photos fueled by my endless obsession with trees, and that great line “Sunlight through tree leaves saves lives.”  It’s from a monograph I was shown in college, and I remember the poet’s name as something like John Cage… but I haven’t been able to confirm that. If anyone recognizes it, please let me know.  I’d love to thank him for it. Meanwhile, it’s so much fun being able to share my pictures instead of just clogging up computer space!

Which brings up something else incredibly cool: the way the Internet makes it possible to find out more about those distant demigods of culture who give one great delight, and sometimes to thank them.  I suppose it was always possible to do research in a library, and to write a note to a publishing company and hope they would pass it on. But that takes stick-to-itiveness, and given time to reconsider, I’d get embarrassed about being a gushy fan. The spontaneity of email spares me those second thoughts.  These days when I finish a really wonderful book and am left with that feeling of bereftness, wanting more, I head for my computer. You can usually find articles offering background or updates, and sometimes there’s a website and contact info.  I’ve had a couple of very nice responses and that’s exciting, but mainly I just want to get out that “Thank you!”

P.S. Talking of finding out more about great creators, we had the pleasure of hearing in person (at Words Bookstore in Maplewood) from Julie Burstein, who has brought out a book about the artists and writers and musicians she got to know as the producer of the PRI radio program Studio 360 with Kurt Andersen. It’s called Spark: how creativity works, and it’s a feast to read.