Childhood-Story:
1949-50 two, six week summers at Silver Pines Camp, 30 miles east of Redding
First summer I don't pay much attention to the Silver Belt Buckle competition.
We collect points for every kind of 'sporting' event over the summer.
We fish, swim, shoot, horse, clean, and big-points! = find an Indian Arrowhead.
Second summer,
I know I can win it if I find an arrowhead in the final days - our totals are posted.
There's a small small lake half a mile over the hill. I get permission to hike over.
Lost Lake is 100 yards long rock-stone shore the length - other side, banks.
I .hands-n-knees. back-n-forth . for three hot-dry hours.
This feeling of "I'm-gonna-find-it" has been with me since '38. I know it well.
Just have to keep on Truckin'.
Hour number four I find my no-doubt Indian Arrowhead.
Two and a half inches, brown-gray, shallow-notched-sculpted to it's point.
Two times I lie face down and cry out loud at my camp:
..Alone in the woods, stick-leader-fly-cool-mossy-creekside. my first fish.
..Alone in the rocks and stones with the Arrowhead.

Walked and hunted for three hours today
Not one single picture taken
This has happened before
Like two days ago
It's always exercise

I hear:
... She's ballin' him right now ...

I hear:
... four years ago I woulda gone back and burned the house down.
Not anymore.

APPROPRIATION- a Buddy !
I know people who Wikipedia:
appropriation

I hear:
Please don't touch. He is our friend.

Every time I go out to photograph
I tell myself, .I ought to be able to find possible pictures in any and every 'environment' I pass through, damn it !
What's wrong, Billy Boy ?!
Nothin’.
I just can't will myself to find a picture.
Something grabs me - I grab it !

I hear:
... if you act right now ...

I hear:
... I love people who do that ...

It occurs to me that you all may have small knowledge of my relationship with my brother since '40.

In the presence of his health situation, and given our familial relationships, this may interest you.

There was some sibling stuff, we fought a bit. 

I knew he was more likable.  The parents knew it - ok.

As kids we rarely played together - didn't share friends or interests.  Not much in common.

I played mostly with older kids.  We didn't hang out at schools.  He went to a different jr hi.

Went to summer day camps alone - went 6 weeks to Silver Pines at 11 and 12 years old. 

Went away to Midland for 10th and 11th grades - went into the army after 1 yr at PCC.
I always had jobs - spent small time at home.

Went to Berkeley and Cal in '61.  We had USPS and phones - no social media.  

We didn't appear to care much what each other did over all the years.  I believe we didn't.

One doesn't know what effects 'changes' will present.  

When the father died it meant nothing - dead to me since '38. 

When mom went down it was natural to help my sister deal in my small ways - only 7 weeks.

Mom was also very entertaining as she went.  It was a quiet emotional experience for me.

My life with mom had used up the sub & noisy stuff over the years.  

We were never hugs-close.  Cerebral sharing we did ok.

Now, I don't well understand his diagnosis and prognosis. I do have the general picture.

He trusts you - his daughter and son - to navigate for him.  

I assume he is way more upset and fearful than he presents.

If I can get thru timing and phone issues I call him once a week. 

Talking to him is what you know it to be.

I have always hoped the best for him.

I am not you.  Sincerely Bill.   04/01/14

Childhood-Story:
1938-1955 Play-Sports-Buddies
Save my life

Robbe-Grillet, Duras, Beckett,
"Women & Fiction" Anthology,Boll, Pancake, Michaels, Banks, Et Al !
Love 'em - bet I couldn't pass an exam
Loved my Lit class at Cal - flunked it
It's in head somewhere

Childhood-Story:
1943 WWII Time
I go to neighborhood mail boxes and collect mail for two weeks.
People start asking around about missing mail.
In my secret bushes-hideout I have letters from Sons in the War.
I tell them, "I think I found your letters".
It takes me 'til 1945 to say, "Sorry" to the soldier next door.

I hear:
... that's the problem ... tooth pulled ... drank last night ...
had a couple beers this morning ... I'm not! ...

I photograph the way I always have
Walk .Look ...
Walk .Look . ..Release
Walk .Look.. . Release
Walk .Look
Release is good

Childhood-Story:
1942 Vivid
Building-digging a trench fort in our backyard.
I hit brother-Frank in the head with the hoe - 2" gash, bloody.
He's recovering in his crib after doctoring.
I tell myself, 'This is no accident'.

Nancy Nick Esther Bill Monet Moses '07

The BILLDANE.COM:
Nick and I start building this Website in April '07.  
At the point I want to control some ingredients
I poked around "Blogger", the builder site,
and slowly I'm building PET MONSTER and UNITE!
and THE PHOTO ALBUM.

I hear:
... you know, this tastes just like candy.

Childhood-Story:
1967 my home & painting studio on Mt Diablo
I'm 2nd year teaching at Berkeley High
Three of us do a 6 session "District Seminar" with Herb Kohl and Allan Kaprow
Planning 'new-life' for the Schools
They fire me for staging lunchtime "Happenings" in the courtyard
The Union! gets my job back
Kaprow in my studio
" ... Bill, best painting I've seen out here in the west. ..."
Loved That Seminar !