Silk Images

This limited edition, silk twill piece, is from a 

photograph of a story fountain taken in Aachen 

Germany. Stone, child-like characters surround 

this soothing pool of water. If you look closely,

you can almost see them through the swirling

water. Aachen is also the repository of 

Charlemagne's remains and the scene of 

German coronations. WWII battlefields still 

contain foxholes and bullet shells. You can 

retrace the steps of soldiers who fought the 

Battle of Hürtgen Forest and marvel at the 

ability to move men and materiels on the 

winding and narrow pathways.

 My first Home Ec class was in the 7th grade; this class was required for all girls. I can still see the layout of the room and my spot at my assigned sewing machine. The teacher handed me the Simplicity pattern for a box pleat full skirt. Nothing about the pattern made sense – there were lines and numbered instructions on the tissue thin paper. I did manage to pin and cut out the pattern on a stiff heavy cotton the color of denim. However, I got a poor grade because although the pleats were perfect, my hem was not. Not too long after that, my dad was killed in Vietnam, nothing about that made sense either.

I remember the first time I saw the ocean. I was 10; we drove over from  Fayetteville NC to Kure Beach. The 2-hour drive took forever! My mom had  grown up going to the Jersey Shore every summer and was insistent that  we see and play in salt water. The Atlantic Ocean was magnificent. I  remember wearing my very first 2-piece bathing suit with a white swim  cap. We had heavy canvas floats and my mom taught us how to use them to  ride the surf as it rolled ashore. We were fearless, after all we had  learned to swim as soon as we could walk. I still feel a sense of  anticipation as I push through the sea grasses for my first glimpse of  the sea.

I’ll never forget the very first image I ever printed – a black and white frame full of English Ivy from a friend's back yard. I didn't know it at the time, but photography would become the window through which I could examine my relationship with my father and the country, Vietnam, where he had been killed. It wasn't until 47 years after his death in the war that I first visited Vietnam. Of all the photographs I took there, the ones I feel closest to are images from deep within the Ho Chi Minh Trail. I'm not sure what parallels can be drawn from a Houston garden and a logistics route, but both were prized by the people who lived there. 

We found variations of this memorial in many areas of Vietnam; this particular one was in Hanoi. The carved words that accompany each statue translate to “imprisoned gives birth to the fatherland”. Yes, they were Communist heroes, but doesn’t each country deserve her heroes? I can’t help but think of all the beautiful young men and women, imprisoned each in their own way, who give their lives for their country.

In a land far away, in a time long ago, Vietnam was deluged by rain that  just wouldn’t stop. Lands and homes were flooded until a graceful  goddess descended from the sky. Upon her head was an enormous hat made  of large leaves stitched together by bamboo sticks. This large hat was  able to guard the people against the rain; the goddess dispelled the  clouds and rain, allowing the people to return back to a normal life.  The conical hat or Non La has evolved over the years, and has identified  and protected generations of Vietnamese. Unfortunately, it did not  protect against invaders.

This doll has seen better days. I’m glad I was able to photograph her  before she became too tattered. Currently all that remains is the áo dài,  the Vietnamese traditional dress worn by men and women. It consists of  two parts: a long upper dress with a deep slit on both sides and a plain  baggy pant. My doll brought to me by my dad from his 1957 tour in  Vietnam wears the fitted version updated by Saigon tailors in the 1950s.  Her dress has the high stand-up collar complete with a brass necklace.  The pattern details a placid scene unaware of the conflict yet to come.