‘The memory is a living thing – it too is in transit. But during the moment, all that is remembered joins and lives – the old and the young, the past and the present, the living and the dead.’ – Eudora Welty – One Writer’s Beginnings
(This was written a few weeks ago ‘between painting sessions.’ Short internet checks have kept my communication skills hobbled, but it seems timely today to ignore the emails, the news updates (I am anxious to check – but will wait to post this.) I often realized my good fortune to have had so much practice with self-imposed isolation. This present marathon of isolation has barely affected my moods – as long as there are paints and brushes and pencils and books to occupy my time, I am happy. (I do miss my connection with nature.)
Even when recovering from the dengue-chikungunya co-infection in 2015, I realized that earlier ‘lessons’ had prepped me for enduring unexpected challenges. My first introduction to dengue happened in Costa Rica, about the time of the story that follows; I realize now – that the USA is also suffering from a co-infection… Having one virus is enough – add another serious challenge, and the host faces a serious fight back to wellness. The Covid 19 Pandemic presented enough challenges of its own, yet the ‘newest’ one has been simmering and smoldering. I am not surprised that it ignited into a second heart-wrenching crisis. The scenes from yesterday’s cyber check made me cry, and with a sense of dread I will watch from afar as the racial tensions play out one day (and night) at a time.
This is titled, “The Invisible Fence” but has been incubating in my heart under the working title, ‘Whatever Happened to Dianne Wright?’ It’s another long epistle, so you’re warned.

Nandayure/Guanacaste/ COSTA RICA
The Invisible Fence
Twenty years ago I plunged into a cultural immersion – or perhaps baptism – near a tiny coastal pueblito in Costa Rica. With a Spanish vocabulary of a dozen or so words, I often used my drawing skills to convey my requests. Few people spoke English, and we hobbled along – even though the locals accepted and embraced me into their culture. They still laugh when reminiscing and state, “Lisa, do you remember when you said that you were a man?”

After a week of studying petroglyphs, I painted this ‘headphone holder’ coconut head and was surprised how it all but painted itself!
Dear sweet Denise, who presided over the small restaurant, had taught me how to say I was hungry the week before, when – out of low-blood-sugar fatigue – I had burst into tears of frustration. She had been talking at record words per minute in Spanish, and I feared I was about to faint if I did not eat soon! After I finished the soup and main course, my normal behavior replaced the jittery one, and Denise sat with me and patiently helped me to say ‘hungry’ in Spanish. Then she resumed in her record words-per-minute conversation, which I grasped maybe 3 percent – but received 100 percent of her kindness.
The next week I was bursting with enthusiasm to practice my one new word when I returned to the publito. Stepping into the bar/restaurant area, I stated quite loudly, “Yo. Hombre!”
The men at the bar almost spit their beer across the room, and they laughed and laughed.
Yes, the words, ‘hombre’ and ‘hambre’ now remain distinctively clear, and I am grateful that I could laugh with them and not be insulted – or cry! Another friend reminded me to pronounce the “L” in ‘disculpe’ (excuse me) so it wasn’t mistaken for ‘escupir’ (to spit) — the lessons are endless!
After a long day of hard manual labor, I asked a friend who understood a lot of English – but spoke little, “Would I say ‘trabajO’ or ‘trabajA‘ – since I am a woman?”
“Lisa.” he stated very gently, “Work is work.”
Of course I laughed.
‘Expats’ owned properties dotted along the same area, although one person pointed out that I was the only one with enough ‘courage’ (he used a word a bit stronger!) to stay during the rainy season. A creative person never runs out of projects, and when the rainy season arrived, I could switch gears and reach for a book – one of many which were reserved for ‘rainy days only.’ The reading marathons kept me quite happy, as I usually had a dozen or more new titles I was itching to read – but waiting for rainy-day opportunities.

Walden of the Tropics –
Two of those books were volumes of collected interviews- Conversations with Eudora Welty, and one of those I recently read again. (The other is lost. 😦 Boo!)
“…Writing about anything teaches you – it teaches you the recognition of things in your life that you remember, but you might not have recognized their portent. It’s like you have an electric shock – and you can say that’s when I recognized so-and-o. Writing is a way to come to terms with whatever you’ve done or not done – what your life has meant to you – good or bad. One thing lades to another subjectively, and you could probably go on forever.” Eudora Welty – More Conversations with Eudora Welty – from interview w/Sally Wolff/1988 for Southern Review.
Endless gardening options provided total immersion in the outdoors, and the Mississippi Tomboy mastered learning Howler Monkey language much quicker than Spanish! The monkeys seemed curious about my behavior, and they often shadowed my own movements. At night they often slept in the canopy over the roof, then announced the arrival of the new day! We often swapped dawn conversations when the monkeys,louder than usual, seemed to beg, ‘Come outside and talk to us!’ –
I would open the door, smile up as they peered down like obedient pets waiting on their master’s approval, and then I’d say, “Good Morning. Buenos Dias. Hmmmp-hmmmp-hmmmp” – the latter in the guttural syntax of monkey talk. I still miss those monkeys!

Quite at ease, this one often loitered very near where I worked.
One day when I searched the scrap-lumber pile for a section of wood, an iguana darted away and startled me.
“You think I scared you? You scared me too!” I shouted into the wilder areas beyond the pile. And then I laughed. I had not spoken a word to a soul in days.
I thought, “Lisa. Go to town. You need to interact with society.”

(from z archives) 30 inches of rain in three weeks – Costa Rica
I missed hearing the English language, and during weeks of extra-heavy rainfall, I missed silly things that I normally didn’t want. Once while waiting on the rains to stop so I could walk home (over a suspension bridge and down a muddy road) I joined the locals watching a soccer playoff on television. A commercial for a Whopper (or Big Mac?) flashed on the screen, and I was suddenly wistful for a soft warm hamburger bun and a cola on crushed ice — and I did not even like those too-big Whoppers!

Deep or Shallow? (This One Caught Me!)
I was curious about the locals, their lives, yet the language barrier reminded me of an invisible fence. One Sunday I walked to town to watch a local soccer game. The locals ‘knew’ me, and I knew most of their faces – the families and where they lived. They, of course, knew who I was – and I suspected that they knew if I coughed or cried, what food I ordered and how many shoes I owned. I realized, with clarity, that I was – to them – who Dianne Wright had been to me.
Dianne Wright had been the lone black student to integrate my 6th-grade class in a long-ago Mississippi Delta town, population of about 300 people. We silently accepted her presence, yet ‘we’ (I speak for myself and assume twas true of the others) did not have the social skills to befriend her. Beyond an invisible fence, she sat alone in the cafeteria, and I don’t recall her presence at recess. I so well remember one book report she gave, and her beaming smile branded onto my memory. Paired with sparkling eyes, hers was a smile of hoped-for confidence, one to state that she could do this in front of all of us – and she did. Perhaps more sensitive classmates had befriended her, yet I fear that we failed in basic universal kindness.
At that soccer game a lifetime later, I realized that I too was the implant.
The locals accepted me, yet there was a distinct isolation. I was the ‘different’ one. I recalled that long-ago world – when a ‘different’ one attended our classes – and wondered, “Whatever happened to Dianne Wright?” I also realized that one day I would move on, and the locals might one day ask, “Whatever happened to Lisa?”
They were much nicer to me than I was to Dianne Wright. It would be nice to one day speak to her in person – and apologize for my lack of skills in a time that was awkward for all – yet surely more difficult for her. If she is still alive and healthy, perhaps she is reflecting now – and realizing how that year of ‘the invisible fence’ was beneficial to her own growth.
During those first few years in Costa Rica, I learned to treasure my long periods of isolation. I realized that one can stay busy with society and have what seems a full life – yet with little time for inward reflection. I had never cared for ‘junk television’ – which seemed to numb some viewers into hours and hours of distraction- when nature or books or even people (!) offered more enriching results. I did not miss television (or telephones) but books were important. After a few years I pondered that all people should be required to spend several months alone – with little interaction with the outside world – to find out what one is made of! It’s easy to use society as a crutch, and it can be a bit overwhelming to depend on one’s own company. There is a balance, and presently we are all looking inward – and outward – during challenging CoVid times.
I am so grateful for my earlier experiences, especially now – as this area of Ecuador rolls into another ’30-day period’ of isolation. I continue to divide my time between reading and art, and I remain happy and content. I must confess, however, that I am weary of wearing the mask. So what have I been doing? My drawing ink pens went dry, and I am very low on good paper. On ‘card/index’ paper sized 11 x 17, almost-finished study of the Masked Water Tyrant and water hyacinths…

Watercolor y acrylic – Painted on 11 x 17″ index ‘stock’ – which presents its own challenges!
The New York Times sends a daily email news summary, which is quite informative without having to follow any links. The ‘Weekend Briefing’ remained open in the email queue, and after reading #4 about the murder of Ahmaud Arbery*, I paused – collected my thoughts regarding racism – and how today’s times seem to amplify this ongoing conflict. *(Remember this was written weeks ago)
The Times asked, “Why did arrests take months?”
The photo shows a ‘Happpy 26th Birthday’ photo, and I join those who reflect on the tragic loss. Being raised in Mississippi, I agree that it is way past time to remove the invisible barriers that divide our communities, our countries and the world.
Our species might have evolved in technology, but I fear that our ‘report card’ would show that we are quite lacking in empathy and love for our fellow man. I have witnessed a lot, have heard personal stories that left me numb and saddened, and I’ve read first-person stories published long ago. We cannot and should not ‘wipe it all away’ as if it did not happen, but we have to find a way for those wounds to heal – and to move forward.
I also ponder the people protesting and demanding their personal rights/freedom and their anger about simple ‘rules’ like wearing a simple mask. They seem to be illustrating they are thinking of themselves and not of their fellow man. I think that sometimes these people are just plain angry at the world in general, and this gives them a reason to go outward with that anger. (Feedback is welcome here, as I’m watching from afar.)
In his post, Wise Words, Hugh Curtler prefaced, “…My son sent it to me the other day and said, simply, “it was written by a co-worker.” It strikes me as particularly important given the fact that we are all feeling fed-up with the coronavirus and all that it entails. We simply cannot wait until things go “back to normal” — refusing to admit to ourselves that there may be no return to normal and that the “new normal” will be like nothing we have ever experienced.” Please take time to read this – and ponder the stats.
Some days the intense concentration of painting leaves me quite exhausted, and – like long ago in the rainy season – I reach for a book and enjoy a reading marathon. Presently I’m reading “More Conversations with Eudora Welty” (c. 1996 -University Press of Mississippi)
“But how much better, in any case, to wonder than not to wonder, to dance with astonishment and go spinning in praise, than not to know enough to dance or praise at all; to be blessed with more imagination than you might know at the given moment what to do with than to be cursed with too little to give you — and other people — any trouble.”
― Eudora Welty
It is my hope that these horrific times will inspire people to reach down and find the best of themselves – and go outward in positive ways. The negative choices, as the news reports showcase, are not the best side of human nature.
A lovely story about “Miss Welty” is here:
THE QUIET GREATNESS OF EUDORA WELTY by Danny Heitman
(The header-image option is missing today- I suspect that in June more things will change when ‘Classic’ option is retired. The numbers are worse for the city of Portoviejo, which remains in the ‘red’ stage. Weekends remain blissful, however, with zero autos on the streets and few people. Time for me to eat my chicken soup and get home by 2! Thank you as always – Love, Lisa)
Li…sa!
Funny how things come about. I’ve been cleaning out stuff and came across a folder from December 2001 from Bejuco. I have just finished reading it all then opened this email. I appreciate your insight and am glad that you are doing well, and that your talent continues to impress. I look forward to maybe us visiting again. Take care in these uncertain times.
Fletcher
This is so beautiful, Lisa, so beautiful. I know Eudora would be proud. Since you wrote this, there has been so much more of the same. And we live between where the cop murdered Raymond Floyd and where the cop lived, I wish we had an invisible fence or better yet a high stone fence.
Stay Safe.
The isolation feels reversed for me, Lisa, because it has been minimal here… though while it was happening it felt endless. Maybe we will go into reversal as the country opens its doors again. It’s too early to tell. But there is no doubt that we have distress and injustice throughout this world we have made. Stay safe, Lisa. You have weathered so many storms, and still make your world beautiful 🙂 🙂
I was thinking about you today and then found you in my reader. Serendipity is kind, as are your written words. In my guided meditation today, this quote ended the session. “the day you stop racing, is the day you win the race.” Bob Marley. Take care, my dear friend and be well. We live in extraordinary times, but that is the overarching narrative of humanity. We may feel uncertainty, but there is still love, hope, joy because we are connected by friendships that defy time, space, location.
Reblogged this on Jude's Threshold and commented:
A lovely journal as usual with intriguing photos and artwork!
Such an interesting life you have had Lisa and you are so brave to take on living in a community not being able to communicate. I admire how you have filled your time with beautiful art and the immersions of reading. Parts of the world are going crazy and it is hard to imagine how it will end. Stay safe in your “bubble” of nature
I do remember similar feelings as I integrated into Pueblo Nuevo myself…and not just with the Costaricans…but the ex-pats too…and thank you for being one of the ones to be willing to give me a chance….perhaps you unwittingly gave me a chance because of your past experiences…I do not know…but I am grateful. …sending love across the miles…
So good to hear from you, Lisa, and ready your thoughtful comments. We haven’t really had any problems from the virus. After moving, we had plenty to do around our new rental house (and still have things we can do.) My husband already worked from home and I’m fairly content to be at home (since there are e-books to be had from the closed libraries.) He takes his bike rides and I take my walks. When I shop for groceries, I wear a mask our daughter made. I get my parents’ groceries so that they don’t have to go out any more than necessary, being at the far end of the at-risk age (91 and 90) whereas I/we are at the opposite end. I don’t wear a mask when walking because I’m not close to anyone else and I think people who complain about it or refuse to wear one are being selfish. I call it a “first world problem”
The recent happenings are what in American football might be called “piling on.” Another terrible thing just when we felt like things were getting slightly better. I have a very few thoughts about it on my blog today, as it was weighing at me.
I’m happy to read that you’re doing well. Please keep doing well and know we miss you when you’re not here.
janet
as usual dear friend, I loved your post. You have been on our minds, especially the last 2 weeks. We’re going to send you an email, and hopefully you’ll be able to have enough internet time to be able to read it. We’re following the mandates, still red in Sucre, and it doesn’t bother me . It keeps our small villages safe. I too don’t mind not being able to go out and about, John does all the errands for the house and me, since I’m considered high risk. But no worries and no fears here. .And I don’t mind not being out with those nasty little buggers. We had a small outbreak of dengue , but from what we heard, it has calmed down here. I haven’t been painting, not sure why…but probably because my head is too full of stuff. 🙂 Love you, miss you, and a big hug.. Mary y John
I love your update, and forgive me for taking so long to reply. The laptop battery is now reaching ‘distress’ levels and goes own really fast. One of these days we’re going to move to better times an things like going for a battery will be easier!
Last week I saw SuperPaco door about 1/3 up.. it was my first trip to Supermaxi shopping since the pandemic started. Brushes! I can ask for brushes – and printer ink. I walked to the window and knocked. They made the motion to phone for what I needed and they’d have the package waiting.
How can one ‘phone’ for just the right paintbrush in a country that rarely makes a decent brush? I just smiled, thanked them and walked back to the truck and drove home!
Word is that dengue numbers are up.. stay diligent! Love, Lisa
So lovely to disappear into your world for while Lisa. What courage you had moving to that pueblito all those years ago. And how useful it has proven.
Alison
It’s always a joy to dive into your world as well… I feel very blessed to have ‘shadowed’ you over so many years, and you remain a constant an encouraging beacon!
❤ xo
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So, so incredibly beautiful. It brought tears to my eyes, Lisa. We live in strange times. Ron and I are hunkered down in the states, waiting to take a cross country trip to Yosemite to see our son and his wife. We had international travel planned for the remainder of 2020, but we are content to wait until next year.
I have learned to appreciate the small “awe” moments throughout our lives in isolation first with a Civic Rebellion in Nicaragua that forced us to return to the states. Second with Ron’s diagnosis of cancer, which forced us to change old habits and look our mortality in the face, and now with the Corona virus. Reflections are good, contentment is better, and life in temporary isolation is priceless if you have “awe” moments at least once a day. Take care mi amiga. Loved hearing from you.
Of course you’re on my mind often, as is Ron. Who knows when international travel is an option for people with higher-than-normal risks. All three of us fall into that – oh and I see that Central America and Brazil and Ecuador are all higher numbers of dengue righ tnow.. CR five times, according to a health/infectious disease site, and Ecuador three times higher than last year at this time… Ah, being in nature helps, and being surrounded by healthy images, comforting nature — and we get thru it one day at a time.
Love,
Lisa
Hombre/hombre. Just glad I didn’t have a mouth full of something when I read that! I’d have spit across the room also.
oh, to laugh, that is the secret for shedding stress!
I love the image of the monkey draped over the branch, observing what this strange “big monkey” is doing down there.
I wonder how things are where you live. This virus has bloomed, raged, calmed, and rebloomed differently in different locations. I’m lucky in that where I live, there is plenty of room to get out and at least walk without coming in close contact with others. That said, one needs to walk thoughtfully. If I head for the popular walking paths, trails and parks, there are simply too many people out and often w/o any regard for safety. Our governor has re-opened much of the state and economy. As always, there are different approaches to the pandemic. On one side you have immunocompromised individuals or the panicky set who don’t want to venture forth at all. And on the other side, you have the “I’m stronger than the virus” types who see no point in physical distance or wearing a mask.
I fall somewhere in the middle. I would never forgive myself if I learned that I had inadvertently shed the virus to someone else. But I am not at all germaphobic. As a matter of fact, I lament the vast amounts of water used in constant washing of hands, objects, and surfaces, to say nothing of the damage done by overusing anti-bacterials and by over-wrapping everything in layers of plastic film. Obviously, I’m not the sort to be careful in my habits. But I do try to be respectful of distance and I use a mask when in contact with others.
And yes, I can’t imagine having to wear a mask for an 8, 10 or 12-hour work shift. Ugh. I would expect your artistic flair to end up on masks. I think they will become the hot accessory of the coming year(s).
Take care of yourself.
Linda
With my own health issues and history, I know that I would be tempting the Fates to be flippant about dodging or not dodging the virus. I’ve read that dengue is making its rounds again – three times the amt of cases from last year… my task will be to find if it’s the same strain as in2015 or the one from 2000 in Costa Rica or if it’s one of the two I’ve not experienced. A third round would be quite dangerous.
Still, it’s important to remain kind to all I see and meet, to support those who are less privileged and to especially remember to illustrate kindness to all.
I thought about you when I read about changes to the postal service. If you’ve written about that I missed it, but goodness I wish that man would stop negating things and try to fix the obvious instead of rolling back or rearranging….
there’s a volcano puffing in the andes, and the ask has filtered to many areas… those masks are going to be helpful to thousands righ tnow! Speaking of, I’d better check and see what the volcano is doing today….
Oh my yes. That man. He seems evil personified as far as I’m concerned. But I can’t change what is, I can only hope to change what is to come. egad. And a volcano in the offing? In Idaho during 2020 we’ve experienced a 6.8 earthquake, a plague, and crickets are coming. Couldn’t be more biblical, could it? I wish you good health and a work around for any pending volcanoes or tsunnamis.
News just now shows that that man did not have a big turnout.. One would think that he’d realize that he’s turning many away w/his attitude – yet he’s too focused on himself. I remain baffled how the virus has not attacked him yet.
Me too! And his whole danged family. It must be that Hydorxychloroquine.
How well I remember walking the miles to a bush village in Liberia; being welcomed and fed, and the siting around the fire at night. As the cup of traditional palm wine was being passed, I felt the slightest stirring behind me. It was the children, creeping out to see what none ever had seen: a white woman. I remember, too, the shock of learning that concepts of privacy differ from culture to culture. Waking to the sight of a gaggle of young boys looking in the window wasn’t one I expected.
Most of all, I remember standing in the middle of a Monrodia road, wondering if the teenaged soldier who had demanded my passport would stop clutching his gun long enough to give it back, and I remember being the one who ended up preparing the body of a Liberian woman for burial. She was of a different tribe than the hospital staff, and none would touch her.
Violence, fear, puzzlement, and curiosity are human realities. They’re not confined to white or black; or to brown, yellow, or red for that matter. Legislation never will solve the problems; only changes in the human heart can do that. The good news is, those heart-changes are possible — no matter how far removed we are from the corridors of power.
You painted such a lovely living story here, and of course I can picture those inquisitive children peering at you and wistful to touch you – confirm you were real…
To prepare a body for burial? Oh my, I suppose we do what we must do and reach down and find the balance to move forward with as much grace as possible.. We learn so much from experiences like that.
I remember the CPR given that did not help.. yet we tried… and I remember being in a deep ditch of cold water holding an accident victim while waiting on an ambulance – which took half an hour but it seemed like hours.. I kept thinking, ‘Please don’t die, please don’t die..” But not being there holding her head above water, how could that be an option?
Half a lifetime later her father and I met briefly, and he thanked me. I’d forgotten all about it, and then it came back as if it were last night.
Changes in the human heart — that’s so true – another lovely quote from our dear Linda….
Lisa my friend, your eloquence inspires, and your last paragraph summed it up well. Let’s hope that the best is brought out in enough people to balance the difficulties. I hope you stay healthy, too!
Watching from afar has been an interesting journey. It’s as if random strikes of lightning hit and ignite the smoldering embers across the country. Because of my own roots, I am not surprised at the uprising, and I am encouraged that so many ‘whites’ have joined/supported these protests. —- but to be ‘out there’ in the protests in these dangerous and infectious times? It’s a huge worry.
Down here most people remain calm and compliant — no one wants to be infected! We’ve had practice w/dengue and chikungunya and then the earthquake. Enough suffering.
Two people that I know are presently in the hospital w/Covid,but I’ve not seen them in over a year.. They are older, and quiet/kind — hopefully they’ll pull through it.
I have surely four pages of the browser open to your posts. They have all given the serene comfort that you project via your posts. I really loved the Maidenhair Fern photos – but any time you take us on a walk – and we peer skyward at those amazing trees or inspect details of the bark or twisting trunks — or go to the shore and gaze at the atmospheric effects… they are all lovely! Thanks also for posting them in complete form so that I can read via email notification at home then visit in person via your webpage when time permits!