I heard Kiyoko tell people several times that I took the best pictures of her.
This one, taken at Asilomar, she said was her favorite.
Now I will tell you my photographer's secret: I liked to take her picture
when she was talking to people who spoke Japanese;
at such times, a slight tension in her forehead, just above her nose,
I have often tried to imagine my distress if my one language was suddenly
not the one I needed to speak to people with.
Kiyoko was a sort of human bridge between the poetic culture of Japan
and life in California. Many of our lives have been enriched because of that.
Wearing this sweater
reminds me of
last year . . .
from Kiyoko's Sky, page 60