“Under the Boardwalk
down by the sea,
on a blanket with my baby,
that’s where I’ll be.”

—The Drifters

Growing up, Barbara Clark spent every summer at the Jersey shore. The space under the boardwalk holds many different memories. Unlike the beach which was light, hot, fun and spacious, the boardwalk provided a place, secret, cool and damp, with mysteries inherent in its debris, its smells, its whispered, forbidden adventures. And yet, looking out, there was the sparkling ocean, the sun and beach, bustling activity.

As a girl., Patria Brown spent summers near lakes in Oklahoma and Indiana. Not until her teens did she experience the festive, sleazy atmosphere of Atlantic City’s boardwalk. She remembers salt water taffy, tinny music, hot colors of women’s sun dresses and life guard’s muscles. The space under the boardwalk had not inspired her until Barbara showed her the paintings.

The shades and shapes evoked dark, shadowy places in Patria’s life, along with fantasies of Barbara’s childhood, but far more important, the works brought to her poems an expanded history of a place through its elements: the trees that died to make it, the wind that seasoned it and the destinies and longings of the souls that worked and played there.

Barbara Clark
Patria Brown
Menlo Park, California
February 1998