GH, You mentioned my stuttering a couple of times, and it made me realize it might be helpful to explain how I see it today.

As a teenager, my stutter was severe. It shaped my formative years and affected how I saw myself. By the time we were working together in New York, it was no longer the defining force it had once been, but it still colored my personality in ways that were probably visible to the people around me. I had reached a point where I simply decided it was not going to stop me from doing the things I wanted to do. Looking back, I think that determination became a bigger part of my character than the stutter itself.

Over the years it has continued to fade. I still stutter occasionally, but it rarely enters my decision-making anymore. It is simply one thread in the fabric of who I am.

One of the unexpected joys of this stage of my life is that I have become someone who loves bringing people together for conversation. Whether it’s four friends around a kitchen table or a formal roundtable with a dozen participants, I enjoy creating an environment where thoughtful dialogue can happen. There is something wonderfully ironic about that. The person who once struggled to speak has become someone who finds deep satisfaction in helping other people find their voices.

About four years ago, during an Arts District board meeting, we were standing in a newly acquired, completely empty space. I surprised myself by standing up and volunteering to turn it into a Welcome Center, on one condition: that it be built around dialogue and the history of our local arts community. To my surprise, the board said yes.

Over the next four years I built that vision piece by piece. We created a permanent roundtable for conversation, filled the walls with evolving historical timelines, recorded interviews, and established a place where artists could gather not just to exhibit work, but to reflect on where we had come from and where we might be going. It became one of the most satisfying projects of my later years because it was never really about a room. It was about creating the conditions for meaningful conversations to happen.

Now I feel that work is complete. The people, the structure, and the momentum are in place, and I am ready to leave it in capable hands. That frees me to focus on the things that excite me most—including whatever it is the three of us are beginning together.

I hope this gives both of you a better sense of who I am today. Thirty years have passed since we worked together. We are not the same people we were then, nor should we be. One of the most important parts of this new adventure, I think, will be rediscovering one another in our evolved states—not only as artists, but as friends.

The California Building Story Timeline