That first Greenwood Pier Café was for the lumber mill workers, hunters and fishermen, with a grill, a deep fryer, a jukebox, 11 counter stools and three tables. By the end of the 60's the mill had closed down and half the town moved away, to be replaced by the "newcomers" as the euphemism for the dropouts from urban and academic lives were called.

When I moved here in 1968 the houses were crumbling apart, but what I saw were the incredible rock formations in the ocean. I was inspired to make it a place of beauty. Since I had no money, I started with the gardens - planting all but a few of the trees that are now mature. Shanti and I ran the café, creating colorful salads with nasturtiums on them, unheard of at the time.

We had Friday night Tempura with borage clusters and veggies grown in our garden. The Greenwood Sidemen, -- an offshoot of the Cat Mother Band - often played on weekends. There were monthly poetry readings, attended by both local and out-of-town poets.

Then gradually the buildings came, first the Cliffhouse (built as a meditation hall) and the Garden Cottage (built as a live-in babysitter's room). They were the first of the accommodations at the Greenwood Pier Inn by 1980. The main house was guilt in 1984 , with a central cupola, to emulate the old schoolhouses up and down the coast. Its deck with the arbor has been the scene for many weddings over the years. We provide the flowers, the catering and coordinate it all.

The Country Store was added in 1986, after being a residence since about 1910 (it was a dry goods store for 20 years before that). It now has a diverse stock of clothing, jewelry, herbal medicines, local art and craft, books, music and toys.

The Sea Castles, with their double-sized tubs up a spiral staircase, were built in 1988. They have the same incredible view as the Cliffhouse of the cove below with its rock formations of numerous arches, including "Two Dinosaurs Kissing." The inn building has five rooms, all with two-person Jacuzzis and decks looking out to the ocean. The Tower, a new addition last year, was built around an original water tower and is long and high like a ship - three levels including a sleeping loft high up.

The Garden Shop, with its granite and marble mosaic floor, was built in 1992. There is an incredible variety of garden art and crafts by locals, stone Buddhas and other statuary and gongs from Asia, rugs from Africa and the Middle East, Central American ceramics. Something from practically every part of the globe.

The Old House, where the office is, was remodeled in 2001. It had been moved from the original town of Cuffey's Cove prior to 1890, so is probably one of the oldest buildings in town. Beams and all are constructed of virgin redwood (the square nails were starting to rust away).

Meanwhile the gardens have flourished in this mild coastal climate. My personal interest has been the huge variety of colorful annuals (many not seen elsewhere on the coast) that it is possible to grow here, with similarities to both English and Mediterranean climates. In the center of the Inn complex are 12 rays of raised beds in a circle, from which many of the herbs and vegetables we use in the Café derive.

The Café, totally rebuilt in 1996, works around creative treatment of fresh ingredients from the garden and the ocean. Now during weekend dinners you might hear the music of Annierose, who has a most beautiful soaring voice.

Well, you might be wondering where the artwork on the cover comes in. I often wonder, too. This is a demanding business, but I do try to remove myself from it at least one a year. My cut paper collages began in 1970 when I decided to make Christmas Cards while I was doing the Ramadan fast - not eating from dawn to dusk for a month. I probably made about 80. Each year after that I made about half as much as the previous year but doubled in size. They were no longer Christmas Cards.

I still do paper cutting with airbrush during Ramadan, but rarely finish one in a month. Each one becomes for me an inner unfolding while I'm fasting, gradually transcending the physical during the month, from feeling clumsy and unfocused to an excitement of finding meaning and fluidity with both intention or accident. Some part of the geography of the Greenwood Pier is often in them - the ocean, the sunsets, the rock formations.

I think I've internalized my environment over the 30-plus years I've been here. The pictures project a different world, as a dream does that surface images in a watery flow, never the same as reality and dancing with the enigmas that are our birthright.