A Gift from My Father-in-Law

I go to Greenpoint in Brooklyn about four days a week. I hardly ever had a regular job in my life, but after moving to Manhattan 12 years ago, I kept my old studio in Greenpoint for printmaking. I work there from noon to six, then drag my tired body back home. I get exhausted, but I still feel proud that I have the strength to commute and work.

It was my first Christmas after getting married. My father-in-law sent us plane tickets, so we flew to LA. I didn’t have money for Christmas gifts, so I brought one of my prints in a frame.

“Father, I brought my artwork as a gift.”
“This is a print, isn’t it?”
“Yes. After coming to New York, I studied printmaking. I made this when I was in school.”
“Then you need a printing press.”

One spring day in 1990, I received a letter from my father-in-law with a large check inside.

“Buy a printing press. You shouldn’t waste what you studied. Supporting your husband and raising the children is good, but don’t stop doing what you love. Make sure you buy a press and focus on your work. I worry about your mother-in-law. The only things she knows are cooking, laundry, and cleaning. I’m afraid she will grow old with nothing to do and depend only on her children.”

That warm spring day, driving down a country road near Philadelphia to buy a printing press, was one of the happiest moments of my life. With tears in my eyes, I thought, “Father, thank you. I will work hard.”

When I lived in Greenpoint and had a studio, raised my children, and supported my artist husband. It was a hard life. Thinking about Greenpoint reminds me of dark and heavy memories. For many years, I avoided the old dye factory area where our first studio stood, with its tall, black, brick chimney. I still remember shivering in the cold.

After not doing printmaking for several years, I struggled at first. But after a few days, I began to enjoy it again. I felt like I had returned to my younger days. Cleaning and polishing the zinc plate is tiring, but it gives me energy and joy. When I draw on the plate and run it through the press, my strong husband helps me. The kids also stop by sometimes to cheer me on.

“That’s the press Grandpa bought.”
“I know. Grandpa was truly a good person.”