In“ By Hope Katz Gibbs the beginning, the boy thought he saw his father everywhere. Outside the latrines. Underneath the showers.
Leaning against barrack doorways. It was 1942. Utah.
Late summer. The wind was hot and dry and the rain
rarely fell and wherever the boy looked he saw him:
Daddy, Papa, Father, Oto-san.”
AND SO BEGINS the third and title chapter of Julie
“After I graduated from Yale with a degree in stu-
dio art, I went on to get my master’s of fine arts at
Indiana University in Bloomington, but dropped out
after three months,” says the California native, who
has lived in New York City for the last 25 years. “I was
too young to handle the pressure of grad school, but
more than that, I became extremely self-conscious
and felt very inhibited. Eventually, painting wasn’t fun
anymore. So I gave it up.”