Emeryville Mudflats

I remember these sculptures and always anticipated them as we would head into Frisco (and yes the old timers born in San Francisco, like my dad, called it Frisco, and I am reclaiming it). I loved the whimsy even as my already environmentalist soul was worried about the trash. It is possible that at some point my dad made mention of the trash associated with the art, though I don't remember that specifically. And when I noticed it was gone I assumed it was for the sake of the animals that call the mudflats home, which I totally support. But that doesn't mean I am not grateful to the artists who made our drive fanciful or that I don't still stare wistfully out of the window to that muddy expanse when passing by, populating it with the sculptures of my youth.




Remembering the Emeryville Mudflats