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I DID MOST OF THE WORK for this book on a lake, Lake Michigan. We live in Chicago, and last summer I ran to the water almost every day, to play with my daughters in the sand, to swim, and to sketch the bathers. Chicago has great beaches. I find myself in the water more in Illinois than I did when we lived in California. Since there are salty aspects to beaches a lake does not have, I flew back to Connecticut to a beach I went to as a child, and spent a day drawing crab legs and seaweed. I also tried to remember the beaches from Cape Hatteras to Fire Island that I have loved. Then I threw these sketches and memories together, to summon up a summer day at the beach, the type of day that holds such an attraction for many of us, I think. I look at this book as a Chicago book (the lighthouse is a lighthouse at the head of the Chicago River), which makes odd sense to me. Because even a city beach on a lake has the essential things that make a beach a beach: a place to lie on ones back and look at the clouds, to listen to seagulls, to watch people walk past in ridiculous swimsuits. A place where sand and water meet.
Kirkus 5.1.06 New York Times 8.13.06 USA Today 7.19.06
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