Lucille (Lulu) Harris

Lucille Harris practiced with us for years. I remember her at Tassajara. She was older than almost all of us, short, seemed to have a back problem, terrible varicose veins, and a marvelous sense of humor. She had an apartment in North Beach where she'd lived for a long time, a son and a daughter who's names I'll try to find later. He worked at the Spaghetti Factory in North Beach and I think Lucille worked there too but I don't know for how long. When I'd visit her in North Beach I'd ring the bell hanging from below her 2nd floor window and she'd lower a key down to you. She was an artist. She was called Lulu a lot. She moved to Hawaii at some point and got into snorkeling or diving. I wrote a song for her called Lulu's Gone. One day I got word that Lulu had died while snorkling or diving. We had a memorial service for her at Green Gulch, well attended. Her kids were there. I played the song and this time "Lulu's Gone" really meant it. I'll make a page for the song and post a link to it here soon. - DC

Liz Horowitz wrote: "Have you ever seen this wonderful painting by Lucille Harris? Mel always had this painting.  When we got married in 1978, SFZC asked us what we wanted for a gift and I suggested we ask for a painting(s) by Lucille because this one is so wonderful.  She painted it at Tassajara in the summer of 1970 and gave it to Mel. It shows Suzuki Roshi, Mel Weitsman, and Alan Marlowe."

They're on the way to the Zendo crossing the bridge over the small creek. Mel was jisha, personal attendant, and Alan was anja, room cleaner. She included the little statue at the entrance to the bridge. This view can only be from down in the small creek before it meets Tassajara Creek.


Below - found online: (lot of 2) Lucille Harris (American, 20th century), "Autumnscape and Rain (from the Tassajara Series)," 1970/1972, watercolors, signed/initialed lower right, titled and dated verso, overalls (with frames): 9.75"h x 7.75"w. Provenance: From the private collection of Jose Ramon Lerma (American, b.1930)

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Below: Another one from Liz Horowitz