Some of John’s paintings (left). Archived version of John’s zenpond.com (right).

John and Joyce

In October 2022, my wife, Marissa, and I moved into our first home. It’s a standard ranch in a classic 1960s suburb. But stepping through the front door feels like stepping into an artist’s life’s work. The kitchen, living room, and dining room were opened, lofted, and redone in a Scandinavian-Japanese (Japandi) style that still looks modern over 20 years after the remodel. But the heart of the home is in the backyard water gardens.

We bought the home from the estate of a couple, John and Joyce, who lived there for over twenty years in what I imagine was an imperfect yet irreplaceable love that can only exist in a marriage of five decades or more. We read about John and Joyce in their obituaries, correctly assuming that people who would have such a cool house would be cool (or at least have similar taste to us). There were immediately areas in which we felt a kinship to them: cat people, Jayhawks, into tea gardens, no kids but many nieces and nephews. I thought John sounded cool, being an inventor, pilot, veteran, computer scientist, sculptor, painter, koi pond builder, and apparent DIY enthusiast.  

I wanted to learn all I could about them--in particular about John, who lived the kind of multifaceted and fearless life I aspire to. I have learned, and felt, more serendipitous John-ness than I would have believed. Most of it came through meeting his friends.

First, I met Scott, who was John’s “extra hand” (Scott’s words) for many zenpond projects over the years. Scott is a brilliant guy, and he taught me how pond pumps work, how to cement PVC, and otherwise gave me the confidence to manage a 30,000 gallon pond (which terrified me at the beginning). He learned plumbing as a boilerman in the US Navy. And Scott is a talented artist. He probably doesn’t know that my favorite artwork in our home is a print of his, called Thirst, that I bought online (his niece has the original). 

Then, I met Hans, who lived 3 houses down. Within what felt like a few hours of moving in, mid-nineties-and-very-German Hans was in our driveway telling us about his friendship with John and how his French wife had worked for Dior. He’d also been riding his lawnmower over and taking care of the grass since John passed. He told me I should meet our neighbor, Mark, who was “the best of friends” with John, and I hoped to. I enjoyed only a few more conversations with Hans--mostly as he sat on his front porch waiting for visitors--before he passed away, but I feel tremendously grateful for those opportunities.

Next, I met our next door neighbor, Earl. Earl is 94 and still routinely out in the yard working. The two clearly had their philosophical differences (such as on the goodness of feeding ducks in the yard, and probably on the reality of climate change). Earl has been a gracious and welcoming neighbor, and solved the mystery of the backyard black cat, who we’d been calling Jinglebob and wondering whether it was John and Joyce’s. She is actually Earl’s nominally-feral outdoor cat named Shiba. 

Derrick was next. He was “just” the exterminator but talked about John like a good friend. And Sandy, who walked by often to visit with both John and Hans. We also got to meet Joyce’s sister, Carol, and their niece, Karen, who were so kind despite the discomfort in such a meeting. Carol left a photo album that John and Joyce had made of their renovation experience, which we’ve gleefully thumbed through many times. 

Then we met Mark, who lives 4 houses down from zenpond and was best friends with John over the last 5 years of John’s life. Mark is an abstract expressionist artist, and you can tell that it is his calling in life. But, he says it was not until he met John that he gave it a try, well into his 50s. John motivated, mentored, and collaborated with Mark as he established himself as a professional artist.  

And despite never having met John, I feel the same is true for me. 

The Artist’s Dream

I’ve always seen myself as a creative person, and especially as some kind of Writer-in-Waiting. Somehow, over the last decade, I’ve found myself working in law firms, non-profits, and in venture capital. All exciting stuff, but it always felt transitory. Over that time, I kicked the tires on several novels, wrote a lot of poetry, and dabbled in nature photography. I eventually created my studio website, The Moonlit Library, to give myself an outlet for these. Despite being an artistic kid, I’d done very little painting or drawing since.

Then, a few weeks after moving into John and Joyce’s former home, around Christmas, I had a dream. The kind of vivid dream that burns itself into your memory, but you write it all down anyway so as to not lose any details. In the dream, Marissa and I were in zenpond with John and Joyce. They hosted us warm heartedly in the kitchen. We went through each room together as they did their favorite things one last time: playing with the cats, feeding the fish, blasting music on the speakers, and cooking a meal all together. It was a kind of “moving on” ceremony.  At the end of the dream, John and Joyce got into a small plane and he flew them into the night towards a castle in the sky shrouded by clouds. The next day, I made a feeble attempt at painting the castle. This was my first time painting in years. You can see my skill was (and is) far below John’s own castle painting (both below). But it was a spark that has burned into a passion for visual art, for the ability to coax forms from a wordless place.

Marissa and I agree that there is a special energy here. It makes us feel creative and peaceful. The full reason may not be understood, and the artful care in the design and construction of this space plays a role. But they’re with us, in a way.

zenpond.com - Excavating the Archives

Living in this home is living in an unraveling mystery. As I do my best to maintain the pond, yard, and home, I uncover clues as to how and why things here are as they are. I love it. And, I feel like I get to know John as I learn about his very unique approach to irrigation systems, pond plumbing, or landscaping. I assumed my discoveries of John would remain infrequent and on practical matters like light bulb choice. 

But, it turns out, John had a website called zenpond.com. I heard about a  “pond website” from a couple of neighbors, but nobody remembered the URL. It was a colleague of John’s, Greg--who I met at a “Cessna gang” event organized by Mark--who finally remembered. The website was no longer available, but I could access archived versions of many pages through Wayback Machine. 

John’s website was elaborate, with new entries at least monthly for a period of over 20 years. I began my excavations immediately, knowing it could take months or years to shift through it all. 

I quickly learned that John’s favorite book was Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert Pirsig, which I speculate planted the seed for John’s interest in Eastern aesthetics and religion. Serendipitously, I happened to be reading that same book at the same time, at the urging of my uncle Dan, who is a great artistic inspiration for me. One takeaway from that book was an appreciation for taking extraordinary care in everyday life; the core of the zen practice of mindfulness. That is where the zenpond project comes from. In John’s words “The intersection of these two events, pond building and studying Zen meditation, is ..."zenpond". 

And now, I take up that project; as we all inherit a world, and a life, that is far from a blank slate. I’ll check back in later with what I find.

My attempt to paint the castle from the dream (above). John’s painting of a German castle (below).

Images top to bottom: Two images of zenpond. Scott showing me how to use the pond equipment. Scott’s painting, Thirst. Marissa and I’s first photo at zenpond.

The pond was initially constructed in 1996, made with gunnite (sprayed concrete) (right). Sample journal entries from John, May 2005, December 2001 (below).

Below are pictures of the current state of zenpond and my art inspired by it.