In Sausalito during the 1950s, Enid Foster stood at the center of a magic world of poetry, performance, and visual wonder that owed as much to her powerful personality as it did to her brilliant art. In another time, that magic might have brought her fame, but in the 1950s, that art was too far beyond the mainstream. The curators, critics, and gallery owners who had recognized her as an internationally important sculptor thirty years before now only saw Sausalito's town character: a white-haired 60-year-old in frayed blue jeans, beat-up tennis shoes, and a railroad man's work shirt walking an old dog through town on her way to the bookstore-an amusing eccentric who made irrelevant art. They missed the magic, but those who understood it never forgot it. This book exists because the authors were among the fortunate few who fell under her spell. Enid's story needs to be told. Her art speaks for itself.