Barking Crab, clam chowda!
Boston Waterfront.
Yum!
Under the umbrella ... and the hoodie.
Getting off the T on the way to the Institute of Contemporary Art.
Don and I at
Acqua on my last night. Do I look drunk? There's a reason for that. They gave me a ton of shit for what I drank -- something called a Ginger Mojito Magic, a Coconut Rum, and the Pomegranate Martini that's pictured -- but hey. They also paid.
Don's very unsatisfactory tea selection.
Acqua: Me, Don, Jonty, Judy, and Alvin. I drove down, Don drove back.
Judy with the "Senior Colonist" t-shirt.
With Alvin. What an amazing guy!
With Pete, a kick-ass dude who ISN'T SMILING. He did smile when I flipped him off at dinner the other night, though.
Don with the Senior Colonist shirt. I flipped him off the night after I flipped off Pete.
Pan's Cottage, my cozy dorm.
Blake's big green truck. When you see this sucker coming, you know it's lunchtime!
Classic MacDowell. Taken from inside Judy's studio, Alexander. Hers was one of my favorites. It was like a damn stone monastery.
Just gorgeous.
A painter's studio can be so much more colorful than a writer's.
We all worked on this one when Judy was starting out, dipping our brushes and experimenting when she had an open studio for her birthday. I'd say she improved on our efforts.
With Blake!
Lunch baskets waiting to be filled.
Savidge Library, 11 a.m.
On my way!
Woody's Farm Stand, Leominster, MA.
Have a seat. Or two.
Classic New England fall morning.
Pick a pumpkin, any pumpkin.
These guys were irresistible ...
So I fed them.
Blurry but very evocative picture of the desk at which I worked (when I wasn't working outside) for a month.
Left to right: a card from Adam, a quote from Ayelet Waldman's "Bad Mother", a sketch of my studio, and some colony info. Below the card is a scrap of paper I pulled from the Oracle outside Chapman Studio on my second night. It reads: "Who will I be a year from now?"
Barking Crab, clam chowda!
Boston Waterfront.
Yum!
Under the umbrella ... and the hoodie.
Getting off the T on the way to the Institute of Contemporary Art.
Don and I at Acqua on my last night. Do I look drunk? There's a reason for that. They gave me a ton of shit for what I drank -- something called a Ginger Mojito Magic, a Coconut Rum, and the Pomegranate Martini that's pictured -- but hey. They also paid.
Don's very unsatisfactory tea selection.
Acqua: Me, Don, Jonty, Judy, and Alvin. I drove down, Don drove back.
Judy with the "Senior Colonist" t-shirt.
With Alvin. What an amazing guy!
With Pete, a kick-ass dude who ISN'T SMILING. He did smile when I flipped him off at dinner the other night, though.
Don with the Senior Colonist shirt. I flipped him off the night after I flipped off Pete.
Pan's Cottage, my cozy dorm.
Blake's big green truck. When you see this sucker coming, you know it's lunchtime!
Classic MacDowell. Taken from inside Judy's studio, Alexander. Hers was one of my favorites. It was like a damn stone monastery.
Just gorgeous.
A painter's studio can be so much more colorful than a writer's.
We all worked on this one when Judy was starting out, dipping our brushes and experimenting when she had an open studio for her birthday. I'd say she improved on our efforts.
With Blake!
Lunch baskets waiting to be filled.
Savidge Library, 11 a.m.
On my way!
Woody's Farm Stand, Leominster, MA.
Have a seat. Or two.
Classic New England fall morning.
Pick a pumpkin, any pumpkin.
These guys were irresistible ...
So I fed them.
Blurry but very evocative picture of the desk at which I worked (when I wasn't working outside) for a month.
Left to right: a card from Adam, a quote from Ayelet Waldman's "Bad Mother", a sketch of my studio, and some colony info. Below the card is a scrap of paper I pulled from the Oracle outside Chapman Studio on my second night. It reads: "Who will I be a year from now?"
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