Post MacDowell, back into the ‘real’ world, Greg trotted me off to New York City one day after I returned home. No need to settle in uselessly; just visit the big city, dwell in a New York state of mind (which is oddly similar to MacDowell’s); rest and relax and even draw.
I’m chuckling to myself as I peer at my Roman Numerals. They suddenly look like a clothesline! Have I mentioned that I’m feeling awe-fully happy?
December 6 I arrived at MacDowell; today, there’s but one week left of my 8-week residency. I’ve kept it somewhat quiet, and because I’ve been here through the holidays, no cards and no parties. Greg drove up to spend a solstice weekend with me, and then we settled on, “I’ll see you in 6 weeks,” as he left.
They call it a gift of time and space. And what a gift. The snow, the forest – with deer and foxes, wild turkeys, a bobcat; three views of Mt. Monadnock changing daily; and a constantly rotating group of artists coming and going, to keep one’s head spinning or in the clouds. A lunchbasket delivered to my door every day. Breakfast and dinner, delicious, spent in common, and presentations nearly every evening.
Quite a different world, indeed. I’m lucky Eyes Wide Open was able to accompany me. She has a talent for accepting a world that often stuns me senseless. This has been that kind of place and that kind of time.
. . . and yes, it happened nearly overnight.
I would like to breathe in Jenny Holzer’s advice.
Some adventures are brand new; some are favorites we return to. I like going to Sturbridge Village, an historical working site set in the mid-1800s. I came for classes one weekend, sewed a primitive doll and painted a floor cloth, while Greg went bird-watching. On this weekend we just wandered most of the day, a day filled with demonstrations, and yes, we had a fine time.
It seems fitting that, as winter descends, I post my end of summer days. Fitting as well that this particular day found me sitting outside for long stretches of drawing – as I watched Greg in his gardener role, thoroughly enjoying what this garden has to offer, or sitting quietly staring into the forest. For the forest today, as I write in mid-November, is nothing like it was then. How things change here! This is yet one more thing I find I’m liking about New England. Seasons change so fast from one to another, I just can’t keep up. It might snow soon!
A trip to Oregon in summer will, hopefully, always be welcome. The main purpose was my 50th high school reunion (…!). I grew up in a small sheltered town in the 50s–60s. Visiting with about 100 of our classmates this decade was one of the nicest things I could imagine – our world back then must have been fairly simple, even with Vietnam hovering as we left. We were lucky, I guess, and I am lucky still to get wrapped back into that cocoon every so often.
