Last hours, reflecting back
I pretty much landed running, this trip. I got in more social stuff than I usually do in the entire following year, and it was all excellent.
I went out on a high note; while in Boston, my hostess and I met up nineweaving to tour part of the Fogg Museum of Art. I was especially delighted to see the impressionists, having over the summer read Mary McAuliffe's When Paris Sizzled; though I'd often looked up bits of art as I read along, it's tough to see detail on screen, and I couldn't always find what I wanted. I was particularly interested to see something by Man Ray. What a name, Man Ray! I suspect an editor of a novel would ask for a more believable name. Anyway, Nine and I traded opinions of brushstroke, color, and what the paintings seemed to reveal about those caught forever in that moment of their lives.
Afterward, chocolate at Burdick's, with a group of poets. The conversation ranged over books, reading, history, art, writing, and I gave an impassioned rec for Nirvana in Fire that probably bored the snot out of everybody. High Tea the next day in the charming town of Wellesley, and then homeward bound, with a stop in Chicago to meet up with Jennifer Stevenson, and a ramble around downtown Chicago as we talked indie marketing and narrative voice and writing things. Good food, chocolate, ends this trip on a great note.
I went out on a high note; while in Boston, my hostess and I met up nineweaving to tour part of the Fogg Museum of Art. I was especially delighted to see the impressionists, having over the summer read Mary McAuliffe's When Paris Sizzled; though I'd often looked up bits of art as I read along, it's tough to see detail on screen, and I couldn't always find what I wanted. I was particularly interested to see something by Man Ray. What a name, Man Ray! I suspect an editor of a novel would ask for a more believable name. Anyway, Nine and I traded opinions of brushstroke, color, and what the paintings seemed to reveal about those caught forever in that moment of their lives.
Afterward, chocolate at Burdick's, with a group of poets. The conversation ranged over books, reading, history, art, writing, and I gave an impassioned rec for Nirvana in Fire that probably bored the snot out of everybody. High Tea the next day in the charming town of Wellesley, and then homeward bound, with a stop in Chicago to meet up with Jennifer Stevenson, and a ramble around downtown Chicago as we talked indie marketing and narrative voice and writing things. Good food, chocolate, ends this trip on a great note.