earthly possessions

all-my-earthly-possessions-small

Apologies for the poor quality of this, but it’s 11:30 PM and I’m taking pictures of drawings with my phone in a dimly-lit living room.

The above is an accurate representation of the last week of my life: travelling on a lot of trains, both above and below ground, with nothing but the items shown.* It was – unsurprisingly – liberating. Things I missed having, in order of how much I missed them: my camera, my water bottle, my laptop, more books. Things I did not miss at all: additional toiletries, additional clothes, a sense of responsibility. Something about travelling so¬†lightly made me feel like I’d fallen off of the radar, ceased to exist to the ordinary world. Slipped between the cracks, in a good way. The laws of convention stopped applying to me.

Q: How did I wind up spending a whole week travelling with only these few scant items?
A: An overly ambitious New York social schedule, and an excess of booze (consumed by both myself and others.)

For now, sleeping again in Pawling, NY. Tomorrow, Washington DC, and by the end of the week, Miami. Where temperatures will reach 26 degrees (I can hardly imagine it – we skated on a frozen pond this afternoon), and I will encounter alligators and swim in the ocean. A few more stops and then New Orleans for Mardi Gras (Feb. 17th), and then MEXICO. Sleep tight…

 

* Including the clothes on my back, which, for those interested: Doc Martens from grade 11, two pairs of socks, black jeans, underwear, bra, undershirt, button-down shirt, cardigan, silk scarf, wool scarf, down jacket, hat. And, oh, my wallet. And some lip balm.

Drawing at the Boston MFA

Boston MFA

On Wednesdays, the Boston MFA is admission-by-donation – which, as was explained to me by Susie the first time we went to the Met together, means that you can LITERALLY PAY THEM A FREAKING NICKEL and they have to let you in! – revolutionary to my 17-year-old self, now a tried and true life strategy. At any rate, this Wednesday I took myself out for a perfect $11 night: $1 for entry to the MFA, including a remarkable Goya exhibit and a free life drawing session with the curious model pictured above; $8 for one glass of wine in the gallery that went straight to my head and allayed any fears that I might need a second; and $2 for a slice of greasy cheese pizza that I scoffed as I began the long walk back to Susie’s house.

Boston MFABoston MFA