earthly possessions


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.

One thought on “earthly possessions

  1. Jackie, I am a watercolor pantier and occasional teacher who lives in a cottage in the woods, on a tiny peninsula poking out into the Pacific on the west coast of the US Washington state. I have followed your blog for several years and love your work as well as the way you share your life with those of us who lurk here. My morning visits to your studio brighten my predominately gray days we get over two and half meters of rain here every year. I love your reports on all the new techniques you try and find them inspiring. I tried the gold leaf on a painting of young cowboys and ponies and sold it for a tidy sum. I was wondering if you get bothered by the solitude of your studio at times? Pat

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