May 30, 2005
I admit I have wrapped myself in my art colony application as shelter from the more tedious aspects of Constance's move. I'm glad I used a pencil. Perhaps oral history might be more up my path than the sculpture. Manolo just informed me that the ice maker has broken again. Some memories of the seventies for my memoirs: 1. The awful way 1960s fashion came to an end. Wow, that list should be longer. I guess I could talk about how much time I spent in the Arizona desert trying to find myself. Maybe that's why my list is so short. It's like the song "Both sides now". You either prefer the Joni Mitchell version or Judy Collins'. There is no fence to sit on.