The Little Tour That Could
Okay, how sad is this--it's almost 1:30am--I just drove back from Northampton and I am on my blog! I'll admit it, I wanted to see if anybody commented--especially Erica (!), who it was so GRAND to see last night.
Well, folks. I did it. The little tour that could is over. Tomorrow I get on a bus bound back to New York. I'm not sure how I feel about it all yet. Tonight was another odd mixture of feeling like I must be the most talentless hack and feeling like does it matter if I am a talentless hack. I talked to Graham on the way home tonight, and he said, "The important thing is, you did it." Which is true. I dared myself. Now what? We'll see.
Today was hot, but glorious. I drove early to Northampton and went on my Artist Date, by going to the Rare Book Room at Smith College, and looked at Sylvia Plath's original drafts and her heavily underlined dictionary. It was HEAVEN. I love seeing ink and handwriting and crossing out by someone who was an original and who remains a mentor for me.
Then I rushed off to University of Massachusetts, Amherst and spent a delightful half hour playing songs and being interviewed on WMUA (Hi Lee!). I was late. I got lost (of course). Then I found it. Why are college radio stations always in the basement? Is it because there is no light needed? Is it because the arty and the indie folks like not knowing what time of day it REALLY is? I don't know, but I can tell you this: I like doing radio. I like doing radio so much, that after leaving the campus, I was trying to figure out if I could go on a radio-only tour. It's very cosy and kind of a secret world, radio. The people behind th emicrophones are often nice and have soft voices. Then people call, and you feel like you are in a secret telephone to the whole world.
After the radio fun, I went back to Smith and just walked around the campus. Here's a secret: I have a secret fantasy of going to Smith. It's so old and has this GORGEOUS campus. Plus, it's all highly intellegent girls. I walked everywhere and found only young women talking to eachother and laughing, hugging books to their chests. I wondered what brought them to Smith. It seems like such a secret society. Not only did Sylvia Plath go to Smith, but so did Julia Child. Sure, it made sense in their day, but what drives young women today to seek out an all women school (besides the obvious answer)?
Well, it's WAY PAST my bedtime. More tomorrow, I am sure. Thanks for all your support, dear readers. Thanks for travelling with me this last week, as I chuffed along the hill, chanting I think I can I think I can I think I can...
Well, folks. I did it. The little tour that could is over. Tomorrow I get on a bus bound back to New York. I'm not sure how I feel about it all yet. Tonight was another odd mixture of feeling like I must be the most talentless hack and feeling like does it matter if I am a talentless hack. I talked to Graham on the way home tonight, and he said, "The important thing is, you did it." Which is true. I dared myself. Now what? We'll see.
Today was hot, but glorious. I drove early to Northampton and went on my Artist Date, by going to the Rare Book Room at Smith College, and looked at Sylvia Plath's original drafts and her heavily underlined dictionary. It was HEAVEN. I love seeing ink and handwriting and crossing out by someone who was an original and who remains a mentor for me.
Then I rushed off to University of Massachusetts, Amherst and spent a delightful half hour playing songs and being interviewed on WMUA (Hi Lee!). I was late. I got lost (of course). Then I found it. Why are college radio stations always in the basement? Is it because there is no light needed? Is it because the arty and the indie folks like not knowing what time of day it REALLY is? I don't know, but I can tell you this: I like doing radio. I like doing radio so much, that after leaving the campus, I was trying to figure out if I could go on a radio-only tour. It's very cosy and kind of a secret world, radio. The people behind th emicrophones are often nice and have soft voices. Then people call, and you feel like you are in a secret telephone to the whole world.
After the radio fun, I went back to Smith and just walked around the campus. Here's a secret: I have a secret fantasy of going to Smith. It's so old and has this GORGEOUS campus. Plus, it's all highly intellegent girls. I walked everywhere and found only young women talking to eachother and laughing, hugging books to their chests. I wondered what brought them to Smith. It seems like such a secret society. Not only did Sylvia Plath go to Smith, but so did Julia Child. Sure, it made sense in their day, but what drives young women today to seek out an all women school (besides the obvious answer)?
Well, it's WAY PAST my bedtime. More tomorrow, I am sure. Thanks for all your support, dear readers. Thanks for travelling with me this last week, as I chuffed along the hill, chanting I think I can I think I can I think I can...
posted by Summer Pierre at
4:21 AM
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