Six Generations of First Born Women

The thought of someone wanting to use my feet as a model for a piece of sculpture takes me aback. I'd never thought of my feet as being particularly attractive. I'm suddenly self conscious. "Do you think they're good enough?" I ask, slightly incredulous. "I wouldn't have asked if I didn't think they... Sign in to see full entry.

He's a sculptor. Tanned and just returned to Boston from a residency in Roswell New Mexico. He's looking for studio space. His name is Robin. I am blinded by him. The moth drawn to a flame now has meaning. It's part of my job to help artists find suitable work space. "Can I help you?" I ask. We both... Sign in to see full entry.

I have sexual amnesia when I try to remember those most intimate moments with Pete. Sex had lured him to me but my attraction to him was a more conscious, calculated thing. Once, after we had been married about six years I suggested we consider having other sexual relationships within the context of... Sign in to see full entry.

This marriage will suffocate me. Now the lying begins in earnest. I open a separate bank account in my name. We'd always had a joint account. Neither of us had much concern about money perse, just as long as we could meet basic needs and feed ourselves seemed to be enough. We never fought about... Sign in to see full entry.

Work on the Dream House was over. Not that it was finished. We just stopped the improvements. It was livable. I spent much of my time painting in the garage/studio behind the house. I'm a physical painter. I didn't do "over the sofa" sized paintings. I liked to use my whole body, make big gestures... Sign in to see full entry.