Well, I made the formal offer on the house on Wilson St. since I got the deposit money by way of a benefactor who shall remain nameless. Now I have to wait for Phyllis to accept it, which is a forgone conclusion, and then take the contract to the bank. At that point the ball should start to roll down hill and all I will have to do is keep up with it. I am still biting my nails over this move, but once things start to take on their own life, I will feel committed and out of control. I am comfortable in such situations.
I've been teaching watercolor to a fifteen year old girl this week. She's the daughter of a woman who's teaching harpsicord at Summerkeys. They are from New York and the kid has been studying at the Art Students League. The thought might have been intimidating to me, but it wasn't. Either I am comfortable with my teaching skills or I have delusions of grandeur, or , more likely, I don't have the attention span to think about it very long. Next week is the BIG workshop, when my old students flock here from points west for four days of painting, and pay me for the opportunity to have a good time. I play at being the teacher, but most of them are as good as I am. It's a reunion, though, and an acknowledgement of what we have become to one another over the years.
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