Posts Tagged ‘museum’

Mother Has Her Days


28 Dec

family

Back When Life Was Black & White

samplex

Dear Ricky—Here I am at my work station at school trying to reprint my entire semester's work in my writing class. I inadvertedly dropped the entire folder out of my notebook one day without realizing it and only salvaged a few pages that were still blowing in the wind in my yard and one neighbors when I returned home. What an awful feeling! Not only had I lost all of my work with teachers comments, but now my stuff could be in the hands of who knows who. Oh, well! Luckily, I had it all on two discs—one MacIntosh, here in the Education Library where I work and some on IBM disc where I was working in the college computer room. I'll go there when I finish here. Was going there anyway, because I am starting on the revision of my work on Euphanasia Euthanasia and Physician-Assisted Suicide, so I'll have an entry for this national ethics contest I am entering. It is due in Boston on January 22nd. It will probably take me that long to cut my twenty-two pages down to eight. This work I am retrieving now is what I intend to get an excerpt from to enter in the Writing Competition here at school in the coming semester. The more awards I can get, the more apt I am to be accepted in a grad school. Writing is my best bet.

We had a nice Christmas Day at Laurie's. Boo Boo has flown to San Antonio to see Jill—Left yesterday. I would have liked to gone with him, but it costs so much to fly.

Well, the printer has finally stopped, so I guess I am through here. I didn't realize I would have access to may E-Mail all during the holidays because of the computer room being open, and because I have access to this McIntosh in the Education Curriculum library.

A few days before Christmas Laurie and Joel and I came up to the museum here at school to see a sculpture exhibit that everyone should see. The work was done by a former art professor here (He's dead). Even Joel was impressed. He said, "Steven will be sorry he didn't come." Steven said he wanted to go to school that day because he couldn't miss seeing his girlfriend. Well, that's "young love".

I am just chatting on about nothing, so will close.

Love, M

Reply-To: "Margaret Nix" Date: Mon, 28 Dec 98 10:06:19 DT

Early Riser


11 Oct

wesamplex

Originally published on October 11, 1996

Today's Sue's 47th birthday. She's still asleep. I ache all over with a variety of old age outa shape self-abuse seasonal change ailments. Sinus. Pinched nerves. Left earbuzz half death and in a state of perpetual ringing caused at the Zodiac Mindwarp show in London [in '92]. Brain tumors. Colon cancer. The works.

Richard is leaving today on his way to Philadelphia to visit an old friend berfore returning to Georgia. It's been a rather enjoyable three days, but I think we've gone as far as we can go. He'll be seventy in February, has a classical art fetish, and knows little about the 20th century other than what he can remember from yesterday's news, although he has recently redeveloped his fondness for the Beatles. He gave us a nude he painted. The model is a Southern Baptist virgin schoolteacher he likes to tell for the laugh, although he actually paints from pictures in magazines or photographs he has taken. In this case, the former method was used. His style is impressionistic much in the fashion of Renoir, whose works the two of us took in at the Phillips Collection earlier this week.

I'm rather peeved that my fancy monitor hasn't arrived yet. If it doesn't show today, Apple's three week delivery projection will have been proved bogus. Meanwhile, the 8500 just sits on the table unattached. Of course, I recall your PC sat in the box for quite some time before you developed the right combination of enough interest, nerve, and need to string it all together...

Appreciated your last letter as usual. Everybody's beginning to stir, so I 'll sign off and join them...

Love and other short whiffs of similar stench,

Gabriel

S A M P L E X

"Ignorance and virtue suck on the same straw. Souls grow on bones, but die beneath bankers' hours.""


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