I'm bigger than a pile of breadboxes, but smaller than a Sherman tank. I'm overeducated, underpaid but very content with my life.
I have loved infrequently but intensely. I dated a poet, divorced a Dean, had an affair with a jazz pianist, was engaged to a diplomat, and widowed by my child's father.
The men in my life were all very special. Not all grand passions but much loved in their time: Leonard Cohen, Alfred Pinsky, Billy Horn, Wendell Goodin, and Elliot Hirschman. Thanks for the memories...
I'm a lapsed artist which doesn't really trouble me because I'm a very successful parent. I lacked the requisite conceit to persevere as an artist. I just couldn't make myself believe that my art came before my child. The world really doesn't need another sculptor (even a good one), but it does need another good human being. It can use all the good human beings we can turn out.
I present Mambolica as my evidence so judge for yourselves.