Friday, June 20, 2003
FINDING THE EXIT, Sex and Lies continued... Monday, June 16, 2003
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 money. After that scene several years ago when I made a last ditch effort to get him to quit drinking, we never fought at all, about anything. I was just happy that he seemed happy and left me alone to pursue my work.
I start depositing all my pay checks in my account. I tell Pete that I have to find a new studio, the garage is just not big enough, the paintings are forcing me out. He understands. At a BVAU (Boston Visual Artists Union) meeting I connect with 5 other artists who have found some studio space at Fort Point. This is an industrial area in Boston that has a lot of vacant manufacturing space built around the turn of the century. It was like no-man's-land in the late 1970's and early '80's and the original owners, The Boston Wharf Company, were renting whole floors to artists. Thousands of feet of space with high ceilings and huge windows overlooking the channel to Boston Harbor were being rented for a song. Of course they were just shells with no insulation, some heat or too much heat, freight elevators and that's about it. They invited me to come see the space, they needed one more person in on the deal to make it work. It was an entire floor on the fifth floor at 215 "A" street. This is right near where Boston's "Big Dig" is today. I had never ridden in a freight elevator before. It clanked and groaned as the ropes and pulleys hauled us up. It was a little scary. I step out into the space. It is so huge, so open, so empty it takes my breath away. This is unchartered territory. I can begin something new right here. I sign on.
We figure we can divide the space into 6 studios, but we will have to build the walls ourselves. Any improvements on the individual spaces will have to be done by the occupant. Plumbing is a problem. I didn't know a thing about this stuff, I had to trust my partners, all guys, two worked in construction. We only have plumbing and bathroom facilities at one end of the space. Not my end. Turns out, to extend plumbing and have running water in all the spaces was way beyond our means. We would all have to share one big industrial sized sink, one bathtub with a jury-rigged shower and two toilets, all for 6 people, their partners, lovers and friends. Now these spaces were not zoned as "live-work" spaces, but almost everybody lived in their studios and Boston Wharf company closed their eyes and collected the rents. We started building the walls right after signing the lease. I would be working there late in the evenings. Pete knew we were doing the work ourselves. He had no idea I planned to move in as soon as it was finished.
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 money. After that scene several years ago when I made a last ditch effort to get him to quit drinking, we never fought at all, about anything. I was just happy that he seemed happy and left me alone to pursue my work.
I start depositing all my pay checks in my account. I tell Pete that I have to find a new studio, the garage is just not big enough, the paintings are forcing me out. He understands. At a BVAU (Boston Visual Artists Union) meeting I connect with 5 other artists who have found some studio space at Fort Point. This is an industrial area in Boston that has a lot of vacant manufacturing space built around the turn of the century. It was like no-man's-land in the late 1970's and early '80's and the original owners, The Boston Wharf Company, were renting whole floors to artists. Thousands of feet of space with high ceilings and huge windows overlooking the channel to Boston Harbor were being rented for a song. Of course they were just shells with no insulation, some heat or too much heat, freight elevators and that's about it. They invited me to come see the space, they needed one more person in on the deal to make it work. It was an entire floor on the fifth floor at 215 "A" street. This is right near where Boston's "Big Dig" is today. I had never ridden in a freight elevator before. It clanked and groaned as the ropes and pulleys hauled us up. It was a little scary. I step out into the space. It is so huge, so open, so empty it takes my breath away. This is unchartered territory. I can begin something new right here. I sign on.
We figure we can divide the space into 6 studios, but we will have to build the walls ourselves. Any improvements on the individual spaces will have to be done by the occupant. Plumbing is a problem. I didn't know a thing about this stuff, I had to trust my partners, all guys, two worked in construction. We only have plumbing and bathroom facilities at one end of the space. Not my end. Turns out, to extend plumbing and have running water in all the spaces was way beyond our means. We would all have to share one big industrial sized sink, one bathtub with a jury-rigged shower and two toilets, all for 6 people, their partners, lovers and friends. Now these spaces were not zoned as "live-work" spaces, but almost everybody lived in their studios and Boston Wharf company closed their eyes and collected the rents. We started building the walls right after signing the lease. I would be working there late in the evenings. Pete knew we were doing the work ourselves. He had no idea I planned to move in as soon as it was finished.
