tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54077202011-07-19T14:37:48.784-05:00Grandmothers, daughters and granddaughters talking.Ritchienoreply@blogger.comBlogger441100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1057815888542074812003-07-10T00:44:00.000-05:002003-07-10T00:44:48.463-05:00

MR. BIG, Sex and Lies continued... Money was never an issue in my life. I don't worry about it. When I have some I spend it. I'm not a saver or a planner but I do trust in my ability to make a living no matter what. So now it's 1981. I had my job at the Art Institute about a year. It provides some security, but the salary is still pretty meager. My sexual/artistic relationship with Robin was

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1057815714942755482003-07-10T00:41:00.000-05:002003-07-10T00:41:54.876-05:00

TWO TIMING GLAD HANDERS, Sex and Lies continued... Bill told me how he discovered his wife's affair. It made me think he was a little slow on the up-take, but after some reflection I realized people see what they want to see in a relationship and they will deny the obvious if it doesn't suit their own purposes. Bill was a good guy. Not the same type of good guy as Pete, but still a person who

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1057451312535403892003-07-05T19:28:00.000-05:002003-07-05T20:07:00.500-05:00

GETTING MY STUFF, Sex and Lies continued... Acquiring things never held much interest for either of us. There were no arguments about who gets to take the stereo. The house was the only material thing of any value that we owned in common. We had the usual things most people have; TV, a car, and the random accumulation of ten years of marriage. There was the incredible doll house that Pete and I

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1057451261531393482003-07-05T19:27:00.000-05:002003-07-05T19:27:41.513-05:00

CHASING ERIKA, Sex and Lies continued... Erika was ten. Young enough to be a child, old enough to worry. She had been an effortless baby. She never hampered my life style because I took her everywhere. I never gave it a second thought. Initially, when she was very tiny, I carried her in front in a sling type affair that many women in third world countries used. They became popular in the USA in

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1057451172300929122003-07-05T19:26:00.000-05:002003-07-05T19:26:12.280-05:00

THE FINAL ESCAPE, Sex and Lies continued... Stalking had not been anticipated. I thought Pete was just too laid back or that he simply no longer had the energy for such behavior. At this point I figured he'd be glad to be rid of me. The telephone calls started coming at work. It was the first time in my life I'd had a secretary and I was concerned about her. What could she be thinking? He sent

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1057451097323070972003-07-05T19:24:00.000-05:002003-07-05T19:24:57.316-05:00

BILL IN THE PICTURE, Sex and Lies continued... The Art Institute was a great place to work. It was a small school with an excellent faculty of practicing artists who did professionally what they taught in the classroom. The school's reputation was built on the high quality of it's commercial art program; graphic design, illustration, photography, but they were also building a solid fine arts,

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1057450970032897182003-07-05T19:22:00.000-05:002003-07-05T19:22:50.030-05:00

FINANCIAL INDEPENDENCE, Sex and Lies continued... Teaching a few adult ed. courses and selling a painting once every six months would not earn me a living wage. I had to hustle my butt and look for what my parents would call "A real job". I was spending most of my time in my new studio, but I was still technically living at home. Pete continues to think this is all temporary. Divorce was

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1057450879836130742003-07-05T19:21:00.000-05:002003-07-05T19:21:19.846-05:00

FULL BODY CAST, Sex and Lies continued... The artist/model relationship developed slowly. I asked if I could bring Erika with me that first time he wanted to use my feet as a model for a stone piece he was carving. He agreed, so late one afternoon she and I went over to his Melcher Street studio. It would have been difficult for him to use a life model in the traditional way artists use models

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1057450748776768062003-07-05T19:19:00.000-05:002003-07-05T19:19:08.780-05:00

TELLING ERIKA, Sex and Lies continued... We stayed together for the children's sake might be my mother's explanation for her life but it wouldn't be mine. The only thing that caused me anguish was Erika. She was ten years old. She was a beautiful child, a trouble free child who had brought Pete and I great joy. I spent many hours rationalizing my behavior so I could move on the decision I had

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1057450620016337882003-07-05T19:17:00.000-05:002003-07-05T19:17:00.040-05:00

DRIVEN BY DESIRE, Sex and Lies continued... A relentless desire to be with him propelled me through my days. At 14 I'd become sexually active and had had a wide range of experiences until I married Pete. Once I was married I believed I was married and managed to be faithful and true and all that - whatever (but like Jimmy Carter said "I had lust in my heart"). Meeting Robin was like a nuclear

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1057450491375132422003-07-05T19:14:00.000-05:002003-07-05T19:14:51.396-05:00

MEETING THE FAMILY, Sex and Lies continued... On that first night I neglected to tell him I was married. In my head I was no longer married but tell that to the judge. The next day I took Erika to work with me. The Gallery was between exhibitions, so the entire space was empty before the next bunch of artists came in to hang their work. I let Erika (who had recently turned 10) bring her new

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1057450315984860282003-07-05T19:11:00.000-05:002003-07-05T19:11:56.023-05:00

OUT OF BODY EXPERIENCE, Sex and Lies continued... Guilt was a new feeling for me and I didn't like it. I snuck into the house that first night and Pete was already in bed. My 10 year old daughter was asleep in her room. I shower and slink into bed with Pete. In this moment I know I have betrayed our marriage in a way that is irretrievable. Pete knows I am moving into this art studio at Fort

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1057450213823968132003-07-05T19:10:00.000-05:002003-07-05T19:10:13.870-05:00

KNOWING WHEN IT'S OVER, Sex and Lies continued... 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 would work" he says. He explains he is trying

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1056170073048268492003-06-20T23:34:00.000-05:002003-06-20T23:34:33.020-05:00

Can I help you?, Sex and Lies continues... Tuesday, June 17, 2003 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 know in that moment exactly

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1056169919254337572003-06-20T23:31:00.001-05:002003-06-20T23:31:59.230-05:00

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

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1056169863222260982003-06-20T23:31:00.000-05:002003-06-20T23:31:03.206-05:00

WHEN WORLDS COLLIDE, Sex and Lies continued... Sunday, June 15, 2003 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 when I worked. Since meeting

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1056169751736104532003-06-20T23:29:00.000-05:002003-06-20T23:29:11.720-05:00

GOING HUNTING, Sex and Lies continued... Saturday, June 14, 2003 We were driving from Boston to New Jersey. Pete had the rifle in the back of the van. It was Thanksgiving and deer season in Jersey. At the time, my folks lived on the side of a gravel road in Mine Hill. There was a dense wooded area behind the house. My dad never went hunting as far as I know, but when he met Pete his

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1056169688646292172003-06-20T23:28:00.000-05:002003-06-20T23:28:08.646-05:00

MOTHERLOAD, my last post was a bummer... Friday, June 13, 2003 Writing about my mother was worse than living with her. How to say something about that relationship that has some truth, some balance, without having ulterior motives. I do not love her. To try to tell why is a snake pit of twisted experience and convoluted thoughts. Feelings of hatred would often cloud my vision, but that's a

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1056169614934933492003-06-20T23:26:00.001-05:002003-06-20T23:26:54.933-05:00

BOYS AND THEIR TOYS, Sex and Lies continued... Thursday, June 12, 2003 My Dad always satisfied his desires. No matter what the families financial situation was he always managed to buy himself a new car every two or three years. Mom and I would never know when he would pull in the drive with the next best thing. I used to wonder about the money. It was a forbidden topic. Once when I was a

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1056169591918137582003-06-20T23:26:00.000-05:002003-06-20T23:26:31.913-05:00

Thursday, June 12, 2003 BOYS AND THEIR TOYS, Sex and Lies continued... Thursday, June 12, 2003 My Dad always satisfied his desires. No matter what the families financial situation was he always managed to buy himself a new car every two or three years. Mom and I would never know when he would pull in the drive with the next best thing. I used to wonder about the money. It was a forbidden

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1056169508877851252003-06-20T23:25:00.000-05:002003-06-20T23:25:08.886-05:00

STUCK ON THE STAIRCASE, Sex and Lies continued... Wednesday, June 11, 2003 The dream house needed work. It's like getting to know a new lover. In the first 5 seconds of the encounter there is the zap that tells you whether or not this is worth pursuing. If the feelings are consumated, then the real work of building something begins. We invested everything we had in that house. Before moving in

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1056169384290276502003-06-20T23:23:00.000-05:002003-06-20T23:23:04.303-05:00

DREAM HOUSE, Sex and Lies continued... Tuesday, June 10, 2003 My family moved frequently and I never knew why. It would always go something like this. Dad would find a plot of land somewhere in northern New Jersey. Once he found the spot, he'd take us to see it. Not that we had any say in the process. Then he would pick some stock house plan - not a prefab - just some standard plan, in one

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1056169291245306972003-06-20T23:21:00.000-05:002003-06-20T23:21:31.260-05:00

ART IN THE TOILET, Sex and Lies continued... Monday, June 09, 2003 Before marrying Pete, during my undergrad years in Art school, I worked as a waitress at the M.I.T. Faculty Club. It was on the top floor of the Sloan School of Business. I enjoyed waitressing. Especially in the rarified air of that dining room. Lots of Nobel Prize winners, scientists and engineers working on the first space

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1056169197222515982003-06-20T23:19:00.000-05:002003-06-20T23:19:57.243-05:00

JUMPING THE SHARK, Sex and Lies continued... Sunday, June 08, 2003 Pete was an Olympian but he never really competed, he was a natural. He had the body of a runner and could turn the speed on and off. He would win at tennis and squash without working up a sweat and looked good while doing it. He was loose. He always had a beer in his hand. We left our M.I.T. Eastgate apartment when Erika was

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1056169110634577332003-06-20T23:18:00.000-05:002003-06-20T23:18:30.670-05:00

CAMPING OUT, Sex and Lies continued... Saturday, June 07, 2003 Hopping in the Winnebago, driving to the nearest recreational area to hook up to the electric and hot water was not Pete's idea of camping. He loved the outdoors and the closer he could get to it the better. He especially liked to bring the kids. Pete was an ex-marine among other things and I had to remind myself that his survival

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1056169038770863782003-06-20T23:17:00.000-05:002003-06-20T23:17:18.830-05:00

HAVING BREASTS, Sex and Lies continued... Friday, June 06, 2003 Being pregnant had some pleasant side effects. I had breasts. Not that I didn't have breasts, it's just that they were relatively inconsequential. Early on I learned to make the most of what I had. My rib cage is rather high and prominent. At puberty I practiced in front of a mirror and saw that if I stood-up really straight,

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1056168926280560312003-06-20T23:15:00.000-05:002003-06-20T23:15:26.326-05:00

COOKING WITH MARTHA, a diversion from Sex and Lies... Thursday, June 05, 2003 Women lost a couple of big rounds today as all those stupid white men continue to try to drag us back to 1950, or in my case with abortion trials and tribulations, 1969. I never thought it was possible that we could loose so much ground in so short a time - mind boggling. But I'll bet you dollars to donuts if some

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1056168835504261982003-06-20T23:13:00.000-05:002003-06-20T23:13:55.546-05:00

BABY I'M YOURS, Sex and Lies continued... Wednesday, June 04, 2003 My diaphragm and I never got along. It sure put a crimp in my style. I used it consistantly, I swear - even though the thing would slip out of my fingers and boomerang around the bathroom. Sometimes it would take me so long to get the thing in place (or so I thought) Pete would be sound asleep. Hence my surprise when they told

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1056168699439095362003-06-20T23:11:00.000-05:002003-06-20T23:11:39.573-05:00

THE BRAIN TUMOR, Sex and Lies continued... Tuesday, June 03, 2003 It had only been a few months since the abortion. I wasn't feeling well. I ignored the symptoms,there was too much going on. I was fighting jealousy problems, internally fighting them, over Pete's relationship with the kids. They were sweet kids. Good kids. A little confused, like everyone else trying to figure out where they

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1055322799923045772003-06-11T04:13:00.000-05:002003-06-11T04:13:19.286-05:00

A WALK ON THE MOON, Sex and Lies continued... Monday, June 02, 2003 The motel was not far from the Justice of the Peace. It was so nondescript I can't remember a thing about it. Our honeymoon, we spent the night there. The next morning I feel the urge to call my folks and tell them. It was a sense of duty that compelled me. It's the minimum I could do. We are still in bed. I fumble for the

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1055322662305517832003-06-11T04:11:00.000-05:002003-06-11T04:11:01.710-05:00

FEAR GETS THE BEST OF ME, Sex and Lies continued... Sunday, June 01, 2003 We meet for dinner, Igo's on Mass.Ave. I'm struck by his vulnerability. He is sheepish. We talk for hours. He doesn't want to pressure me. (Just the fact that I'm there, I knew what was coming). He loves me. What next? At least we make another date. This goes on. He shows me his apartment. There is nothing in it, some

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1055322503989422362003-06-11T04:08:00.000-05:002003-06-11T04:08:26.943-05:00

PARIETAL RULES Saturday, May 31, 2003 I'd stolen my freedom at 14 so by the time I went off to college I took that freedom for granted. Was I in for a rude awakening. In September 1963 my mom and dad helped me pack up the family station wagon and my dad drove us to Boston. Dad hated Boston immediately. He drove across the Mystic River Bridge 3 times thinking it was a different bridge each time

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1055322331900519602003-06-11T04:05:00.000-05:002003-06-11T04:05:31.350-05:00

FAMILY SECRETS Friday, May 30, 2003 My father's father committed suicide when my father was 14. His family had immigrated to this country from Denmark. That's all I know about it. That I know about it at all is accidental. I overheard a hushed phonecall. My mother was talking to someone. From what I could discern my mother implied that there might be a hereditary factor. It frightened me. I

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1055322226897566582003-06-11T04:03:00.000-05:002003-06-11T04:03:46.350-05:00

SIP AND SUP Thursday, May 29, 2003 The work ethic runs through my family with a vengence. Nothing is given, everything must be "earned". My dad was always "at work". When he did finally come home some nights for dinner, if he talked at all, he talked about work. Transmissions gone bad, leaky gas tanks, over heated radiators, my dad was an auto mechanic. I tried to act interested, I wanted to

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1055322127803017222003-06-11T04:02:00.000-05:002003-06-11T04:02:07.286-05:00

A DEATH IN THE FAMILY Wednesday, May 28, 2003 It was my 14th birthday. Mom had fixed a big meal and the whole family was sitting around the living room trying to digest it. The TV was on in the corner and I was sitting at my Great Grandma Cook's feet. She was a sweet woman who still looked damn good for almost 90. My back was resting against her legs. There was a pleasant buzz of conversation

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1055322020146495532003-06-11T04:00:00.000-05:002003-06-11T04:00:45.583-05:00

LEARNING TO RUN Tuesday, May 27, 2003 Exercise was something no one in my family ever did. Dad was always at work (or so we thought). My mother thought ironing the sheets was strenuous enough. She thought listening to the Brooklyn Dodgers games on the radio in the summer was sport. My little brother was slightly overweight and very shy. My dad never played ball or anything with him, he had no

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1055321876189090322003-06-11T03:57:00.000-05:002003-06-11T03:57:55.710-05:00

GRANDMA AT MOMA Monday, May 26, 2003 Being born on Picasso's birthday, October 25th, always seemed like an omen to me. I started copying Degas when I was 12. My parents didn't discourage me. As long as it was a "hobby". My mom enrolled me in things like weekend ceramics classes. She came along and liked to select the premade but unpainted figurines and greenware. She picked the glazes herself

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1055321716715168972003-06-11T03:55:00.000-05:002003-06-11T03:55:16.256-05:00

FIRST SEX Sunday, May 25, 2003 At 14 I'd won the battle of control with my parents. I'd exhausted them. School had been my sanctuary, so while my parents bemoaned my behavior, they had no quarrel with my academic achievements. I'd been on those hormone pills to bring my period back just a few months when my personal research revealed that these were actually birth control pills. EUREKA! No

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1055321547110744702003-06-11T03:52:00.000-05:002003-06-11T03:53:03.036-05:00

FAMILY VALUES Saturday, May 24, 2003 Just saw Rudi Giuliani with his giggling 3rd bride on the nightly news - a great guy for sure and definitely a family values kind of guy. (As a native New Yorker I do admire Rudi but he can shed the family values thingy). Then we have the next really great family values guy, Rush Limbaugh, also on his 3rd wife, (I don't follow this too closely so it

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1055321393002258562003-06-11T03:49:00.000-05:002003-06-11T03:49:52.583-05:00

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1055064743788054032003-06-08T04:32:00.000-05:002003-06-08T04:32:23.610-05:00

BEING A BLOGGER Thursday, May 22, 2003 I finally "got it" about blogging. First thing I asked him upon coming home from work was if anyone had read my posts. We went to look and he explained that I had signed up for the free version and if I wanted to have people comment I would have to switch to a paid account. An image of the millions of bloggers out there reading and writing and commenting

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1053515644379335462003-05-21T06:14:00.000-05:002003-05-21T06:14:03.823-05:00

Last night we watched the second half of Hitler: Rise of Evil. I'm overwhelmed by the parallels between Hitler and the Bush administration. When Hitler said "we will use the Democratic government to gain power and then we will dismantel it" I felt stung, panicked. The intimidation of anyone who dares to speakout (Michael Moore, and the Dixie Chicks take cover), the takeover of the media, but the

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1053429232077789972003-05-20T06:13:00.000-05:002003-05-20T06:13:52.050-05:00

He left the blogger posting screen up on his computer this morning. Last night he asked if I wanted to post anything. He's my facilitator in things creative. I wanted to go running in Danehy Park, it was a beautiful evening. Some slight resistance on his part, not much, it is a game between us. After so many years it is still this subtle tension that keeps the relationship alive. I'll have to

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5407720.post-1053304133717838372003-05-18T19:28:00.000-05:002003-05-18T19:28:54.460-05:00

He said my first post should be done when I'm drunk. Reminds me of of 20+ years ago when he put a lined note pad (with a Harvard U. logo on the cover) and a pen in my hand and said "write", or the day in my studio (after a very satisfying evening) when he asked why I never use green in my paintings. So now I'm a grandmother, then I was a mother, and the daughter part of me causes me the most

Ritchienoreply@blogger.com0