bb does Spring Semester of Grad School (part 1)

Top 40 Things from the First Half of the Spring Semester

  1. Moving to Dover. The house is a beautiful old cavern with huge windows covered in plastic to keep out the cold. My room is at the front and my headboard is a boarded up brick fireplace. I make things while looking out the window and listening to music. I can walk to two coffee shops and a few bars. The river goes through the center of town, and there is a bus I can take to school. A lumpy mill town, teaming with hipsters.
  2. Very cold rain.
  3. There is a night when Theo and Sam and I go out and wander around Portsmouth. It is cold and I have on my black puffy. We see a bad band, and then go to another bar, and then to Gilly’s where we eat fries at the back.
  4. Petsitting in Sanbornton for a week. 1 chinook, 2 cross breeds, 1 spunky cat, multiple chickens.
  5. Cancelled plans.
  6. Writing on the typewriter to Ugly Cassanova.
  7. Writing to you.
  8. Writing for me.
  9. Getting picked up by the guys in the truck while walking on the side of the dirt road
  10. Driver gives me his number and texts me a lot about the road conditions
  11. Sam and I running around the property and exploring the workshop near midnight, the chinook jumps in the boat and becomes captain of the sinking ship
  12. Tilton Diner, waitress tries to serenade me but I don’t notice and she gets offended, throws two tootsie rolls at me and also gets mad at Sam for talking about her
  13. Henna hands
  14. Telling the story of my bike trip at the Book and Bar. How it takes two beers and a cigarette to get it out of me. Hello world, I am here, speaking. I like the sound of my own voice when it is this loud.
  15. Chaos moon, full moon.
  16. Flirting.
  17. Hiding in a dead car at the side of the bypass, crying
  18. Riding to the car garage with the tow truck guy who’s ringtone was David Archuleta’s “Save the Day”
  19. FINALLY, I get my period.
  20. I learn how to take the bus to school. The first time I blow past the driver and everyone stares, then I realize I’m supposed to show him my student ID and so I rush back to the front and flash it. Back to my seat, headphones on and shrugging my coat off.
  21. Mom, Ana and I go to the Peabody Essex Museum. Georgia O’Keefe’s fashion and her art is on display. We love it and Ana takes a photo of every single piece of art in the museum šŸ˜€ We watch a guy painting a buffalo burger and I ask him questions while Ana gets embarrassed and mom films us with her phone from across the room.
  22. Weekend passes. Homework in a coffee shop.
  23. Learning my car will cost 2,000 to fix.
  24. A call two days later. My car will cost 3,500 to fix.
  25. More crying by the pond in Durham.
  26. Transferring money into my checking account. Phone calls and confirmations. Waiting.
  27. Giant Nor’easter hits and we lose power for the morning. School’s cancelled and the world stops.
  28. Looking for new cars online.
  29. Setting parameters and casting spells. Money is sexually attracted to me. I love money.
  30. Buying a new car at the Honda dealership where they have a used Fit that used to be owned by the woman who owns the Green Elephant in Portsmouth. I sense good karma or something like that. There is also a bulldog name Charley who I can pet while the saleslady figures out where I can finance my purchase. Charley’s owner tells me she is known for frog legs and being a clown.
  31. First thing I do is drive to the ocean and draw, get out of the car and walk along the shore. The waves are massive and the sea is greener than the sky which is a pale gray flecked with lighter gray clouds.
  32. Forty things is hard. Maybe twenty is sufficient.
  33. Petsitting in Northwood. Pepper the cat and Pepper the dog are battling and I think the dog is winning because she’s take Pepper the cat’s couch cushion and Pepper the cat is giving her an evil glare from the floor.
  34. Reading Lynda Barry.
  35. Reading Jeanette Winterson.
  36. Reading Alison Bechdel.
  37. Reading Annie Dillard.
  38. Carrying around a tiny notebook to document images from the day while the day is happening.
  39. Visiting a cafe in Trashua and trying to find the abandoned town while listening to emo rap. Sam and I see so many ghosts on the road but they’ve moved the town before we can find it. We turn back home.
  40. Lunch with Dad in Laconia. Cafe table filled with car purchasing documents. Thinking how lucky I am to have someone to help sift through them šŸ™‚



First Cold Rain


Warm weather flicker

sent me

where the rain met my skin,

motherĀ kisses

her last daughter goodbye,

bittersweet wine

on my lips

soĀ last night

a thrill spilling


Fingers flowing electric

out to dance

and remember

the center.

Today after lunch

a bouquet

arrived at my door.



The mountains echo with heartbeats

sound so high
tone too steep
cry of cliff
echo of awe
The poem above was submitted to the zine by Matt Soza of Laconia, New Hampshire. It’s simple and poignent words are accompanied by Matt Lanoue’s photographs of Gilford, New Hampshire. Lanoue wrote described hisĀ photographs to me in an email: “The first is a picture of Kimball Castle. The mountains here tell the story of New Hampshire history. One simply has to stop and listen.Ā The second is a waterfall taken on the top of a mountain. It’s sound is the heartbeat of the mountain. A rhythm few people ever hear.”

The mountains sound like silence

The mountains sound like
Carabiners clinking on metal pots and zippers
Jolly rancher wrappers being scrunched into some tiny pocket
Metal cables creaking as the bear bag is pulled high into the air
Water rushing downhill over rocks
Leaves crunching underfoot
And occasional silence that makes the sounds and thoughts in your head become silent too.
Above is a poem submitted from Emma Koeppel, a Beloit College student, Wisconsinite, and native landscaper. The photo is of Mikayla Clarke, (sister, hiker and New Hampshire Native) on the Appalachian Trail during her thru-hike this spring/summer.

The mountains are filled with snarky AMC vehicles

Here’s an ode to the trucks of AMC’s undercover operations. The average visitor to Pinkham Notch doesn’t think about how their postcards get to the post office or all their recycling gets to the dump.Ā And oftentimes, theĀ average employee doesn’t either!Ā Looking back on this cartoon I drew mid-summer, I realize how snarkyĀ these vehicles were, probably from such heavy use! There were many days when our entire fleet was out on the road and the parking lot lay empty. These days, as trips wind down and people migrate back to their “real lives” in “society” (i.e. Boston, New York, generic suburbs around the world), the Storehouse parking lot is full again.

2015-09-02 14.58.14 HDR