Archi-têtes (July 1989) is from Jeff, a grad school colleague and (still) friend. It’s a drawing by Michael Graves. Jeff says, “Thanks for a fabulous evening, dinner, and performance of Pygmalion — do you really think they done her in for the hat?” I don’t have any memory of this. Jeff signed for himself and his then-partner Nick. Jeff’s now married to Alan and lives in London, Nick lives with Carlos in Boerum Hill, and we all celebrated Jeff’s birthday last month in Tribeca. The water lily (Lutcher-Moore Swamp, St. James Parish, Lutcher, Louisiana, August 1989) is from my freshman-year college roommate Pamela. Pam was fiercely driven; she graduated early and had her MA a week before I had my BA. She’s a scholar of the Reformation, with an early focus on Zwingli; she herself converted from Judaism. She says, “I am teaching a survey course and a . . . course called the Modern Experience. Lots of juicy 19c. stuff in the latter. For the former I will have to get a grip on the French Revolution, something I have managed to avoid until now. Keep in touch.” Pam and I haven’t spoken for probably two decades, but I was just thinking about her, maybe because I was up in New Haven this weekend. — Pause while I run a search. I don’t see a second book for Pam after her 1991 publication. It looks like she’s living in Berlin and working as a translator. My singing friend Anne is in Berlin translating this year; I’ll ask her if they have crossed paths. I went to Pam’s wedding at St Paul’s Chapel at Columbia; it appears she’s no longer married, at least not to the same person, as he’s in Pennsylvania with a different wife (and children). The collage is from a little later, 1996, the Rubberstamp Period. It’s from a woman I wrote about for Rubberstampmadness. And in a segue I hadn’t noticed, the camels with artichoke et al, are a holiday card from my college friend Remie, I suppose from the late 80s or early 90s as Remie says “I am writing chapters of my dissertation and job applications for positions in medieval history.” Remie and Alice and Tory and Nicole and I were all part of JEB’s gang of mini-medievalists; Remie and Tory both went on to history grad school; Tory quit ABD but Remie finished and went on to teach at Notre Dame. Remie died this past spring, and though I hadn’t been in touch except exiguously (thanks, John Summerson) for years, it still gives me pain to see her picture and birth and death dates on the card her husband Matthew sent me. The world is worse off without her in it.
FROM THE ARCHIVES, 4. Some cards.