Wednesday, June 15, 2005


The other day I wrote of my dream about the MacDowell Colony. Interestingly, today I received the quarterly magazine sent to all MacDowell fellows, of which I am one. I thought back to those happy times. The first four summers of my NYC life, I was fortunate to be given fellowships: two to MacDowell, then two to Yaddo. I returned again to Yaddo in winter of 1996. In summer 1996 I had a residency at the Ragdale Foundation. I have never gone to another colony again. Why? In 1992, while at Yaddo, I had one of my most severe depressions, one in which I was practically catatonic and paralyzed. It was terrifying. Then again, at Yaddo, in 1996, I plunged into another hideous depression. And at Ragdale, in August of that same year, I contracted hepatitis--although how remains a mystery--which became so severe after I returned to NYC (I, the ever-stoic, ignored my symptoms until I was hospitalized and came close to complete liver failure). Since those three strikes, I figure I am out, and I would be quite hesitant to go back. All the same, I look fondly on those experiences. I met some unforgettable artists, both famous and not famous, and made some amazing friends. It changed my life, giving me confidence and affirmation that I was a "real" composer. What happened?

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