I’m orange, he’s blue. Oof.
A quick hello from the MacDowell Colony, where I’ll be holed up for the next month taking stupid Instagram photos of icicles and writing. No Facebook, no Twitter, no Pornography — so thank god I committed all of those clips to visual memory. The scenery is incredible, the food amazing, the people very kind. I’m doing lots of napping and putting papers into piles and running through the dark woods back to my studio in sheer terror every night after dinner. There’s also a grand piano in my studio, so I’ve been trying to play Puccini from a book someone left behind and it’s not going well. I’ll see you in a month — and if any water-cooler moments are happening in gay porn right now, please email me a link for later.
ISAAC: OK, that’s one ticket for tonight in Row C, seat 109. It’ll be $75 total.
MAN: That’s all?
ISAAC: Ha, I know, right?
MAN: Why so cheap?
ISAAC: Seventy-five dollars.
MAN: Yeah. Why so cheap?
ISAAC: Oh, are you serious?
ISAAC: Oh, well, it’s off-Broadway, so –
ISAAC: – it’s a little less than Broadway –
MAN: I’m just surprised; that’s a bargain.
ISAAC: You think?
MAN: Don’t you?
ISAAC: Well, no, but clearly we need to hang out.