- Stature near Millay’s house | 2009 | Photo by Jen-Kuang Chang
Let the record show that we, half-dozen of creativity-high creatures assisted by Calliope, our fabulously fabulous residency director, writer, and sword-fighting expert, invaded the picturesque campus of Millay Colony for the Arts and colonized it with our brilliantly outlandish thoughts and laughter on August 2009 as indicated in the human being’s calendar. The colonization unfolded during that not-as-long-as-we-hoped month, circuitously spreading our pacific domination to Chatham, Art Omi, Mass MoCA, Great Barrington, Tanglewood, Hudson, and Stockbridge. Human beings, especially those with chocolate shops, seemed to greet us with hyper enthusiasm as I for one frequently needed to restock my dark chocolate bars collection to prolong my immunity from worldly strains and worries.
In addition to unpremeditatedly terrorizing Millay campus’s other affable creatures such as deer, wild turkeys, bunnies, and spirited B-U-G-s and M-I-S-Q-U-O-T-E-s, I spoiled myself and spent most of my day letting inaudible sweet songs replenishing my drained little being and occasionally guessing what deliciousness Chef Donna has prepared for us. Around 6:30 every evening, residents emerged from their own creativeness and congregated in the dining room, indulging themselves with warm and lovely conversations.
After dinner, we all sat together and stared at Sujin, our interdisciplinary artist, transfixed, while she furiously and indiscriminately writing down all the happenings and every juicy bit of daily details in the residency journal. Painter Giovanna would sit gracefully and unhurriedly tell us her enchanting encounter of a black bear’s ass, with painter Kirsten envied us by adding her storied happenstances with deer, mud, friendly neighbors, and all that magical things found only in the exquisite Poetry Trail. Poet Bruce would then make his trademarked Gin & Tonic and said to me “JK, you look like you need some cocktail” and soundlessly reciting Edna St. Vincent Millay’s poems into the dark and endless night sky.
Poet Bruce Snider reciting Millay's poem | August 2009 | Recorded by Jen-Kuang Chang












