INSIDE this hick town, Barnaby, there's a slick town, Barnaby...

This past summer, I had the joy of calling a small town in the mountains of North Carolina my home. The town of Black Mountain was charming, with the local bar and the general store and the rich mountain landscape surrounding it. It was a little bit too quaint for many of our summer staff's tastes, and we would escape to nearby Asheville, which seemed a sprawling metropolis compared to Black Mountain. Even Swananoa was bigger.

Never once did I actually research the history of the place I was calling home.

I AM AN IDIOT.

Today in Experimental Music-Theatre, I learned that John Cage taught and worked at Black Mountain College. Yup. Same Black Mountain. John Cage has been a huge influence on my thoughts and work (and largely inspired the concept for my set for Tongues which I'm SO EXCITED ABOUT). Oh, and, in fact, John Cage staged his first happening at Black Mountain College, which included Merce Cunningham dancing and Robert Rauschenburg's paintings. I knew all of these people were friends, but the fact that this was centered IN BLACK MOUNTAIN completely did not penetrate my consciousness. Merce Cunningham Dance Company WAS FORMED IN BLACK MOUNTAIN. Willem de Kooning taught there. Black Mountain College no longer exists, but there's a Museum and Arts Center that completely passed me by, when all of these are artists that I'm terribly fascinated by and are a vital part my artistic history. I AM SUCH A LAZY UNAWARE IDIOT. I WILL NOW GO BANG MY HEAD ON THE DESK FOR FIVE MINUTES.

::headdesk::
::headdesk::
::headdesk::

(...don't worry, my head will be fine, I used to walk into poles on purpose.)

I'm used to living in an area with artistic history, living in New York. And Richmond has... you know... Poe. But BLACK MOUNTAIN?! REALLY?!

The next time I'm back there, mark my words... I'll do some intense research. I am enormously disappointed in myself. Curiosity, Colleen, really!