One day I pawned my jewelry in order to eat. I received about $10. I dressed in a worn black suit and coat with a ruffed up black fur collar. On my feet were black suede boots with the heels worn to a nub. My hair hung unevenly straight because of my own cutting job. My skin was pale with little color but a bright red lipstick. I had become a bohemian. Yet, I was full of the art life of Paris. So there I was full of the magic of all the elegance, art, literature, street life and feeling of living in Paris. My whole persona was no longer American; I had turned into a mademoiselle. My whole mannerism was much softer and sensitive to life and beauty. I was not alone in Paris. My boyfriend was an oboist who drove a motorcycle around Paris with me hanging on. As we wove in and out of traffic with cars chasing after us, I’d scream. My oboist would yell, “Just don’t look back.” Then, I’d squeeze my eyes closed. He was a student of Nadia Boulanger, a famous music teacher. At Christmas he asked me to paint a Christmas card for all of Nadia’s students to give to her. I drew Nadia dressed as Santa Claus driving her sleigh over the rooftops of Paris. Sheet music flew from her sacks. I was so fearful that such a famous person would not like the card but John reported she liked it. By that time, Nadia was near 90 years and still guiding so many famous composers and performers who came from all over the world to her doorstep.