I've notched up a considerable sleep deficit on this trip, having rarely been able to get to sleep before one, and usually waking up during the night to toss and turn. Surprisingly, it hasn't seemed to have affected my energy levels at all, and I've rarely felt seriously fatigued on this trip. Last night, once again, I slept poorly, despite my avowed intent to sleep in this morning. I was still awake at 1.30, after two melatonin, a gin and tonic and half a bottle of wine. (I don't normally resort to alcohol to get to sleep but there was a tempting minibar in my room at the posh hotel in which I was staying.) I did get to sleep shortly thereafter, only to wake, finally, around 5.30.

I don't quite fit in the bathtub, but it seemed the thing to do.

After my bath, I was out and about before 8.00, heading up to the top of Mt Greylock, Massachusett's tallest mountain, which overlooks North Adams. It was still humid, though the sun hadn't burned off the haze as yet. I had the only car on the whole, long road up the mountain (which tops out at 3491 feet), and, at the top, I had the summit to myself.

Sitting in front of the noble granite tower, on the summit, which memorializes Massachusetts dead from the First World War

It was too hazy to take good photographs of the mountainscape around me, so I took this shot of one of the many mountain flowers that bloom in the sub-alpine climate, set against the distant backdrop.

Near the base of the mountain, there was a beautiful lake, again, deserted.

By nine-thirty, I was on the road out of North Adams. It was lovely to be in mountain scenery. The grey/blue mountains in every direction, under cloudy skies, reminded me nostalgically of the English Lake District, one of my favorite places.

Not far North of North Adams, is another cultural town, Williamstown, home to Williams College, and the Sterling and Francine Clark Art Institute. It has to be one of the most beautiful college towns in America. When I fantasize about living in the Berkshires, Williamstown is where I'd be. Beautiful countryside, great art, good cafes, and cute students to look at. The Clark Art Institute is in beautifully landscaped grounds, and has a varied collection of European and American art, including some quite good impressionists (though I wasn't keen on Renoir's porno bathers), and a lot of good paintings by Winslow Homer and Alfred Stevens. They also had a wonderful exhibition of landscapes by Klimt. I've never liked Klimt, but then, I'd never seen his landscapes before. They were so peaceful to look at; escapist. I learnt another useful German word that's been used to describe this effect: "stimmung", which means atmosphere, mood, or state of mind.

One of the Renoirs in the Clark Art Institute

The place has the most attentive (read that as "busy-body") attendants of any museum I've been to. When I entered the gallery, my bottle of water was confiscated. Next to go was my pen ("in case it explodes and scatters ink everywhere"). Finally, I was admonished to carry my camera bag on my front, rather than my back, to minimize the chance of accidentally knocking the head of a statue, I can only presume.

On the portico of the older of the two buildings of of the Clark Art Institute

But it was time to get going, since I had a lunch date down route 7, half way down the West edge of Massachusetts, for 1.00. The first part of the drive down route 7 is gorgeous, with open mountain views and meadows. I decided that this quick two-day journey through Massachusetts has been the highlight of my trip; a gulp of fresh air.

Enjoying the mountain scenery off Route 7

But then, finally meeting Meg was another highlight. I first started to correspond with Meg when she send me some artworks she'd made by working on some of my homoerotic self portraits. They were beautifully done, with such a variety of techniques, and such good use of color. I was surprised to learn that Meg was a happily married grandmother living near Lake Placid, in the Adirondacks. As we exchanged emails, I really enjoyed our discussions about art, and she's been an important inspiration to me try new things. In particular, she's been very supportive and encouraging about my film-making. It was great to finally meet her, at the Red Lion Inn in Stockbridge, and we nattered happily away about art for two hours. I found that she and I work in very different ways. For Meg, it's her self-belief and optimism about her own work that motivates her to keep trying new things. With me, it's almost completely the reverse; it's my self-doubt that challenges me to keep getting better.

Mood Golden. One of Meg's pieces, based on a photo of me.

Meg and me at the Red Lion Inn, Stockbridge