(Clicking on the photos shows them full size)
Communes were very different in the Seventies in Boston from the Sixties concept of Drugs, Sex and Rock and Roll. Oh, a few people smoked pot here and there, but it wasn't mainstream and not as a group. Communes had by then become experiments in alternative living and were taken seriously as such. The people living in them were older and had jobs. They were stimulating to be with, being fellow seekers.
I lived in a commune of eight people for six months, then moved to a smaller one. This shot is fuzzy, taken with no flash, no tripod, and no light. I'm the only one dressed in the photo, to the far left:-) Different communes had different feelings about nudity. The two women living here felt comfortable going to and from their baths nude, the one guy in his skivies, the others in robes. In the second commune, a woman who posed as a model at the art school at B.U. often wore just a sarong under huge swaying breasts. I admit my modesty. My nudity is reserved for the bath and other private occasions. When we did the nude male calendar, one of our models lived in a huge commune where nudity was also taken for granted--except with Jack. His female love (she was 40, he was 45 and dropping out of the business world) saw his being a model as one way to overcome this, so we posed him all over the commune one Saturday morning, as other members came and went, with no more than a casual, 'hi Jack'.:-)
This photo was after the move to the second commune and was taken before leaving for the People's Revolutionary March in Concord, Massachusetts. We weren't marching against the Vets. We were marching to bring our boys home. Ford was now in office and would be in Concord the next day. The night before the confrontation with Ford, we camped,thousands of us--the six of us lying like sardines sideways in a two man tent. There was a big concert in the hills that night, too. Phil Ochs sang 'I'm Not Marching Anymore', one of his last concerts before his tragic suicide. Other singers I no longer remember. I'm not in this photo. The man to the far right was the love of my lifetime(or so I thought at the time) and commune mate for 3 1/2 years before we left on our boat trip.
In the communal main living area with friends in for a meal. Two were Psychology Interns from the VA where I worked outside of Boston. The woman with blonde hair pulled back was the intern I supervised, now in private practice outside of Boston. This was Mexican meal night. We all chipped in with the cooking and created a feast. I took the photo.
Two other commune mates, Eva and Vortek. We'd taken our 22 foot sailboat out to one of the islands off of Boston Harbor. That's Boston in the background. Eva had escaped Poland right before the Communist takeover, leaving behind the man she was in love with. He was one of the Resistance leaders and couldn't leave. Vortek was in love with Eva and so he escaped and came to be with her while she was still living in Manhatten. They eventually grew to love each other, but I was always convinced her heart still belonged to the man in Poland. Eva was going for her graduate degree at Harvard and Vortek worked as a foreign car repairman.
What can I say??:) The type of clothes often seen. This guy was over helping us make paper ornaments for the Christmas tree that year.
And, finally, a trip up to the Berkshires for the Boston Symphony Concert and camping with R, my then love.
This is me, cleaned up and hair curled, at a party with several of my work colleagues, two other Psychologists at the VA and a female intern. It was interesting being part 'hippie' by night and weekend and hard-working normal looking psychologist by day. Everyone at the VA knew I lived in a commune. No secret. It bothered a couple of the older, conservative nurses at first until they got to know me, then it was no big deal to anyone.
C'est la vie!