After so many years, I still have a soft spot for MIT. The initials always delight me in print. Whenever I remember my years there, and especially my doctoral studies from 1972 to 1975, I feel that I was rather lucky to spend so much time there. The Institute was a vibrant place, no doubt. And I was quite productive there, especially from 1983 to 1990, while I was teaching full time. I wrote a number of good papers, as well as a book I am still happy about. But I always have to remind myself that this was also the period when I was least productive in terms of writing for my own soul. Judging either in terms of the number of pieces or words written per year, I was in the doldrums. Back then I even wondered whether my Residua, started in mid-Seventies, was doomed. But soon after I left MIT my book started growing once again. By mid-Nineties it was blossoming. Now it is bearing fruit, as well. Where would I be without my book now? How would I survive without it? Perhaps most important, who would I be without my book? Anyhow, I know that this is not the first time I am returning to my love of MIT. This is not the first time I am reaching the same disparaging conclusions, either. To wit, I was lucky to leave the place when I did. But it is time to drive these conclusions home once and for all. Good riddance, MIT!

Addendum (February 22, 2021)

Coming across this particular piece of writing is always a joy, for I very much agree with its last words and its title. And yet, MIT keeps coming back to me in surprising ways. Most important, I am amazed by the number of dreams in which I am back at the Institute. And my witness is my collection of dreams, entitled I Dreamt, which can be found on my Ca’ Bon Gallery website (www.cabongallery.org). Each and every one of these dreams shows beyond any doubt that I remember MIT very like home. Whence the unending joy of returning to its endless corridors. Amazingly enough, there are no dreams of this ilk regarding any other place where I have spent sizable chunks of my life as a student, teacher, or researcher. The University of Belgrade, Harvard University, Urban Planning Institute of Slovenia, and the University of Reading pop up in my dreams rarely, if ever. The only reason for bringing this up at this point in time is that I know that my dreams are beyond my control. They come to me on their own, and I record them to the best of my ability, as well as truthfully. Nothing is added or subtracted from them for any reason whatsoever. It is thus far from surprising that I have a soft spot for the Institute after so many years. In my mind, it appears to be the place of dreams, no less. And this is how things are likely to remain till my last breath. Alleluia!