After the art group disbanded, I was accepted into the program at Pace University for people who'd lost their jobs because of 9/11. It was a stretch to include me, but my being treated for PTSD and the murky meltdown that led to my unemployment made me eligible. It met Monday through Friday from 8 to 5, just like a job, and we worked our butts off. Most of my classmates were in the towers that morning, or were on their way in and watched it like I did. We weren't allowed to discuss the event without one of the therapists who came twice a week for what were supposed to group sessions. Since the sessions were voluntary, only a handful of us showed up. Those who needed it most couldn't handle it. Too tired during the week, I did a series of very tiny paintings, like the 6" x 8" piece above, little Goldie, on my days off.