Boston-Bound

This afternoon I board a plane for a very short flight over to the land of clam chowder. This might seem strange to you, given that my immediate reaction to spending a week deepening my understanding of brand and design and nurturing the creative capacity of my team is overshadowed by a bowl of creamy soup, but for real:

My inner foodie is having a mini freakout. It’s chanting:

CLAM CHOWDER. LOBSTER ROLL. CLAM CHOWDER. LOBSTER ROLL. OYSTERS. OYSTERS. IN. MY. FACE.

Boston-Bound

So I’m travelling for a week to go to How Live, which is a design conference for creative professionals who want to learn from the very best. A few of my favourites are presenting, and I’m really looking forward to the whole thing since I skipped SXSW this year and my idea-tank is starting to sound like it’s giving off a death rattle. It’s good to regroup, get inspired, and come back to work refreshed.

Let’s shove all of that design stuff to the side for a second, because there is downtime from the conference, and downtime feeds the muse — especially when the muse is a bloodthirsty critter that sustains itself on local folklore, hauntings, and ghost tours of any given city.

Boston is rife with the old dark stuff, so naturally, I’ve done my homework.

This week, while I’m romping around Old Granary Burial Ground, walking the Freedom Trail, and visiting the birthplace of Edgar Allen Poe (which technically no longer exists — there’s only a commemorative plaque), I would like make offerings for those of you on the other side of the web.

I’ve built a collection of posts surrounding Boston lore, launching everyday this week. A little dark present delivered to your inbox, should you like to subscribe:

What to expect, in no particular order:

The Spirit Photography of William H. Mumler

The Spirits that Haunt the Common, the Emerson Cutler Magestic Theatre, The Charlesgate Hotel, and Boylston Street

Graveyards of Boston: Featuring the old school, puritanical, Memento Mori style artwork of New England

The Man Himself, Mr. Edgar Allan Poe

A Little Bit of that old Black Magic courtesy of Nathaniel Hawthorne

Lots of clam chowder will be consumed. You can follow my adventures on Twitter or Instagram too: I promise many snaps of food and gravestones. (Sometimes together.)

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A post shared by K. B. Frazier (@kirabutlerfrazier)

Header Image: crossbones by Nancy L. Stockdale, on Flickr