Category: Uncategorized
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Sitting at a café in Montmartre as Jessye finally gets a break and writes a few postcards. Sacre Coeur peeks up above the buildings in the mirror. For as French as this café was, for whatever reason, the two times we went there they were playing Mexican music. The first time we arrived, we stood…
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Jessye at our favorite Parisian bar. Coffee and cognac. It was great having her come and visit. It was as if we hadn’t missed a beat while I have been in France and things were just as if we had been together this entire time. In our French bar and café hopping we came up…
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I finally finished enough of this painting to be happy enough to show it for my painting final. The professor rubbed his finger over the window to figure out that I cut it out to put the black paper behind, but didn’t really critique it at all. I still did well in the class, but…
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For the music festival, Trans Musicales, here in Rennes the bars as well established their own music festival called Bars En Trans but sadly my knowledge of French bands is lacking and I didn’t know who most of the list was but I did recognize Mister Heavenly. I had feared that I would miss the…
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After a day wandering the Parisien streets we decided to finish our brief Paris trip with a stop off at the Arc de Triomphe. It dwarfs with its size. After taking some cliché tourist photos (those things that everyone takes, but no one really looks at) we took the tunnel under the street to climb…
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Our next day in Paris we took a stroll without destination through Montmartre. Of course stopping by the square filled with artists to look at their work. Since the cliché for paintings here is that of street scenes of French architecture I was entralled to see new techniques and ideas. Perhaps it isn’t really the…
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Parisien breakfast. Whoever told the French that slicing a baguette in half and pairing it with a very light spread of butter and jam constitiues a breakfast should have been given a medal. At least three of those large desktop medals in boxes that I keep coming across at the antique markets.
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Getting up in the morning in the hostel in Paris, as seen with the personified figurine. The hostel was dirt cheap (for Paris at least) with the bed spread matching the curtains and yet we still somehow figured out a private room. Though perhaps with walls as thin as they were, “private” isn’t exactly the…
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My wanderings lead me to a building of artist studios. The indent on the floor by the front door, normally reserved for a floor mat of some form, has been filled with coins of low monetary value. To step on it, or to step over it.. The spiral staircase inside has been painted. Decorated erratically.…
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I wander the Paris streets on my own. The city of light lives up to its name. I give an explaination for leaving the others at the museum for wanting to find the “art de le rue.” Une flânerie in a radiating spiral. Letting my eyes work like magpies and wander towards the shiny and…
High Contrast Grey. 