Bernard

So I think that this is Bernard in all his glory. I am taking a children's book class here and we are participating in this big deal Teatrio thingy that is going on in May in Venice. Mohamed Danawi is not only our teacher and spiritual guide here in Lacoste, he is also a judge for this impressively big deal children's book competition. Therefore he is a good person to have in our corner. There might be a conflict of interest there, but I'm not going to complain.

Bernard is a nice little piggy bank that faces his biggest fear with bravery and more than a little faith. A tale that the whole family will enjoy time and time again is brought to you by the talent behind such feel-good classics as "The Boy With No Pants" and "Dull Casters."

This is only the first of six panels. To see the breathtaking action unfold you will have to wait for the coming weeks. The class is actually talking about going to Venice with Mohamed to experience the Teatrio show. Therefore I would know almost right away that I won first place and was on my way to a life of luxury and ease.

Isle Sur La Church

This is the church from Isle Sur La Surgue. I forget the saint that it is named after, and you really don't care. So we are both happy. This little piece is for my Travel Portfolio class. I have to still post pictures from last weekend's trip to Arles. It was really great and filled with amazing visuals, but my camera died about halfway through the long day. It is a good thing that everybody has to upload their pictures to the computers in these computer labs. There is a good community spirit about that sort of thing. I have already burned a disk with aprox. 256MB of my own pictures and 400MB or so of other people pics.

Waves

Being here in Lacoste has been good for my work ethic. Without the distractions of everyday life (like preparing food, cleaning up, TV, vast amounts of friends, a sexy wife, etc.) I have been working almost nonstop on creative projects. Two people in separate studios asked me why I am always there. I was hoping that I would have more time to myself to enjoy how beautiful this place is, but I also knew that I wasn't coming here for vacation. With three studio classes, I always have a looming deadline. Therefore I stay up late in the computer lab, illustration studio (which has an amazing view!), or printmaking studio. But I can't sleep in in the morning because I am in Southern France, for God's sake. Imagine if I let my self slip into becoming a vampire in a place with such breathtaking beauty in the morning. I know that I sound like my Dad right now, especially in the light of all the younger college kids here. I am the oldest of them at an ancient 28. I have had to go through the Yes-I'm-Really-28-and-I-am-married-and-we-do-miss-each-other-and-I-know-I-look-young-and-I-don't-need-the-Face-Book speech several times to each now group when one might see my wedding ring or whatnot. I think they all know it now so we can go on living, thank you very much.

Anyway, all this working doesn't necessarily mean that I am doing excellent work. Which is the reason that I have to work it so long. Today, while working on one of my children's book illustrations a wave of tiredness slapped me across the face. I was forced to take a nap against my will. Now I gots to stay up late again to make up for it.

More Pictoragraphes

So here is the ruins of the Chateau de Sade. The Marquis de Sade is an old famous dude that was extremely rich and did a bunch of social experiments with people which almost always involved sex and torture. Then he wrote about it, so they jailed him. But his wife got him out. Then her Mom jailed him again. The tale goes on and on, but you should rent the movie (Quills). Oh yeah, The word "Sadism" comes from this crazy dude. I live for these short weeks in the shadow of his legacy.


This is looking down on a part of Lacoste. Obviously, the whole town hasn't been restored by SCAD, yet.


The clock tower. It doesn't have a covering for the bell so that the sound travels further down the valley. It rings twice every hour - three minutes before the hour and on it. This is so that the farmers down below in the valley and be sure about the time. Idiots.


Flowers in the market in Apt. Great flowers here. Great markets.


Whicked bike in the market.

Le Boulangerie

This is our newly christened Library - the old boulangerie. It still has the igloo-like stone oven in it that seats about four people. It is really great to be in a place like this and be able to really explore all the nooks and crannies. I feel bad for the tourists who peek in doors, but can't really completely feel out the place like I can. It is a shame, because Lacoste is so winding and beautiful in it's hidden details. It is fascinating to me to find a back stairway carved into the mountain in one place and get a completely surprising view on the buildings below or above. I always felt cheated in New Orleans when I was denied permission to stick my head into every door or window. Here there are a few doors and windows that are off-limits, but overall we have free-run of the place.

Happy Easter! You'd think that I would have had a more than enough opportunity to go to church. Apparently attendance here is so low that one priest does the rounds for about ten neighboring villages. Therefore, they have mass that the church here about once every ten weeks.

Isle sur la Sorgue-Provence

We went to this place today. It had some great canals running around the town with giant, overgrown water wheels the lazily turned. Another cathedral and plaza and market and crappy sketches. Then it rained. Apparently the region is in a drought, so the rain is really good. Butt I don't want it. I want sunny, warm days and easy flowing wine. Go.

My camera's 256MB memory card id full so I will burn a CD and post some picturagraphs soon.

My roommate, let's call him "Tyler", is a good guy. He is mostly deaf so I can make a big ruckus in the room late at night and he sleeps soundly through it all. Great, but he actually sleeps soundly, and I am not graced with his deafness. He doesn't actually talk, he groans. Especially in the grogginess of my own sleep he sounds exactly like the Frankensien Monster should sound like. Long and deep and guttural with the high weeze at the end. And it's pretty loud too. It would be extremely funny if he weren't my roommate. Maybe he just needs all those villagers in his dreams to chill out.

Classes

The classes that I was so excited to have start, did exactly that yesterday and today. I know this always happens, but still I am always surprised at the sense of panic that I get. I feel like a complete hack that has faked his way only so far. M. Danawi seems like a good teacher and fun guy, but I might have some issues with him. He is intimidating in some way that is hard to describe. He teaches both Children's Book and Travel Portfolio. D. Clifford, the Intaglio Printmaking teacher is the opposite. Even though I have never done any printmaking before I feel assured that I will get some good images out of the class because of him. I have always wanted to do printmaking, and he seems like a great person to learn it from. Not to mention a great place to learn it in. The studio is an actual cave carved in the mountain.

The other students are great. Generally I am impressed with them and their work. It is always interesting to get a new group of people together like this. Right now we are all very friendly with each other. Give it a few weeks and we will all know who we hate and who is our new bestest friend. As of yet I am generally quiet with the group, but I know that will change as time goes on. I would like to think that I am the quiet, wise guy in the background who doesn't say much, but when I do it is good. No, I am the loud mouth making an ass out of himself regularly. Marigold tells me that that is my charm. And that is her charm.

Because of my advanced age, I have been recruited to be an extra driver. I hope that I don't get killed on these narrow and winding roads. It will be fun in a way, but I would rather not have the responsibility.

Lacoste Photos

Here are a few pictures of Lacoste that I took on my first day here. The place is so beautiful and scenic that no picture can really capture the feeling of the place. But I will still try. I think a drawing might be able to better, but we will have to see.

This is the entrance to room. You can see a part of the Chateau ruins above. The property was a traditional painting and sculpture school before SCAD owned it. So there are lots of strange rock sculptures sitting around town.


My room doesn't really look out over the town or valley, which is a shame. But the sun shines in at about seven A.M. to help wake us up.


The first morning was very foggy. It was cool to see it all flow away like the tide.

Bonnieux is the town across the valley. Maison Bass is in the foreground. Bonnieux and Lacoste used to be warring towns; Bonnieux was Catholic and Lacoste protestant. They would battle each other in the morning and then drink with each other in the afternoon in Mason Bass. Of course, SCAD owns that too. Local people use the fields to grow grapes and cherries, and lavender, and almonds, etc. Mostly grapes although, as this is Provance.

Parlez-vous français?

French phrases to know intimately:

Je regrette

Je suis désolé

I was militant about NOT learning French because it is such an anti-phonetic language before I came here. After being berated by French speakers throwing their French at me I am a changed man. I will learn. I will at least learn how to say some fine day, "Where is a showing of Star Wars 3?" That might not be translatable although.

Lacoste

I have finally made it here. Actually, I made it last night and today was my first chance to get on the computer. Even the computer lab is quaint.

Every flight I had, three connections, was individually delayed by mechanical or weather related problems. Therefore it took a long time to get to Marseille. Charles De Gaulle was the worst. Because I was late getting into Paris, I had to wait in line to get a new transfer to Marseille. This shouldn't have been a problem as there were three more flights that afternoon. However, I had to wait two and a half hours in that line so I missed most of the flights. They scheduled me to fly out in five more hours, with a free food voucher. This would have been somewhat tolerable (not really) if language weren't such a problem on it's own. I could barely say hello to people, so how was I going to ask for a smoked turkey on rye with all the fixin's? So I had McDonald's. Even that was like pulling nails. So my first meal in France was a supersized number one.

Anyway, my checked bag never made it to Marseille so now I have very few clothes and no art supplies. They said that it would be delivered today, but you know how that goes.

Lacoste is beautiful. I went for a walk early this morning with my roommate, Tylor. The fog was rolling off the top of the ridge and floating in the valley below. It reminded me almost exactly of southern California mornings, except in an ancient town. I am staying in a house that is just under the Chateau de Marquis de Sade, a castle-like ruin, which is on top of the ridge. I am super excited to explore the town and surrounding area (mostly vineyards).

I was hard to sleep last night. Probably because of jet lag, but mostly because I really missed Marigold. She would have really been nice to have around in the Paris ariport, due to her knowledge of the language. Butt she would have been even nicer to have around last night. My roommate is deaf so he wouldn't even care about us once the lights are out. Really, though, it sucks being in a new, beautiful place without the one you love. I was telling people earlier today that I am not allowed to go Italy on our upcoming break. They thoguht that was Silly. I hit those bastards in the nose.

Au Revoir, Savannah

When I did theater in high school I never really got nervous except for just before going on. I hated standing in the theater wing waiting for my cue. I would always get there too early and then have to wait for five minutes - that terrible five minutes. Otherwise I would barely feel the prick of nervousness. Leaving for France is like that. These few days before Thursday have been antsy ones. I guess it could be the vacuum of nothing scheduled and no due dates after the craziness of last week. Butt I also want to get the most out my time with Marigold before I leave, and I stress about how to do that properly. So I find myself doing silly things like making photo collages and giant poops. Same thing, you say? Well, everyone has their diversionary tactics.

Exchange

The US Dollar to Euro exchange rate sucks and continues to suck more and more as the days go by. I should have bought a whole bucketload of Euros when I first knew that I was going to France, when it was 1.28 Euros to the Dollar. Now it is 1.34. And it is still moving the wrong direction despite the fact that we are being told that, "Our economy is improving." I blame one person for this. Maybe it is infantile of me, but if people like Rush and Fox can be simplistic and blind (or deaf as the case my be) I am allowed this one slip myself. Bush has failed at every business venture he ever took on, and that includes the American economy. Jackass.

Arrested Development

I just want to have on record that this show is awesome. It is so ridiculous that I cry sometimes. Well, I probably would be crying anyway. Still, I love it. It is the best thing little Opie Cunningham has ever done. Remember when Jason Bateman was the Teen Wolf Two? Ah . . .

Swallow

This is scratchboard with some digital coloring. I had never done scratchboard before, and I now know that I really like it. It took a while to think negatively (drawing the whites on black instead of blacks on white), and this illustration shows that, but I want to try more and more to get better. I really love the dramatic effect that is super easy to achieve. Chris Gall is an incredible illustrator that uses scratchboard with the computer for collage of color and cleanup.

Thanks, Natalie, for the comment before I was done posting. That is service!

Dot Com

www.stevehaske.com is now officially up and running. I want to thank Jeanette for her generous gift of the URL. Also, thanks Michael Phillippi for forcing me to do it as a class project. Of course, thank you to The Academy, and my agent. Cue music.

No Quarter

The Winter quarter has ended! I made it through without hurting anyone. Last night I slept for thirteen hours to make up for the little to none from the previous daze. The house is a mess, and so is Marigold. I throw her schedule off when I keep these crazy hours and am almost punch drunk with stress. Yesterday, with two days of no sleep, I was so jittery that I challenged three people to some friendly fisticuffs. Luckily I had no takers. TaeKwonDo classes would have been nice to vent some of that sugary energy.

Again, I hope that I got all A's, but I wouldn't be surprised if I got a B in my Computer Illustration class. Really I don't want to care about that, and only look back at the quality of my work and any overall improvement I have gained. Unfortunately, I do care about grades. They make almost no difference to me practically speaking (I need only to retain a 3.0 average), but hold a huge emotional sway. Plus I like to lord them over the heads of those people who got a Fellowship from the school, and then lost it, or are on the edge because of their grades. It's like they give either fellowships or grades arbitrarily here. I don't mean to be bitter, I just am.

Packing for Lacoste, France begins in earnest now. The time seems to be flying by so fast there is barely time to clean up kitty vomit. I'll leave you with that image.

Packing Beef

I have always been terrible at packing. When I was a kid my family would always have to wait for me to finish packing my bag before summer vacation. One time, at about midnight the night before, I realized that I had lost my duffle bag. We had to call a friend early the next morning, when we were supposed to be on the road already, to ask to borrow one. Why they didn’t make me use a trash bag I’ll never know. After Marigold and I became increasingly intimate, she started picking up the slack for me. I didn’t mean to be That Guy, but I am. She would arrange everything I would need and extrapolate out the quantities based on the projected numbers of days separated from home. Apparently much too difficult for me to accomplish. It has gotten to where I trust her judgment and don’t even check to make sure that all my highest of fashion items are packed. But should I expect her to pack my stuff for when I leave her in ten days? “Baby, I’ve leaving you for French whores, but I’ll be back for you to take care of me in ten weeks. Pack my clothes, would ya? Don’t forget the condoms, doll.” Or maybe I can save the ol girl from one more bit of heartache, and not be an ass.

The picture above is from the Tybee lighthouse.

A Letter of Apology

Dear 16 year-old Steve,
Fuck you. A-hole.

Get some friends, Loser,
28 year-old Steve