Keeping Up

I have been very busy with avoiding work. Sometimes I work so hard at avoiding it, it somehow gets done.

This is my new thing, I guess. I draw a very loose, light sketch, then ink it with a dip pen, then color away in Photoshop. It is not too laborious, and I am mostly happy with the results. The problem is it kind of feels like cheating. It is somewhat wimpy to have the Control-Z so easily available. I think that I am going to do a second Teatrio (Bernard) story in this style. Mohamed asked me to do it quickly and I couldn't refuse. Anyway, I have to pay 50 Euro for my entry and it would cover both, so why not?

The dude is wearing the Sacre Coeur on his head, if you hadn't noticed. I call it Sacre Hat. He was supposed to be some random priest (with a Green Bay-like obsession with themed silly hats), but many people seemed to think he looked like me. I have another assignment this weekend to draw a self-portrait, so I might just draw another random dude and get me.

None For You

Oh! Pressious electronic tether
How easily you are severed.

Desperate Laundry

It seems everybody here in Lacoste is on the same Laundry schedule I am. This might be great for community togetherness, but not for achieving dry socks at decent hours. I could just use one of the dryers provided, but who wants to spend two Euro when you could hang it out to dry. Not I, says I. The only snafu is there were no more hanging lines available so, my room and hallways are now decorated with man-panties and socks. I was forced back to my beloved No-Underwear-On-Weekends Rule.

Karim

My friend and co-conspirator, Karim, has finally e-troduced himself and his talents online at www.karimaldahdah.com.

As an introduction, he is one of the funniest and most interesting people I have met in the SCAD Illustration department. He is a dirty foreigner so he therefore is very polite and very rude at the same time. Also, he reads this blog and I have been wanting to work him in somehow. Maybe I don't write enough personal day to day drama. If I did that there would be lots more poop thrown from hands to faces and back. And therefore much more interesting, but with less friends. Anyway, Karim wrote me email recently in which he bitches about his anxieties about This and That. It was a bitching very close to my own about my anxieties about That and This.

Marigold saw him the other day and recounted an amusing observation about how one might end any severely uninspiring situation you might find yourself entangled within. I.E., Karim was awkwardly located square in the middle of monotonous discourse between several dullards. So Karim shot up off the couch and said, "Boring boring boring boring!" and left.

Ghost Town No More

The break week is now at an end. All the other students have come back from their grand adventures and have littered up my peaceful air space. Dinners were just the seven or ten of us, and now they I have to compete to get a plate. These jokers come into my computer lab and make loud noises while I'm looking up internet porn. I scream at them, "I'm doing research, jack-holes!" and then I weep vigorously. Maybe I am feeling stressed about the upcoming weeks and maybe I am feeling sad about the fact that I left my wonderful wife for all this. It is great here, butt she is even greater.

Of the many things that stress me out one is the fact I am the Director for our end of the quarter show, Vernissage. There really isn't much direction or precedent for me to follow so I have to really get down to it, and soon. This is a volunteered job, meaning I was volunteered for it. It will look good on my resume so I am happy to have done it, but not to do it.

The other thing is that SCAD is not offering ANY of the classes I need to take for the summer for fall quarters. I would be cracking skulls if I were in Savannah, but I am reduced to strongly worded emailed over here. I have to register in a week and have no idea what I would register for. It this point I'm thinking of signing up for nothing and then suing them bastards for breach of contract.

Oh, the above drawing is a portion of my etching from the Intaglio Printmaking class I am taking. I am partially happy with it, but I think that I am too much a novice at the whole enterprise to achieve what I really what with it. Peace, dawgs.

Hype

I saw lots of great art while in Paris. Most of it was not the hyped up work that They say you should see. This was as close to the Mona Lisa as I could get. What makes this painting so sought after by tourists everywhere? Is it really that great? I'm not saying that it is bad. It is certainly a master work executed by a master painter, but so are the paintings that you run by to get to this one. For instance, the Madonna Of The Rocks had a dirty and dusty glass over it that obscured the already darkening painting. I think that the Mona Lisa was moved recently so that it is in a more singular location. The Louvre had planned on doing this for crowd control, but they moved up the project for The Da Vinci Code filming that I believe was happening while we were there in Paris. (We were diverted from walking through one of the streets towards the opera house by a big ol' film crew driving a car back and forth until we were bored watching.) So now all those who don't read books will see the movie and rush to the Louvre to do The Code Tour. Butt here I am, a tourist, complaining about other tourists blocking my pictures. Maybe that is the real art.

More Culture For Me

This is some artist's idea of art. I don't know who he or she is that made this, but my guess is that it was a guy. The Pompidou Center was full of modern and post-modern art like this. Much of it was great, but much was also crap. This is the general idea of recent art - throw crap on the wall and see if people like it. Amazingly, I actually liked some of it. Of course, they had many a master there too: Picaso, Matisse, Rouault, Giacometti, etc., etc., etc., etc.

Then we went to see the grave place with all the famous people buried there. We couldn't find The Lizard King, or Mozart but that is okay. I still made "decomposing" jokes. There were also lots of "dead end" and "crossing over" puns. Samuel Beckett would have approved. Well, probably not.

Then on the last night there, Saturday, a few of us went to the Tour Eiffel.

I tried to avoid it so as not to be the Total Tourist, but that is like avoiding the elephants crapping on your front lawn. Anyway, it was stupendous. At a mere 10,70 Euro to go to the top we tallied ho. Seeing the Paris skyline at night with the street lights eeking up through the blocks of decorated buildings was like looking at really well drawn map. With twinkling lights. And Parisians loitering about. And French whores.

Notre Dame

Our hotel was in the Latin Quarter, which is really close to the famous Notre Dame. Maybe you've heard of it? Disney made a cartoon movie about it and it's gargoyles. I liked the sexy lust scenes the best in that. It might have been based on some book or something. Whatever. The cathedral was really beautiful though. But what cathedral, especially in Paris, isn't? It is great how we gape and awe at these exercises in past opulence. These palaces of man-made beauty are built from the blood of the poor and forgotten. And they are not built for praise of the Heavens alone. They were built to show off how rich and excessive we and our great culture can be. Still, these are the things that elevate man to a level closer to God. We become creators on a grand scale, squeezing the awe out of new thousands of people everyday just like God's creations: Crater Lake, The Grand Canyon, Solar de Ununi, Denali, etc. etc.


I gaped. I loved it.

Paris-o-graphs

So we arrived in Paris on Thursday afternoon on the TGV, the fast speed train, from Avignon. It was on and off rainy, which was really okay and not depressing in a romantic-type way. It helped add to the dramatic feel a place like Paris should have. Right off the architecture of even the stupidest of buildings impressed me.

One of the first places we headed to was Montmartre with it's crown, the Basilique du Sacré Coeur. Here I am in front of it with my GIGANTIC HEAD!

Look how my head compares to what these Frenchmen present as grand. It is nothing but a silly hat which I might wear on events of celebration, like say a lawn social or any of various annual hullabaloos. It supposedly has one of the largest mosaics on its altar ceiling, but that is childish next to my beautifully complex cranial systems. The view of the city is great from my towering height on Montmartre, and this happens to be the filming location of such fine moving picture stories as the Oscar nominated Amelie. She returns the photo book to the sexshop dude here. Just down the hill is the cafe where Ms. Poulain worked, The Two Windmills. That movie supposedly really helped to revitalize this area. I guess it was poopy before, and now it is wonderful!

Ah, Paris!

I am back from my whirlwind adventures in Paris. It was a great four days filled with wine, roses, mayham, and mostly Art. They aren't kidding when They say that Paris is (was) the center of the artworld. I was constantly overwhelmed with mindblowing artwork. Not only was there so much artwork in all the sites we raced through (The Louvre, Pompidou Center, Musee d'Orsay, so many galleries, etc., etc.) it also such quality! Everytime I turned a corner there was another piece from the pages of my arthistory books made real. I could actually put my nose up to a roomful of Van Goghs, Manets, Degas, classical Greek and Roman statues, Rouaults, DaVincis, and on and on and on and on. I frequently felt a swelling that I'm sure is the same feeling that religous people feel. I wanted to spend weeks and months and years slowly wondering through the seemingly endless halls of mankind's greatest achievements. Still, I am glad to be back in Lacoste. This week is vacation week, so most of the other students have flown off to their various European vacation spots. I was almost thinking of going to Ireland with a group of em, but the money constraints always force themselves to make my decisions for me. Anyway, I am glad I am here. It is beautiful and more importantly quiet. I needed a vacation from the vacation. (I caught a bug while in Paris and my feet were killing me from all the walking.) The few staff that are here are talking about taking us ten or so students on day trips to surrounding towns that we wouldn't visit otherwise, like Marseille or Aix en Provence. I also plan on getting a lot of work done.

I will post some select pictures whent the internet is back up in the computer lab. I filled the ol' thang up again with mucho photographs of Paris and the people and art that make it up. I did a few sketchy drawings, but I need to refine them a lot. Like a lot a lot. Generally, I was way too busy gaping to draw.

Oh! and I am extremely happy to welcome Ms. Mei S. Miller into the World! New favorite Niece ever!

Roussillon

This is our fearless leader, Mr. Clifford, printmaker extraordinaire, pointing the way in the ochre valley of Roussillon. It is an absolutely beautiful and unearthly place. There are pure, saturated yellows and reds and everything inbetween spotted everywhere.

I won't be posting for a few days because we are going to Paris to see the sights in the city of lights. I am super excited about it all.

Eau Non Potable

Don't drink this guy's vomit, please. Interestingly enough, they call the cave-like hallways in the roman arenas vomitoires. This is not because people would often vomit during 'sporting' exhibitions held for show, but because they appeared to vomit up people into the arena. Isn't the word vomit a great word? It is so appropriately ugly and harsh.

VOMIT
c.1386, "act of expelling contents of the stomach through the mouth," from L. vomitare "to vomit often," frequentative of vomere "spew forth, discharge," from PIE base *wem- "to spit, vomit" (cf. Gk. emein "to vomit," emetikos "provoking sickness;" Skt. vamati "he vomits;" Avestan vam- "to spit;" Lith. vemiu "to vomit," O.N. væma "seasickness"). In ref. to the matter so ejected, it is attested from c.1390. The verb is recorded from 1422.

I Think of Ralph

Lacoste

Maybe I am posting too much nowadays. I am even having a hard time keeping up with what I am writing. Still, I use this as my travel journal now. Here is another one. Betsy does a much better job with the facts than I do.

Caught!

Mohamed (Children's book and Travel teacher) came into class today and immediately looked at me and asked, "So I'm intimidating, huh?" I froze up, and I'm sure my face turned crimson red. Then I apologized for anything that I might have said in the sad attempt to be funny on this little blog. Anyway, he didn't know that he was intimidating at all and started questioning the other students about it. One, we'll call her "Beth", came in mid-conversation and Mohamed turned on her and asked, "Am I intimidating?" She stared back at him like he was a Spanish inquisitor and the correct answer meant her life.

To clear it all up officially, Mohamed Danawi is in real fact a great, and supportive teacher who is intimidating to begin with. As one gets into the rhythm of his classes, you really see that he is laid back and possesses a good sense of humor. The reason he intimidates is that he expects good work and actual improvement of his students. Could you ask for more from an educator?

Now, Dale Clifford, whom I said was like a warm blanket of emotional support has turned on me. He is a great guy that has truckloads of knowledge to dump on me, but he is no longer the relaxed side guide I thought he was going to be. He is tough. He expects quality. However, this is a much better approach for the kind of student I am - lazy. I need outside forces. Pansies don't cut it when it comes to squeezing good work out of me. The question is - "Can I squeeze myself?" The answer is, "Try again later."

Nice, Huh?

Van Gogh Speedracer

One of the students here said that after seeing the actual trees, squares, fields, and whatnots here that Mr. Van Gogh painted he had less respect for him. I guess that he thought Vince had a great hand in twisting those fantastic colors and shapes out of the meager environment. In actuality Provence is very much like a Van Gogh painting - bright, windy, twisty, and beautiful. This is just one of the many almond trees that are blossoming in the valley below Lacoste.

Here is Vince's painting of a similar tree cropped in the Japanese style.


This is just one example of the comparisons one could make with almost all of his paintings from his Arles period. It's just so cool so see what inspired such an great, influential artist.


The hospital where he went after he cut off his ear.

Cathedrals Galore

This is the chapel of St. Anne Cathedral in Apt. There are so many giant cathedrals around that you start to tire of them. They blend together so much that the damn thing better be super, duper, uber impressive for me to be awed. Still, they are all wonderful and I would be saddened to see them firebombed.

Fools!

This is what I missed out on last week in Arles. There was a Feria de Something or Other going on and this is Corrida Country so they feel the need to torture six bulls to death in front of a bloodthirsty crowd. I decided not to go and enjoyed the city instead. You might think that I disagree morally with bullfighting because of my decision and subsequent description of the 'sport,' but you'd be wrong. I just didn't care enough to spend twelve Euro. Arles was great though. Van Gogh lived there for a while and then went crazy. He came, he saw, he painted, he cut off his ear, he left.

I stole the picture (both actually) from one of the other students here. Everyone downloads from their cameras in the computer lab and leaves them in the pictures folder, so they become fair game. It actually works out great for everyone. I took pictures today, but I am lazy about uploading them. Actually I took a whole camera's worth of of pictures, which is aprox. 140.


This the place we went today. It is the Pont Du Gard, one of the best, if not the best, preserved Roman aqueducts. It was very cool. So cool, in fact, that I scratched my name into it like the graffiti artists of past. Then we made the rest of the wonderful day in Nimes. I could move there I loved the town so much. It had such a great amount of beauty and history rolled up into one (Somewhat like Cusco, but french and completely different). There is also one of the best preserved Roman arenas here. It is in much, much, much better condition than the Coliseum in Rome. I also threw some money at this book called Atlas Des Ideations by Belgian artist, Patrick Van Caekenbergh. It is like a surreal pop-up scrapbook from another dimention (or a Gilliam movie). I was bummed that we didn't have time to see his retrospective there, but the book is great on its own. We have a bookmaking seminar tomorrow and Sunday so I want to incorpoate some of the ideas that this book gives me.

Then we got back from the day long Nimes adventure and had dinner then watched The Cook, The Thief, His Wife and Her Lover by Peter Greenway - A beautiful exercise in ugliness.

I was kidding about the graffiti thing on the Pont Du Gard. I had to get something in for April Fools. The French call it "poisson d'avril."