Le Blog

Happy Belated Homecoming: A Summary

2011-11-30T04:46:00.000-08:00

Full disclosure: I've been back in America for a little over a week now.
And it's nice to be home.

The last week in Lacoste was dense with work, but excellent because it was work I was excited to do. My Writing About Place class went on our last field trips around the Luberon valley, to vineyards and abbeys.

At the end of our last day of class on Thursday, the nine of us students went with our professor to Le Garage, a restaurant in the neighboring village Lumière. We had a real French dinner with local red wine.

I had some extra café to help me stay up all night to finish my brooches for Vernissage. Almost all of them were made with antique French ribbon.

On Friday and Saturday, we had Vernissage, the student art exhibition where we showed work we'd produced during the quarter in Lacoste. This was my gallery space (I got da prime spot) where I sold prints of my échantillon-pairing photographs and brooches. It was a successful exhibition, and now some of my photographs are hanging in French homes and my brooches are pinned to French sweaters.

My Writing About Place class put together an art installation for Vernissage in one of the caves. The concept was a walk-in travel journal, so we put up mementos and writing excerpts and pictures.

In this class installation, I included a summary I originally wrote about The Abbey Bookshop, but which I've found serves as an apt summary of my time in France: It's overwhelming, but in the way the view from the top of a mountain at sunrise is overwhelming. And like at sunrise, there's coffee to drink.

Provençal Aubrey

Sunday and Monday were devoted to packing and spending some last moments with friends in Provence. I traveled all day Tuesday. Miraculously, we made our flights out of Marseille and Paris even after some authentic French bureaucracy at check-in, which took a little over an hour. I saw Sacré-Coeur and the Eiffel Tower from the airplane window, though, so I said goodbye to France with love and gratitude. We did miss our flight out of Atlanta because Homeland Security's Agriculture beagle sniffed out an apple and an orange in my mom's bag, but it was adorable, so no hard feelings. Plus, we were in America and could actually talk to the airport staff past the level of three-year-olds. I got home and was reunited with my dog and the comfiest bed in the world early Wednesday morning, and later enjoyed my first meal back in the States covered in Sweet Baby Ray's BBQ sauce.

And now for some stats n' facts about the transition from France to America:

Best souvenir from France: Antique passements (ribbon, basically)
Most worthwhile activities in France: Making friends, being outside, drinking coffee and eating croissants
Approximate number of chocolate croissants eaten: 100

First thought upon returning to America: I can understand what they're saying!
Second thought upon returning to America: This coffee is watery.

Rubanesque's Grand Opening

2011-11-10T04:42:00.000-08:00

Ruth's Etsy shop, Rubanesque, is now open!

I was the lucky photographer for Ruth's beautiful handmade jewelry. Her shop is full of one-of-a-kind cuffs fashioned from antique French ribbon from her grandfather's archives. They'll make perfect Christmas presents. Or perfect Welcome Home From A Semester in France presents...

Visit the shop: http://www.etsy.com/shop/Rubanesque

Yesterday's Highlight

2011-11-08T12:00:00.000-08:00

Twice!
Cats and dogs aren't rare in France (in fact, the dogs tend to go wherever their owners go, and without leashes). I usually don't have the courage to ask in French to pet a dog, but I did yesterday.

Queen Victoria, an antique shop owner's dog in Isle sur la Sorgue. Not pictured: she rested her head on my leg for a little while, and I melted.

This dog belongs to a Lacoste local, who says his name is Hot Shit.

Vaucluse Makes Me Happy

2011-11-05T10:31:00.000-07:00

And the autumn colors everywhere.
I didn't have my camera with me Wednesday morning, a mistake for which I have suffered, but here are some edited phone pictures. My Business and Professional Writing class explored the town a bit, since luckily the wind and rain had let up for a while that morning, then we sat down in a café and ordered coffee. You know, class as usual.

Vaucluse has a historic paper mill where you can buy handmade paper. I got a few things to make brooches, but the selection here is unexceptional and generally overpriced. I prefer Paper Arts back home in Dallas, a hole-in-the-wall store I was introduced to this summer. :]

Halloween á Lacoste

2011-11-04T17:14:00.000-07:00


La Provence said, "We can't find a better way to celebrate Halloween than to spend it with the American students of SCAD Lacoste."

Last Saturday, 500 people traveled to Lacoste from surrounding villages for an afternoon of Halloween festivities. Since the French don't really celebrate Halloween, Lacoste's forty-year history of having American art students has made it the Halloween capital of southern France. This year, visitors enjoyed pumpkin-carving, face painting, crafts, haunted houses and lots of bon bons.


Skeletor Goes to France: The Skeleton's Fourth Annual Appearance. Shout outs to Lexie, who made the rib cage and pelvis stencils back in the day.

some of the costumed SCAD students

Decoration around the Pfriem Gallery.

Monster Box, where I spent most of the afternoon stumbling over French phrases and handing out candy.

Some Scaddie Costumes

Anna

Brandon (He was a gnome, though several French children thought he was "Papá Noel.")

Betsy

Myra

Eric

Victoria

Emory and Ashley

le me, without my shirt tucked in :/

Colleen

Jon and Marissa

Tom Fischer, our photography professor. He's dressed as a "little rascal." Notice the handmade, giant slingshot there in his back pocket.

Tina

Malee

Taylor

Jessica

David

Kait

Kat

Ashley

Alyse

Tina

Clearly this is not a SCAD student, but look how cute he is!

Karen

Maddie

Edie

Mary

Nicole and Ben

Courtney

Above photos by Maddie, Malee and mostly Alyse (Alyse's photography)

More Field Trippin'

2011-10-27T15:48:00.000-07:00

Tuesday evening, my Writing About Place class and as many extra students as fit in the two transit vans made the thirty-minute drive over to Gordes, down into a valley where the Senanque Abbey sits nestled among trees beginning to turn gold and orange and red, alongside faded lavender fields that the monks cultivate in the summer. Every day at 18h00 (6:00 p.m.), the monks walk into the chapel for evening prayer, called Vespers.

Seven monks in white robes and socks and sandals filed in and took their places in front of the small altar of the minimalist chapel with its worn, gray stone, vaulted ceiling and unassuming, unstained glass windows. One statue of the Madonna and child stood aside from the altar, which had a stone crucifix and two small arrangements of thin branches with orange and yellow leaves.
When the monks sang, their voices filled the chapel and rung from the stone walls and ceilings. It was all in Latin and French, and the only part I recognized was "Kyrie." It was beautiful.

About a half hour later, the monks set their hymnals down and filed back out of the chapel through a side door. Some of the other visitors followed, and the eighteen American students stood awkwardly for a minute. Two of our more confident students walked piously through that side door along with the others. The rest of us started to follow, wondering if this were an exit or a second part of the ceremony. A balding monk with a white beard stepped in front of us and said something in French. He may or may not have been telling us not to follow, so we turned around and left from the door we came in originally, back out into the courtyard next to the path to the parking lot. The two pious students were nowhere to be found. So we waited.

The beginning of autumn colors were absolutely beautiful, and for the first time on this trip, I kicked myself for not having my camera. It made me want to sew small squares of green, gold, orange, and red fabric into a loose pile of a pattern, then quilt over it with stitching in the shape of tree branches.

Eventually the two missing girls came back with their extra blessing. They had accidentally followed into a silent, personal prayer room, and had taken a few minutes to muster up the courage to try to find their way out. Finally all back together, we boarded back up into the transit vans and made our way out of the valley and back to Lacoste, the Writing About Place students thoughtful about what they would write for their Vespers prompt assignment.

The next morning, the four Business and Professional Writing students tagged along with the Travel Photography class to Roussillon. We wandered around the ochre mines (ochre is used for pigment in paint and whatnot) and forests for about an hour, then met up in the town at a café for class.

SCAD students and professors at the ochre mines in Roussillon

An average view of the Luberon Valley, taken in Roussillon.

After Business and Professional Writing class at a cafe in Roussillon.

viva la dainty

I might as well add a permanent closing tag to these posts:
SCAD Lacoste FTW.

Antique Ribbon Pairings

2011-10-24T15:41:00.000-07:00

See also Upon Returning from Paris for picture pairings with cotton patchwork fabric.
All these pictures were taken in Aix-en-Provence except the last two, which are in the Sacré Coeur in Paris.

The ribbon is from Ruth. She also let me borrow the book French General - Treasured Notions: Inspiration and Craft Projects Using Vintage Beads, Buttons, Ribbons, and Trim from Tinsel Trading Company. ("Notions" are beads, buttons, ribbon, trim, et cetera.) On Saturday afternoon, I sat out on the terrace and read and ate macarons and one of the village cats walked up at sat next to me. On a related note, students and professors have been waking up with Jean-Clawed on the foot of their bed. Lacoste ftw.

Joyeux Anniversaire Weekend

2011-10-24T11:11:00.000-07:00

coffee in the atelier

Yesterday was my twentieth birthday, and the whole weekend was wonderful. It started on Thursday afternoon (SCAD doesn't have classes on Friday, so while there's still a lot of studio work to be done, Thursday after class is the beginning of our weekend) with the perfect photography job.

Ruth is from Ireland, but she's been living here on the edge of Lacoste with her French husband and two-year-old son for over a year. She makes beautiful jewelry from antique ribbon and silk, much of it from family archives. Because she'll be opening an Etsy shop next month, photographs were in order, and I jumped on the opportunity. Marissa came with me on Thursday afternoon to wrist-model the cuffs, then we got to stay for dinner (ratatouille, beef, rice, and a cheese course). On Saturday afternoon, I returned to photograph the cuffs without a model, and drink my fill of mint tea with honey.

Ruth's cuffs in her atelier

bracelets Ruth made from antique ribbon

A preview of Ruth's handmade cuffs, which will go on sale in her online shop on November 7.

Ruth gave me some treasure to make my own jewelry (I mostly make brooches, which I can make with smaller ribbon samples): a box of antique ribbon and silk and several pages from old sample books that salesmen would take to shops, or that shops and warehouses would use to order their supplies of ribbon. I've taken pictures and will be doing more picture pairings with them, so stay tuned for those.

On Friday, all the SCAD students spent the day in Aix-en-Provence, a medium-sized city full of fountains and shops. I went to an antique consignment store, where I found a few small, inexpensive brooch-making materials, plus some beautiful furniture that I wish I could buy. Upholstery is so lovely.

In the afternoon, we visited the Cite du Livre - in what used to be a match factory, it's now a series of libraries with an art gallery, where Herboriser is currently on display. It's a series of illustrations of all the plants mentioned in the writings of Camus, done by a friend of his, alongside Camus' original manuscripts.

coffee in Aix-en-Provence

Sunday morning, I went to Isle sur la Sorgue where there is a weekly antique market. Mostly I watched the mallards in the Sorgue river, plus I got an apple, and some thread for my brooches. The afternoon was relaxing; I took a nap. Then in the evening, a group of us students walked up the hill past the chateau of the Marquis de Sade to a limestone quarry where there is a firepit. My friends Ben, Nicole and Serena had gathered wood that afternoon, and Ben had marshmallows and some kind of French cookies with chocolate on them, so we had French s'mores and it was the perfect birthday evening.

Third Installment of Paris: Cathedrals and Catacombs and... Carts

2011-10-21T15:00:00.000-07:00

Because alliteration is important, I guess. The cart comes with the bit about the Louvre. I'm also throwing the L'Opera Garnier in here, but that doesn't have a C word.

Though I have no pictures I think are worthwhile from the Notre Dame, I did visit it and go inside. Since we were staying in the Latin Quarter, Notre Dame was a sort of base point for navigating the city (it is also where "kilometer zero" is, the point from which all distances in Paris are measured).

I do like these pictures I took in La Sainte-Chapelle.

I visited Thursday morning, and bought a ticket for a piano and cello concert of sonatas by Beethoven and Brahms in the chapel that night. The stained glass windows were less majestic without sunlight, of course, but the ornate gold was lit beautifully and glowing around the two musicians. It was an hour of magnificence.

The Louvre

After seeing the classic Louvre pieces like the Winged Victory, the Mona Lisa, and so on (I admit there's only so much of that I can take in among a crowd in a couple hours), Marissa and I found each other then found an empty upstairs wing to sit for a while and breathe. Wandering around, we found things I enjoyed even more: tapestries, "art objects" like small religious pieces, pocket watches, music boxes, dainty china patterns and not dainty pocket knives, and the apartments of Napoleon III, which were lavish and ornate and had those wonderful velvety fabric-upholstered walls that I love so much.

We spent a few minutes in the gardens outside before leaving the Louvre, and that's when I saw it. For the first time in real life, I saw one of the first birds I admired in my first bird field guide (I own several): a magpie. Marissa thinks it's funny that I get excited about magpies, because apparently she's seen them all over the place in her travels, and is pretty sure they're actually nuisances, but that's true of a lot of lovely animals.

Regardless, I tried to get closer to this one for a picture, but it ran (not flew - ran) away from me and through some bushes. I tried to follow, but I lost it. I did, however, find this shopping cart. Inside the bushes of the Tuileries.

I actually saw someone else dainty chinning on this statue before me, then two other groups followed suit after me. viva la dainty

On Friday I went to the catacombs: mass graves of bodies that were originally buried in a number of other cemeteries, but because they died of the plague and Paris' water system was getting infected, they were moved hundreds of years ago to this underground (and under sewer and under everything else) maze. In the 1800s, the bones were "artfully arranged" by a French eccentric and opened to the public. It's chilling. About six million bodies are piled there, and they all look the same.


muerta la dainty (absolutely irreverent. sry)

After the catacombs, Marissa and I took the Metro (I've reached intermediate status as a Metro navigator, at least) to L'Opera Garnier to wander around in some ornate golden stuff for a while.

The stage, not yet ready for a show.

Saturday morning before the train back to Lacoste, I went toSacré Coeur at the top of Montmartre.

With that, I declare Reason #8 Why Studying in Lacoste is Wonderful: Paris.

Second Installment of Paris: Fabric

2011-10-19T08:31:00.000-07:00

Epiphany I had in Paris: I need to study fibers, not photography as a minor.

The times when I felt the most like I could live in and enjoy the moment were when I didn't have my camera with me (luckily Marissa is just the opposite and put my camera to good use). I do enjoy taking pictures, and I got some images I'm proud of that I'll be posting soon, but take a look at the "Upon Returning from Paris" post and you'll see what I mean. Mostly Paris made me want to make things with fabric and ribbon and take frequent breaks to write in my notebook or sit with some coffee and read.

I found some wonderful fabric while I was in Paris and I can't wait to start making things.

Le Rouvray was a favorite; it's a quiet shop in the Latin Quarter where the shopkeeper spoke English and quickly caught on to my taste in colors and patterns and could point out fabrics she knew I would love, and she called me "my dear" and gave me good prices.

The streets just below the hill in Montmartre, southeast of the Sacré Coeur, were full of excellent shops as well, with every kind of fabric in every kind of atmosphere a shop could have. It was a challenge not to buy everything in sight; I mostly bought quarter meters of cotton patchwork fabric because I'll be making lots of brooches to sell at Vernissage (SCAD Lacoste's end-of-quarter student art exhibition). Here are some of my purchases. Aren't they pretty?

This looks just like some wallpaper that used to be in my house when I was little.

This fabric cost one Euro and has since been turned into this journal case for an instructional writing assignment.

I got these brooches from an almost-too-good-to-handle shop in Montmartre called Moline Mercerie. They remind me of old costume jewelry I've found in my grandparents' house, but cleaner and nicer looking (and so inexpensive!). With a square of fabric behind it on the collar of a heavy coat, one of these will look lovely.

Buying them was another instance of an interesting pattern in Paris. My French is not very good, so I tried to stay quiet most of the time. These brooches happened to be kept behind the cashier, so I had to give myself away as a foreigner. One of my friends who spent a semester in Europe last year said the easiest way to spot a group of Americans is if they all look like they're different nationalities. My friend Marissa and I both happen to be the same height with short blonde hair, so when it becomes clear we're not French, the next guesses are usually, "Denmark? Holland? Poland?" asked with a smile. But when we say "États-Unis," the tone changes. They want to know which part of the US. Maybe we could redeem ourselves a little if we're from New York. But Marissa's from Florida and I'm from Texas. They don't act hostile or anything (maybe playful joking-hostile), but it's as if we're not endearing like we would have been if we were fellow Europeans.

I didn't mind it as much as I found it interesting. A Greek crêpe stand owner, after finding out I'm from Texas, said, "Teks-ahs! George Boosh!" and pointed to one of the paninis in the window. "Tek-san! Beef!" I got crêpes from him a couple times after that, and he greeted me as "Teks-ahs!" each time. I didn't mind. The crêpes were delicious.

Okay, do you see the price on that one? Five Euro for three metres of nice, thick fabric.
I think the fabric was heavier than the books in my bag on the way back from Paris.

First Installment of Paris: Bookshops

2011-10-18T14:27:00.000-07:00

Full disclosure: I didn't go to the Eiffel tower.
I did go to three English bookshops and a couple French ones, several fabric shops, and a piano and cello concert at La Sainte-Chapelle. I ate real French macarons from Ladurée, and six kinds of crêpes (and to be honest, a crêpe without Nutella is not that great).
And Marissa and I ate at the same Japanese restaurant three times. I'm not ashamed.

I put my cup of maple-syruped coffee down to browse the books overflowing from a cave in Paris. Not like I'm in paradise or anything, just The Abbey Bookshop.

During the first few days of the trip, I felt pressure to do and see everything. There is so much to experience in Paris. In fact, there is no end to Paris. And these six days weren't just vacation; we had required field trips and gallery visits. I'm not complaining, mind you, because I went on field trips in Paris. I'm just saying. The #1 way to guarantee a dissatisfying trip to Paris is to think it will be your only chance to experience all the city has to offer. I realized this on Thursday, so instead of wallowing in adventurer's anxiety, I did the things I love.

One of the places I was most excited for in Paris was Shakespeare & Co. bookstore. It sits on the left bank of the Seine near the Notre Dame, with chess tables outside as well as upstairs in the reading room. I heard The Tallest Man on Earth playing from the front desks, and someone practicing the theme from Amelie on the piano upstairs. Shakespeare & Co. has nooks to sit and read and write, and history of nurturing writers. In keeping with its bohemian-intellectual feel, it houses a few young writers in cots upstairs, so long as they work in the shop and read a book a day. The most famous writers who stayed here are Ernest Hemingway, James Joyce and Gertrude Stein. It has become a kind of pilgrimage place, with the walls of a nook upstairs covered in layers of notes and pictures left by visitors. It's a bit "touristy," as much as I hate saying that word as if it lowers the shop's value. It draws visitors for good reason.

One wall in the main room of the shop is devoted to common books that travelers come specifically to Shakespeare & Co. for: Ernest Hemingway's A Moveable Feast, for example, or James Joyce's Ulysses, which was published by the shop's founder when no other publisher would touch it. When you buy a book there, the young writers working put an official "Shakespeare & Co. - Kilometer Zero" stamp inside the cover.

photo by Marissa

reading room, photo by Marissa

outside the window upstairs, photo by Marissa

I explored the shop, read a couple chapters of a book in the reading room, wrote in my journal and argued with myself about how many fifteen-Euro books I could justify buying when Half Price Books is waiting with open arms for my return in five weeks. I settled on two, then left the shop feeling small. Shakespeare & Co. is as much about its own history and ideology as it is about literature. After spending time among its shelves, around all the notes and little idiosyncratic marks other literature-lovers have left, you feel like just another person who loves something much, much bigger than yourself. It's not a bad feeling; you simply are aware of your own smallness.

photo by Marissa

The next day, however, I found The Abbey Bookshop. Where Shakespeare & Co. says, "We welcome strangers, we nurture writers, we have a history in the literary world," and so on, The Abbey Bookshop says, "We love books."

The place is filled with books. They make the shelves sag. They're piled precariously on every surface but a narrow walkway. They overflow not only from their shelves but from boxes and a cave downstairs. It can seem overwhelming, but in the way the view from the top of a mountain at sunrise is overwhelming. And like at sunrise, there's coffee to drink. The shop owner always has free coffee for you (or tea towards the end of the day) with maple syrup or brown sugar on a tray half-hidden in a mountain of books. And if you're looking for something specific, Brian (said provider of coffee and books) knows where it is, or will get it for you, because it might be in one of the shelves revealed when the one in front of it is rolled aside (yeah, this place is that magical).

I should also mention that the Abbey is the first bookstore I've ever been to with more than one of Rumi's texts. In the States, I looked for Rumi at every bookstore I visited for months (and when I finally found one, I wondered why I hadn't just bought it online). Even at Shakespeare & Co., there were two copies of The Penguin Classics' Selected Writings of Rumi. At the Abbey, there were multiple translations of multiple texts. This, my friends, is the mark of a bookshop that knows what's up.

Also, The Abbey Bookshop organizes hikes in the surrounding countryside, which is one of the items on my list of reasons why I should live in Paris for a while.

I also went to an English bookshop called Village Voice. It was pleasant, and spacious compared to the other shops. It has less character but a good selection; it's a straight-forward bookshop, and is probably the best place to go if you're an English-reader looking for a brand new release.

When I bought Teilhard de Chardin's "The Divine Milieu" there, the cashier commented that it had been on the shelf for a long time, because the price on the inside cover was still in Francs instead of Euros.
The next day I went back to the Abbey Bookshop.

Books I Purchased in Paris

Clockwise from top left: Abbey, Abbey, Abbey, Shakespeare, Village Voice, other French shops.

(I put more pictures on facebook. Add me as a friend if you want to see more.)

Upon Returning from Paris

2011-10-16T14:25:00.000-07:00

I've returned to Lacoste after six whirlwind days in Paris. There is much school work to do, but until I have more time to blog, enjoy these photos.
The bottom parts are pictures of fabric I bought in Paris; the first three from a little fabric shop called Le Rouvray that I visited more than once, on the edge of the Latin Quarter, where the woman working there spoke English and quickly recognized my taste in colors and patterns and knew which fabrics I would like, and called me "my dear" and gave me good prices. The last came from one of a couple streets full of fabric shops in Montmartre, just below the hill of the Sacré Coeur. It was fabric paradise. More pictures of both Paris and Parisian fabric will come soon, along with tales of my adventures.

Being Aubrey in France

2011-10-09T12:26:00.000-07:00

After much anticipation, I was finally able to start making brooches this weekend. I packed light back in September, which meant I left behind my sewing and crafty things - but before one week passed, I found embroidered patches at a French shop and some fabric at a market and I itched to make brooches. So my wonderful mama sent along the things I'd need (plus my skeleton costume, because it turns out Lacoste is the Halloween capital of southern France, due to their forty-year history with American art students). So here are the brooches I've made here so far.

The blue floral fabric came from the Apt market; the watercolor doodling is something one of my roommates, Maddie, does when she procrastinates; the rose patches are from a little shop in Nîmes; the bluish texture is an antique postcard and the two embroidered ribbons are from an antique market in Isle sur la Sorgue.

I wrapped up a couple writing assignments this week (see post below), so this weekend was a deep breath before our trip to Paris. I did laundry, got a good bag to carry my clothes because my small suitcase's wheel is broken and it's loud when it rolls and it makes me self-conscious, and also I tied ribbons onto my shoes, because what else do I do other than make brooches and tie ribbons onto my shoes? (And drink coffee; I'll get to that in a second.)

That's me standing out on our terrace with the Luberon valley spread out behind me. No big deal.

Usually the cafeteria has coffee hour from 16:00 to 17:00, but on weekends we go to Café de France on the edge of the village to get our caffeine. This is one of my pals and roommates, Serena, with today's cup of café.

Café is one of the best things about France. Along with cathedrals and bookshops (Shakespeare & Co., I'm talking about you). Truly France is a beautiful place.
Aside from those three heartwarmers, I'm excited for the opera house, fabric and thrift shops, catacombs, cemeteries, museums, picnics, and adventures waiting for me in Paris. I've gotten some excellent tips and recommendations for Paris already, but please, reader, don't hesitate to share your expertise. We're leaving tomorrow, and returning in six days. Keep us in your prayers and I'll be back on the blog with stories and pictures next week. Au revoir.

Café de France

2011-10-07T04:14:00.000-07:00

This is an article I've been working on for Writing About Place class, and I've had a lot of fun with it so far. The photos are by me as well. :]

Click on each page to see a readable size.

If anyone is more skilled with design than what you see here (not difficult) and would like to help me improve it, please do.

Reason #9 Why Studying in Lacoste is Wonderful: Visiting Artists

2011-10-02T10:36:00.000-07:00

Now that we've established Field Trips as numbers twenty-five through ten why studying in Lacoste is wonderful, let's move on to number nine.

You can read in the "Reading at the Dora Maar House" post that we SCAD students got to visit the estate of Picasso's muse to meet two artist fellows and learn about (and participate in) their work. This weekend, an artist visited our campus here in Lacoste, where her current series of paintings, In Wonderland, are displayed in our Pfriem Gallery.

This is one of the paintings displayed in SCAD Lacoste's Pfriem Gallery.

In the talk she gave for the students, painter Joanna Wezyk told us about her life and history as an artist. She has a huge variety of work, and it was interesting to get to see how her art has developed as her focus shifted throughout her life. We got to talk to her and get to know her personally, show her our portfolios and get her feedback, and attend her presentation and her official gallery opening.


Part of Joanna Wezyk's Cathedrals series.

Go ahead and file this one under "Why Being an Artist is Awesome."

Amendment to Reason #25 Why Studying in Lacoste is Wonderful

2011-09-29T10:47:00.000-07:00

Field Trips: more accurately, numbers 25 through 10 why studying in Lacoste is wonderful.

This is my Business and Professional Writing class, walking back from our lecture across the Luberon valley at a café in Bonnieux.

photo by Marissa

This is the spring in Vaucluse, which flows out of limestone mountains (it gushes in the springtime, but now that it's autumn, it's slower). We students also got to explore Petrarch's library and the historic Papeterie de Vaucluse.

Just another day at SCAD Lacoste.

Color Schemes of Provence

2011-09-27T12:57:00.000-07:00

Part 1

Photos by Marissa, editing and color scheming by me.

Reason #25 Why Studying in Lacoste is Wonderful: Field Trips

2011-09-27T11:43:00.000-07:00

This morning, my Writing About Place class tagged along with photography and art history classes to the Foret de Cedres - cedar forest - up beyond Bonnieux. The drive up the mountain, despite the adventure of sitting in the back of a transit van, was beautiful as we wound through trees and looked out over the Luberon valley. Once we explored the forest enough to find a suitable classroom, we talked about the pieces we'd been reading, our ideas for travel articles, and a prompt for a small writing exercise.

Yesterday, my Business and Professional Writing class (all four of us) got in on a field trip to Oppède le Vieux, where a hike up the hill brought us to a chapel and the ruins of a thirteenth-century fort. Was it relevant to our course? Nope. Was it a great idea? Yes. And tomorrow we'll discuss writing in the workplace while we hike through the vineyards of the Luberon valley to Bonnieux.

Nîmes and Pont du Gard

2011-09-26T10:37:00.000-07:00

The SCAD Lacoste students enjoyed a trip to Nîmes on Friday. After going inside the Arènas de Nîmes, we explored the city. And by "explored the city," I mean we sat down for lunch and coffee at a café in the shadow of the Maison Carrée.

After coffee, we visited the Carré d'Art - Musée d'Art Contemporain (Contemporary Art Museum) across the street, free with our student IDs. Art museums are becoming difficult for me; I don't like leaving all the art behind.
The building centered around green frosted glass and silver metal staircases. The art exhibits (and the small library and gift shop on lower levels) were on the other side of glass walls and doors along the perimeter of each rectangular floor. The man at the ticket desk sat solitary and small among all the glass and metal and open space above. If you went to talk to him, and you looked down next to a telephone on his desk, you would see his notebook, open to a page filled with intricate, precise pen drawings of animals.

After the museum, we did some actual exploring. We made our way slowly through the streets and alleys in what we thought was probably the general direction of the Cathédral (we ended up there eventually). Some stopped to shop, or to talk to four friendly French diners at a sidewalk café, one of whom was the proud owner of a small, big-eyed, gray dog sitting on his lap, and another one of whom wore thick-rimmed red glasses, a turquoise sweater, and invited us to meet her there the next night so she could take us to a real, authentic French soirée. We explained that we actually lived an hour away, and with polite well-wishes, continued on our way.


Cathédrale Notre-Dame-et-Saint-Castor de Nîmes

We spent some time in the Cathédrale and took lots of pictures, then left to explore more of the city and take more pictures. I bought a few embroidered rose and leaf patches to make into French brooches.

While Marissa and I sat outside a café, four girls our age walked up to us. Three of them were wearing trash bags. We'd seen small groups of these messy-looking kids throughout the day, and now one of the girls (who spoke some English) explained it to us: to raise money for their class and haze the freshmen, students of a literature class would let you smoosh a "pie" (whipped cream on a paper plate) in their face for one euro. We accepted their offer, and Marissa did the honors, though she found it was more difficult than you'd think to look someone in the eye then smoosh a pie in their face.

After all the exploring and pie-smooshing in Nîmes, the group reconvened at the Arènas and began the bus ride to the Pont du Gard.

The path to the Gard river led us past a one-thousand-year-old olive tree, then to the first century aqueduct. We walked over it and from the other side waded into the water. (Prepared students had brought bathing suits to France, but I stuck with a wade.) We swam, we skipped rocks, and of course, we took pictures.

Then we boarded the bus and returned to Lacoste, tired and happy.

Dainty Chin International

The Art of the Provençal Carte Postale

2011-09-25T09:33:00.000-07:00

Provence is beautiful, and it is no stranger to tourists. Entrepreneurial designers take advantage of the opportunity to provide their guests with the most common of souvenirs — one that is relatively inexpensive, fits easily into a purse or fanny pack, can let loved ones know you're thinking of them (and prove that you actually did visit this dreamy place), and most of all: it captures the spirit of Provence in thirteen by eighteen centimeters.

Below is a sample featuring my friend, Marissa.

Provençal postcard designers can't be limited to one picture; their work often features a collage of images that best represent the quaint lifestyle and historical beauty of the area: colorful fields of lavender and sunflowers; arrangements of wine bottles and grapes; aged stone steeples and terracotta villages nestled into green hills; shade-dappled hammocks (which I have yet to actually see here, though they must be popular among the locals since they are represented on such authentic documents as postcards); wrinkled men carrying baguettes under their arms; and groups of graying women in shawls, chatting on the corners of cobblestone streets.

Kittens and puppies abound in the south of France, as evidenced by a heavy-handed use of their likenesses in the forefront of collages, occasionally accompanied by a tasteful kiss-mark clip art and an even more tasteful caption: "bisous... bisous... gros bisous de Provence" ("kisses... kisses... big kisses from Provence").

Of course, buying cartes postales in Provence and mailing cartes postales in Provence are two entirely different endeavors. One can expect a Provençal post office to be open whenever the workers feel like it, and never ever during lunch.

So while you may decide to hand-deliver your cartes postales when you return home, you know that your loved ones will soon hold proof of your experience in the authentic beauty of Provence, even if they have to wait for your bisous.

2011-09-23T14:38:00.000-07:00

Reading at the Dora Maar House

2011-09-23T13:39:00.000-07:00

A small group of SCAD students were guests at the Dora Maar house yesterday evening for a reading by one of the artist fellows, American playwright Mona Washington. Another writing student, Eric, read the male part and did a great job. We also got to talk to and see a presentation by sculptor Mamiko Otsubo.

For further explanation: read up.

Being an artist can be fun :]

Excursion á Bonnieux

2011-09-20T16:38:00.000-07:00

From any terrace or balcony in Lacoste, we can see the countryside spread out in shades of green, bordered by hills like the one we live on, fading from blue-green to misty blue as they rise further and further away. On a hill about four kilometers in the distance is a cluster of buildings, in tones of terracotta: Bonnieux.

On Sunday, a group of new friends set out in the general direction of the village with words of encouragement from our student coordinator: "You'll probably get lost." We took her advice to heart.

Coffee helps prepare for the trip.

Wandering around an empty stone farmhouse, back up a trail beside trees and vineyards, next to a river and to a spring, we came upon fellow adventurers. This vacationing couple from Belgium, with their freshly graying hair, was also trying to find their way to Bonnieux. They spoke some English, and we chatted with the wife while her husband and a couple of our most expert navigators ventured in front. A path through some vineyards led to the main road which, though it wound around the edge of the valley in the least efficient route possible, was sure to lead to the town.

Because we are considerate young art students, we decided to let the Belgian couple resume their romantic adventure. So we found a large, fuzzy caterpillar and a cracked tree stump to inspect and photograph, giving the graying couple plenty of time to lose us.

After an hour and a half of hiking, we arrived safely in Bonnieux and realized we were hungry, thirsty, and wanted to sit down and have some coffee. Eventually we found a cafe that looked welcoming. Then we wandered around a little more and found that we were again in front of the welcoming cafe.

The woman who ran the cafe and small shop put together a few tables out front for the nine Americans, and once we figured out the menu, we wrote down our order: 6 cappuccinos, 1 La Rosalie, 1 Plat du jour (melon et jambon), 2 desserts au chocolat.

The group, with a Frenchman substituting for Marissa.

In our wandering, we had noticed a man who sat on ledges or walked slowly a little ways before sitting on another ledge - and he was always followed by German Shepherd with a little bit of its left ear missing. The man had a thick black beard covering his neck and wrapped himself a large black coat down to his knees. He relaxed on a ledge across the narrow street from us now that we sat outside the cafe, and we admired his loyal dog.

The food, needless to say, was wonderful. This, my friends, was the best cappuccino I've ever had.

Someone in the group looked up "You're the best" in French: "Vous êtes le meilleur."
After we each paid for our order at the counter, we tried our best to tell her, "Vous êtes le meilleur!" Our pronunciation left a confused look on her face, so we pointed to the text. Reading glasses on, she smiled, "Ah!" She said in a mix of English and French that maybe we will come back another day, which we answered with a resounding "oui" and several more "Merci"s as we left.

The man in the black coat and beard sat on top of a short wall, leaning to the side, resting on one arm. At the top of some steps a ten meters over, the dog lay with its paws in front and over to one side.

Up the street, two of our classmates were doing some wandering of their own. We waved them down, sensing another tag-along opportunity because they had left Lacoste a while after we did.
They told us that they had in fact found a shorter route through the middle of the shallow valley. With guides, we began the journey back.

The church in Bonnieux, as seen from a few streets up.

The walk was forty-five minutes on a single-lane road, off to a dirt path passing solitary stone homes with colored shutters and vineyards for backyards, then through a thicket and back up the hill to Lacoste. The day was still damp and overcast, but the diffused light only made the colors richer.

My first Sunday in France has come and gone, leaving me ready to chase more adventures.

Pictures (except the cappuccino) taken by my good pal, Marissa.

First Weekend

2011-09-17T07:02:00.000-07:00

This morning, fog covered the view from my dorm's balcony.

After the kind of breakfast I could get used to — mostly croissants with honey, coffee, and yogurt — we took a short bus ride to Apt, where we explored the open-air market. I didn't want to spend much money (plus not being able to speak French is intimidating), but the lavender and sweaters were tempting.

I took a quick look into La Cathédrale d'Apt. The cathedrals in Provence are high on my list of things to explore.

After leaving Apt, we ate a picnic at Le Pont Julien, which is a bridge built in the first century B.C.

Official SCAD Lacoste orientation is tomorrow. I've heard something vague about being able to take French lessons here, an offer I will accept. On Monday, classes begin.

Bonjour from Lacoste, France

2011-09-16T11:56:00.000-07:00

I have finally arrived and am settled in Lacoste (minus one suitcase, but I've been promised its safe delivery in a matter of days). Tonight is devoted to sleep and a bit of exploring, then tomorrow we're going to a market and picnic in Apt.

This village is magnificent. The views, the balconies, the gardens, the secret gardens, the nooks and caves, the library - oh, the library - are a dream come true. I'm having a hard time believing this is real life.

There are about thirty of us American students total, and we are all jet-lagged. I left home before 9:00 a.m. yesterday, spent a six-hour layover in Atlanta stressed about luggage but determined to soak up as much information about Lacoste from Old Provence as possible. (If you, reader, want to know more about the area I'm in, I recommend A Year in Provence by Peter Mayle.)

The flight overseas was was long and uneventful. Traveling became easier once I met up with a small group of other students.
I will need to learn more French.

Trying to sync up with French time, I stopped for a quick shot of espresso. Having sufficiently burned my tongue, I am ready for my first flavors of France.

Bonjour, mon liseur chéri.

2011-09-09T16:29:00.000-07:00

Hello, my dear reader.
On September 15, I'll fly away to France for ten weeks with fellow Savannah College of Art and Design students. I'll study Documentary Photography, Business and Professional Writing, and Writing About Place. In the few days left, I'm getting ready and trying to read as much of my course books and learn as much French as I can.

This is the notebook I'll use for Documentary Photography class. I collaged it :}

I'm also trying to do some research on the area I'll be staying. If you have recommendations for things to do and see in the south of France — particularly, in Lacoste and in Provence — please share. Paris too, but mostly Provence.
Merci!