Overdue

I finally found a moment to get some photos up in hurr. I dedicate this entry to Zak Engel, who has pushed for pictures from day one. Viva La Blackberry Camera. Enjoy!

Sunrise at the Eiffel Tower

Paris on strike

The products here are a bit different...

...for example, sometimes they serve wine in baby bottles.

So creepy fun, the Catacombes.

Every church has made me cry.

My adorable friends at a bookstore!

Loire Valley - it was kinda like going to Nirvana.

They don't hate all things American.

Murakami 1

Murakami 2

Murakami 3 - outside

Well, I just really loved going to Belgium.

More to come at a later date. For now, Happy Halloween!

Chilling Art and Chilly Weather

It's almost 11am and I am still in bed. Could it be because I don't have work today? Possibly. Could it be because I'm just tired? Possibly. Is the most probable option that I've been having nightmares every night for about a week, thereby waking up every few hours, resulting in no good night's sleep ever? Bingo. Last night was clearly a win.

Two extremely disturbing, yet interesting art exhibits attended. Allow me:

1. The museum that is attached to the Eglise Val de Grace. I went there with my friends for class, and nobody else was there. I mean, it was a ghost town. The building that the church is located in is apparently equal parts school, church, and museum. This was news to me. Because we were the only people in the building, the gentlemen who worked there followed us around eventually pointed us in the direction of their museum once we were finished looking at their church. Lucky us.
Well, let's see... The museum used to be a hospital that was primarily used during WWII. Interesting enough? But the way it was set-up was utterly unsettling, because everything was made to look just a little too much like it used to. For example, there was a fake mortuary with actual petrified human heads underneath sheets on beds. The beds were suspended by these gold bars, and when we walked in, there just so happened to be a super creepy employee there... in costume, wearing scrubs. The rest of the museum has exact replicas of what happened to people's faces during the war, (for example, if a man got half his cheek blown out), and the kind of reconstructive surgery they'd do to fix it. It was all very morbid and sad, but the art show I went to last night might top that...

2. Sophie Calle at the Palais de Tokyo. Long story short, Sophie is a young artist and throughout her life, her mother kept asking her why she wasn't ever the subject in her daughter's artwork. This upset her mother deeply, I gathered. So when her mother got sick and subsequently died, Sophie decided to film her mother's death. Her mom, still conscious and not quite done yet, understood that her daughter was finally putting her in her art, leading to the moment before she died, when her final word to her child was "Finally."
So, the footage of her mother's death is at this exhibit, and it's pretty much as charming as it sounds. She enters into rigor mortis at one point, which is apparent when the nurse takes her pulse on both her neck and her wrist. Other parts of the museum included a few photos from Sophie's trip to the North Pole, a journey she took after her mom passed away because it was somewhere that her mother always wanted to go, but never did.

So, it's been a charming few days. I'm leaving for Brussels tomorrow morning. If I hear one more person say "Oh, Brussels is nice, but Bruges is really where you should go", I'll cry. I wanted to go to Bruges all along, but it's hard to convince large groups to go there, apparently. I'm still looking forward to the trip. Maybe we'll even have enough time to take a day trip to Bruges, who knows. Otherwise, I've been trying to research in hopes that our literal 48 hours spent there isn't a total bust. At least we always know there's good chocolate. And beer. Cheers!

Days Go By

I think it's safe to say that Paris has skipped fall and we've just arrived at winter. It's just about Lake Forest, IL cold here, and that's really saying something. Time to buy a coat.

Despite the frosty weather, this weekend proved to be exciting and fun. Yesterday, Jillian and I journeyed to Versailles, a place she has already visited twice, but was entirely new to me. For both of us, however, the current Murakami exhibit inside the grand chateau was a new experience. Starting in September and running until December, Japanese artist Takashi Murakami, perhaps best known in the United States for his album artwork for Kanye West's CD "Graduation", has an absolutely incredible exhibit on display in several rooms on the second floor of the Versailles estate, as well as one sculpture in the garden outside. There were about 16 pieces in total, and I can't wait to finally be able to upload photos (again, my apologies). In Murakami's words, his artwork for the famous mansion is supposed to make us, the audience, Alice and he, the Cheshire Cat, allowing him to show us the magic and mystery of Versailles, or Wonderland. Each sculpture is colorful, creative, and complete visual overstimulation. They are also incredibly modern, which serves as both a juxtaposition to Versailles itself, but they also support the elaborate and ornate decorative aspect of the interior decoration in the rooms in which the sculptures stand. There was even one sculpture that was co-created by musical singer/producer Pharrell Williams; the sculpture, titled "The Simple Things", was a a large, ovular monster-head with an open mouth, showing fangs and a colorful tongue-throat area. Atop the monster's tongue sat a pink tray which held crystal-encrusted models of the following: a cupcake, a Heinz ketchup bottle, a Pepsi, a Johnson & Johnson shampoo bottle, a bag of Dorito's, a Nike sneaker, and a condom. Perhaps y'all should use Google for images. It was a true spectacle.

In other news, work is still continuing to challenge and excite me. As weird it is, October is almost over and soon I'll be making the hour and 20 minute commute to Palaiseau (a small city-suburb outside Paris) to attend play rehearsal every day. I'm overjoyed...
Paris still hates work; on Wednesday, my class and I couldn't get into a church for a field trip because the strike is still going on and nobody showed up for work that day. Surprise, surprise.
Next weekend, I leave for Brussels. To add to the recent excitement of trips and visits, I've just found out that my dear friends who are studying in Scotland, Florence, and Prague will be coming for 4 days in November for my birthday. I get jazzed every time I think about it.
I saw "The Social Network" and am now obsessed. G'head and see that soon if you haven't already, please.
The smell of winter and dead leaves is making me homesick, but I think that's only because Lake Forest has the most beautiful fall season I've ever seen.

So, Happy Sunday, people at home. It's the best day of the week.

The Excitement Heard Round the World

Another magnificently beautiful fall day in Paris. Seriously, if you ever travel to France, make sure to come during this time. The smell of fallen leaves and baking bread alone is enough to make you want to stay outside forever.

Who is ready for excellent news? My friends and I have just booked a weekend to London in November for the opening of the seventh "Harry Potter" movie. I know, I know, maybe not as exciting for you. But for someone who shamelessly lived and breathed (and still does when certain occasions like this arise) Harry Potter for a good ten years while the books were current, this is unlike any excitement I've had. What is more is that some of my friends from home will also be there for the very same reason. Furthermore on that note, these same friends will be journeying to Paris the weekend before my birthday to celebrate. It's times likes these when you realize how lucky you are to be on such a small continent. Europeans have got it made when you have friends spread out. For now, though, my next big thing is Brussels - one weekend from the 23rd-25th. Part of me was afraid I wouldn't make the effort to travel much outside of Paris once I got here, but it's easy, (usually) cheap, and such fun.

In other news, things are good. Paris and I have sort of made up. Once my week of extreme distaste and hatred for this population of people passed, I remembered to keep my feelings in perspective and not dwell on the fact that France can be rough, (as if I couldn't have expected that?). There are so many great things coming up, which also makes me take note of how quickly the time is flying. No use pouting now.

Work has continued to be an interesting and fulfilling experience. On Thursday, Andrew and I are going around Paris to film different outdoor spots; the footage will be used as the projection on the back wall of the set for the upcoming show. I like his hands-on attitude, and I feel blessed to be so welcome into their community. This is when being an "art" person creates guilt though. My other friends here are interning at offices, where they spend most of their time licking envelopes and doing what normal interns do. The advantage of having a passion for something that requires filming footage of a child's playground or a graffitied subway tunnel versus sending email blast after email blast makes it hard to discuss work with the others in my program, since all I seem to hear after describing work is "You bitch." I didn't choose it, though. It really chose me.

Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da

 October 10th already. What do you know about that.

To be perfectly honest, I don't know what to say this morning. Since I wasn't asked to go to work for the rest of last week after Monday, I did what any normal person would do. A few museums, personal walking tours, and eventually waiting for my friends to get out of work. I do have work this week though, which means I can finally feel productive again. That's the thing about this program. Yes, you work hard and it's frankly more emotionally and physically taxing than it is academic, but what happens when we go back to school? I won't have written an actual essay since May and my homework won't only consist of French grammar and mini-questionnaires about the sites/museums we've been to in order to ensure Maria that we were listening during her lecture.

I'm going to make this entry a short one, because although I could have things to rattle about, sometimes it's best to quit while you're ahead. One thing that I have been meaning to post here, however, is a list I've been keeping of American film titles that were poorly or funnily translated into French. So far it's only a few:

1. Youth in Revolt - Be Bad!
2. Grown-Ups - Friends for Always
3. Going to the Distance - Too Far For You
4. Despicable Me - Me, Beastly and Mean
5. Step Up 3D - Sexy Dance 3

Happy Sunday, everyone.

The (Temporary) End of the Affair

Paris and I are in a fight. Maybe it's just me, but we're going through a rough patch these days. Let me break it down for you: I feel invaded. Invaded because Paris always wants something from me, and my answer to everything this city and its God forsaken people seem to offer me these days is no or stop. No, you cannot walk right behind me while I go through the turnstyle at the Metro because you "forgot" or "lost" your Navigo; No, you cannot have a cigarette; No, you cannot run me over with your rolling-fabric-grocery-bag-suitcase, even if it is good for the environment; Stop thinking your day is more important than mine and not moving over when we are walking towards each other on the same part of the sidewalk, (WHY am I the ONLY one who moves?); No, I do not want to kiss you or otherwise engage in physical contact with you; No, if you ask more than 50 times, it still won't work; Stop thinking that if you ask in 8 different languages, I'm bound to understand one of them and agree - it's still a no; Stop asking me if I can move so that you can sit next your boyfriend or girlfriend on the subway and make out; For the love of God, PLEASE STOP asking me for money because I too am poor and this is the world's most expensive city. Why don't you move to a cheaper area where you don't need to fill a quota of collecting 4 euros a day just so you can afford a cup of coffee; No, I do not want to come into your restaurant, no matter how much you beg as my friends and I walk by; Stop putting roses in my face and telling me they're free. I just saw you say the same thing to someone else, have her take one, and then say "So, that'll be 1 euro please"; Stop being lazy assholes who hate work so much that your restaurant, cafe, bookstore, or clothing store is never open; Stop being lazy assholes so that the Metro runs later than 1am because I do not want to walk around Paris until it opens again at 6am, (I mean, on a weekend, really, why are you closed so early?!); Just stop.

So, these are the ways in which Paris and I are breaking up for the time being. We'll be back in action soon, I'm sure, but for now, I'm tired of feeling crowded. Paris, back off.

On a much, much lighter note, I finally met with my boss(es) this morning. I was asked to come to the home of Andrew and Annie Wilson, a married couple who started a theatre company outside Paris 20 years ago. They live in Malakoff, a suburb right outside Paris, and it looked easy enough to find... Until I got off the Metro. And subsequently got lost. And subsequently made a hopefully momentary bad first impression. Once we were all finally settled into their delightful little house drinking espresso, they presented me with the idea behind their company, what they've done in the past, how they see it going in the future, and finally, what will I do? Well, for the month of October, I'll be doing research. Rehearsals for their new production don't start until November, so until then, I'll be gathering info for the piece. This means things like reading the play, meeting with them and expressing my point of view on the characters, researching for the costumes, music, etc., etc. In November, Andrew seems pretty keen on having me as a pseudo-stage-manager-type, a kind of job he's never thought to find someone to fill before. I walked away feeling very excited, and I think they're excited too. It was interesting hearing about what theatre is like in Paris - cause apparently it ain't much. Again, we go back to the not working thing; to be considered an "actor" here, you could get a job as a waitress at Euro Disney and as long as you were wearing a wig, you're there. It's about hours and the time commitment, not about actually acting. It's very strange, and appears to be an entirely unsupported community. This is why Andrew and Annie's company is so great. They have sold out almost every performance they've ever put on because there's nowhere else to see shows around here. They have a strong fan base, and I'm all kinds of overjoyed to be working with them. My answers to all of the things they ask me for is yes. Good sign, eh?