Tales of a Traveler: Tuiles au Gingembre

From my friend Heather's blog:

Tales of a Traveler: Tuiles au Gingembre: "My host mom made these the other week and they were delicious! You can add whatever flavorings you want, by substituting the..."

J'ai Dit Quoi de la Nourriture Francaise?

"The Real American Hot Dog"

...It worries me that the Wannabees are moving into street vendor territory. Hopefully this first will be the last I see....

Midterm Critique

We placed all of my paint studies and many of my sketches on the wall. After that, John whittled the selection down to my best works from the semester (pictured below, en masse):

Jacquet

Copy of a Poussin

 

Grace

Jackie

Annika

Arika

James (Alan's son)

Studies of one of Rembrandt's depictions of Abraham preparing to sacrifice Isaac

Painted barefoot. First oil/color landscape.

study

Copy

He said I "have a real feeling" for drawing, a "touch," a "gift." He likes how I've "loosened" up over the course of the semester, and asked if I like Rembrandt. This question made me quite happy. I love Rembrandt and have been thinking about his conceptions of light and dark relations, and how shadows create space/air, since the semester began. He essentially assigned extra work to me for the Venice trip (which begins in less than 48 hours!), by telling me I should plan to do a lot of drawing there - in addition to the 15-30 paintings we're all expected to do. I found all of this highly flattering and inspirational.

In relation to my paintings, he commented on my color harmonies, my lack of a "formula," and how I truly represent the subjects in my middle and later/latest studies. Annika is truly Annika, not just a picture of her. The same goes for the paintings of Jackie and Arika, and especially Grace. He talked about how the paintings of James and Grace are "wild," and how the brushstrokes are so immensely different from each other, but how it still "works." One brushstroke in one painting is completely different from the one that is next to it, which is different than the one next to it. By lack of a "formula" he meant that I approach each subject as I see it, and do not just work by habit. He said he sees a lot of "sustained work," and that my wall of pieces was "beautiful."

YAY.

He also recommended the female impressionist, Berthe Morisot, to me. Did anyone else not know there were female impressionists? Her work is brilliant.

Un Peu Plus

The French do not hug. They really, truly do the "mwah, mwah" thing, though. S'appelle la bise.

Everyone has an electric water kettle. Or, at least both of my hosts have had one.

It's traditional to just bash shoulders. Les piétons français do not move aside. Even if you are on a bike. On the other hand, the pigeons do move - but not until you're almost on top of them, so that they fly in your face. You mark yourself as foreign if you do not jaywalk.

There is a fair number of people here who have dreadlocks or oddly colored hair. Dreadlocks are more popular than color.

Organic food is much easier to find here, and much more popular. The same goes for homeopathic medicine. In every pharmacy there is an entire half devoted entirely to natural remedies. I believe this is mandated by law.

French fast food sucks, and is far from fast. It is common to wait for at least fifteen to twenty minutes at 'Quick'burger. I have never missed Arby's so much as now. Now, let it be known that street vendor food is different from fastfood; vendor food is much speedier and better. Fast food places are wannabe American or Canadian fry places - the names are almost always in English. Speedburger is another one. There are only three or four in the entire city of Aix as far as I've seen, so you can see how popular it is. I still hold that bad food is sacrilege in France. You feel dirty as soon as you walk into such place.

----For the record, I've only eaten at one once when I was desperate. I've simply stood in several lines with Jackie.

Restaurants frequently close between lunch and dinner. Dinner is usually served later in the evening. It's street vendor food or nothing between those times. Or Quickburger.

J'ai Malade

I have decided that becoming sick is my personal way of claiming a foreign country as my own. Or maybe it is the country's way of claiming me. In either case, I am now a little more French. A few months ago I would have been quite displeased about being at all Froggian (Puh French! Yeah, Spanish!), but now I don't think being a bit Provençalian is quite so bad. Besides, this newly acquired French-ness is still tempered by my Guatemalan experience with Montezuma ;)


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