France and this opportunity have already had a profound influence on me.
On the first day, I got to go to an incredible theatrical, musical, circus-like show at the central fountain of Aix: la Rotonde. I wrote a diary entry on it, but, after struggling to publish the post, the pictures/ video below should suffice for a good explanation.
On the second day, we went to a short open house for the program. Afterwards, on my walk back to my French homestay, I walked into a group of a few young, French high-school age guys with mini-longboards (Penny boards) smoking in the middle of the street. I went ahead and used broken French to start a conversation. After a few formalities, we talked about life in France from their perspective and about their personal aspirations. One guy wanted to either go into world politics or spend a year traveling the world before settling down.
That evening I went out for dinner crêpes with my good friend Walter and hung out with two pretty cool girls, exploring the city. After walking the girls back to their homestay, Walter and I ended up running into a notably drunk, angst-filled, world-traveling troubadour with whom we had an interesting short conversation. He’d done a tour from the east to the west coast of Canada and frequently traveled between Marseille and New Orleans. He ended our conversation by telling us he was ready to go home and drink himself to sleep. Walter and I ended up wandering into a graffiti alcove before making the trek back and retiring for the night.
The third day we were orientated and I was fortunate to meet:
Charlie, a cool dude who’s been in Aix for a while now who told me about where I could get a knife to make lunches out of the fresh food in the market,
Pauline, this great, super-fun, intelligent young French girl who told us about the hip, young, recreation places in France,
and Alan and John, my art professors who are turning out to be terrific teachers,
among many others.
The art program is going to be fantastic. I have already teared up multiple times in and out of studio thinking about it.
That night, Walter and I went out with a different group and had some fun barhopping, keeping it classy of course. I met some really interesting people who are also part of the IAU program. I’m becoming pretty good friends with some of the people that I met that night.
On the fourth day, the art class started out in the center of Aix where we met to purchase art supplies. There was a market in the adjacent street, so, naturally, I bought myself a very European scarf. That very first day in the studio, we began by figure drawing with an actual nude female model. The model was beautiful and I couldn’t help but tear up a bit at how incredible this opportunity is. The lighting in the room and the striking position of the form were overwhelming, but, I got on to sketching.
I’ve been randomly recalling all sorts of things that I learned in Anatomy while in the studio: muscles and skeletal structure. Visions of my January experience shadowing clinicians in a medical setting and the many procedures and body forms that I observed also have frequently come to view.
That night, we went out again and I eventually ended up in a French club called “la Mirabel.” The social dynamics of the place were perplexing, but I feel as though I sort of started to understand things by the end of the night. The music was very European electronic and trance, so, it was certainly a good time. One girl, Laura, was really fun. She showed me some Tecktonik moves, while I taught her some swing dancing.
The fifth day was brutal for me because of the combination of jet lag and the two nights of French nightlife exploration. I was very much tired. But, as soon as we got into the studio and began drawing my tired eyes and mind illuminated. After the drawing session, we were told that the Aesthetics and Art Criticism course was going to be in a seminar style. I was ready to cry, once more, because of how much enjoyment and personal growth I gained at my one seminar style class at Wofford: Civic Engagement.
I grabbed lunch outside in the beautiful weather with my new friend Kate. I bought carrots, radishes, sausage, a baguette, and some cheese at the “Supermarche Casino” the day before and had plenty to share. Afterwards, we went into town together to do some shopping.
On the way there, we ran into my new skater friends who wear heading out to the skate park with some beers and a Monster energy drink. After a short exchange, Kate and I continued on into the pharmacy as Kate had needed shampoo. I got to talking with the English-speaking saleswoman who gave me a sweet dermatology lesson after I asked her if French men maintained themselves differently than other men. Afterwards, we found an ice cream shop with incredibly rich coffee ice cream. I was done eating after a few bites.
We continued on to buy notebooks at Monoprix, the French version of Target, before Kate and I walked back to our homestays. After saying bye to Kate, I went to sleep for a few hours and missed dinner. My host mom, Delphine, was rather upset about that, but she let me help myself to some salad and cheese—but, “just this one time!”
I watched the French version of the movie “Freedom Writers” on the TV after dinner and, after my host mom and brother retired for the night, I cried from all of my pent up emotion.
I’m overwhelmed with joy for the beauty of this place, which frequently sparks my memories of Ukraine, which I visited as a young child many years ago. Accordingly, the idea of a chance to study art in such a picturesque location carries a strong sense of joy. However, I am also experiencing a strong aura of sadness for the human condition. The flaws of French society, the misjudgments of my peers, and, foremost, the corruptness of myself reveals both a strong corruption in the heart of man and an element of brutality in the natural world.
So, here I am, writing this in my bed, unable to fall asleep but sensing a strong hope underlying everything I’ve thus far experienced and beauty wrapping herself, like French summer light, around every dark corner.
On the first day, I got to go to an incredible theatrical, musical, circus-like show at the central fountain of Aix: la Rotonde. I wrote a diary entry on it, but, after struggling to publish the post, the pictures/ video below should suffice for a good explanation.
On the second day, we went to a short open house for the program. Afterwards, on my walk back to my French homestay, I walked into a group of a few young, French high-school age guys with mini-longboards (Penny boards) smoking in the middle of the street. I went ahead and used broken French to start a conversation. After a few formalities, we talked about life in France from their perspective and about their personal aspirations. One guy wanted to either go into world politics or spend a year traveling the world before settling down.
That evening I went out for dinner crêpes with my good friend Walter and hung out with two pretty cool girls, exploring the city. After walking the girls back to their homestay, Walter and I ended up running into a notably drunk, angst-filled, world-traveling troubadour with whom we had an interesting short conversation. He’d done a tour from the east to the west coast of Canada and frequently traveled between Marseille and New Orleans. He ended our conversation by telling us he was ready to go home and drink himself to sleep. Walter and I ended up wandering into a graffiti alcove before making the trek back and retiring for the night.
The third day we were orientated and I was fortunate to meet:
Charlie, a cool dude who’s been in Aix for a while now who told me about where I could get a knife to make lunches out of the fresh food in the market,
Pauline, this great, super-fun, intelligent young French girl who told us about the hip, young, recreation places in France,
and Alan and John, my art professors who are turning out to be terrific teachers,
among many others.
The art program is going to be fantastic. I have already teared up multiple times in and out of studio thinking about it.
That night, Walter and I went out with a different group and had some fun barhopping, keeping it classy of course. I met some really interesting people who are also part of the IAU program. I’m becoming pretty good friends with some of the people that I met that night.
On the fourth day, the art class started out in the center of Aix where we met to purchase art supplies. There was a market in the adjacent street, so, naturally, I bought myself a very European scarf. That very first day in the studio, we began by figure drawing with an actual nude female model. The model was beautiful and I couldn’t help but tear up a bit at how incredible this opportunity is. The lighting in the room and the striking position of the form were overwhelming, but, I got on to sketching.
I’ve been randomly recalling all sorts of things that I learned in Anatomy while in the studio: muscles and skeletal structure. Visions of my January experience shadowing clinicians in a medical setting and the many procedures and body forms that I observed also have frequently come to view.
That night, we went out again and I eventually ended up in a French club called “la Mirabel.” The social dynamics of the place were perplexing, but I feel as though I sort of started to understand things by the end of the night. The music was very European electronic and trance, so, it was certainly a good time. One girl, Laura, was really fun. She showed me some Tecktonik moves, while I taught her some swing dancing.
The fifth day was brutal for me because of the combination of jet lag and the two nights of French nightlife exploration. I was very much tired. But, as soon as we got into the studio and began drawing my tired eyes and mind illuminated. After the drawing session, we were told that the Aesthetics and Art Criticism course was going to be in a seminar style. I was ready to cry, once more, because of how much enjoyment and personal growth I gained at my one seminar style class at Wofford: Civic Engagement.
I grabbed lunch outside in the beautiful weather with my new friend Kate. I bought carrots, radishes, sausage, a baguette, and some cheese at the “Supermarche Casino” the day before and had plenty to share. Afterwards, we went into town together to do some shopping.
On the way there, we ran into my new skater friends who wear heading out to the skate park with some beers and a Monster energy drink. After a short exchange, Kate and I continued on into the pharmacy as Kate had needed shampoo. I got to talking with the English-speaking saleswoman who gave me a sweet dermatology lesson after I asked her if French men maintained themselves differently than other men. Afterwards, we found an ice cream shop with incredibly rich coffee ice cream. I was done eating after a few bites.
We continued on to buy notebooks at Monoprix, the French version of Target, before Kate and I walked back to our homestays. After saying bye to Kate, I went to sleep for a few hours and missed dinner. My host mom, Delphine, was rather upset about that, but she let me help myself to some salad and cheese—but, “just this one time!”
I watched the French version of the movie “Freedom Writers” on the TV after dinner and, after my host mom and brother retired for the night, I cried from all of my pent up emotion.
I’m overwhelmed with joy for the beauty of this place, which frequently sparks my memories of Ukraine, which I visited as a young child many years ago. Accordingly, the idea of a chance to study art in such a picturesque location carries a strong sense of joy. However, I am also experiencing a strong aura of sadness for the human condition. The flaws of French society, the misjudgments of my peers, and, foremost, the corruptness of myself reveals both a strong corruption in the heart of man and an element of brutality in the natural world.
So, here I am, writing this in my bed, unable to fall asleep but sensing a strong hope underlying everything I’ve thus far experienced and beauty wrapping herself, like French summer light, around every dark corner.
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