Tag Archives: france

well i see you as you take your pride-

19 Feb

my lion(ess)

Today was quite magnificent. I don’t believe I’ve done nearly as little as I have today- oh, it was an awesome non-productive eight hours. I am a junior, I relish these things.

Kind of wishing I had some money with which to buy some CDs, but I’m saving it all up for France (assuming I’m accepted) to buy things at that Japanese store on Rue Mouffetard. Onigiri avec thon! I got one during Mini Gusto, Audrey couldn’t stand the smell of tuna in our hotel room but it was SO worth it. Delicious!
I also hope that wherever we stay has a proper shower, not the strange little bath/showerhead combo that was in our hotel. I didn’t figure out how to use it until the fourth day- I took a lot of baths. I like being nice ‘n’ clean.

Well, going to probably do some more redecorating tomorrow, perhaps- maybe I’ll go to the FrameUp and buy some new tubes of acrylic paint (or poster paint) ‘cos the ones I have are dried out and thouroughly unusable. Gonna paint somethin’!
Speaking of painting, the one I’m currently working on is nearly done. I need to retouch the background in some spots and shade the skeleton’s ribs nicely, and then I might do some minor changes at that point.

Gonna do a drypoint after that! I actually really, really like prints. I enjoy both the process of carving them out and actually printing them, but in terms of finished product I like the blocks better. They’ve got more personality or something, I guess.

Will write more either tonight or tomorrow; expect large amounts od midnight drabbles. Cheers!

chez youri

2 Jan

Achat & vente vinyls.
The above is from a shopping bag I got in France, appropriately from a used-record store. It was probably the coolest place I’ve ever bought music from. Basically, there was a giant (seemingly abandoned, as well) building with about forty little flea markety shops stuffed into it. This recod shop was on the second level, tucked away, and the only reason I found it was the jazz music (might have been Dizzy Gilespie; I can’t remember) spilling out gently from the doors. I remember the smell, too- musty, like cardboard left in water then dried slowly.

I want to go back. I want to go back.