At the of the quarter, and my college career, we had a Vernisage for the students. There were photography and writing students so most of the art for sale were gorgeous photographs. I ended up painting some postcards at the last-minute to sell.
A funny little house from one of our day trips.
This was from a day trip to visit Louis Jou‘s studio.
Above is my favorite tree in all of Lacoste.
This is a terrace attached to a classroom. It’s a pretty big testament to my teachers that I paid attention in class.
A view from the Lacoste soccer field, looking up at the Marquis de Sade’s castle. A fitting image to end my watercolor sketch memories on.
In French instead of saying “it’s raining cats and dogs,” they say “Il pleut des cordes,” which directly translates to “it’s raining ropes.” I find it slightly more appealing than imagining animals splattering on the earth.
Anyway, one day it was raining ropes and so, cooped up in my little cave-like residence, I sat in the doorway and drew the courtyard.
(I recommend clicking on the images.)
A week after Paris, we went on a day-trip to Aix-En-Provence. I bought a very fine tip pen and some sweat pants (artist essentials).
Pretending to be one of the boys at Les Duex Garçons, a café where Albert Camus would hang.
A sketch of Cezanne’s studio. Not my favorite artist, but I can admire the man’s windows.
This Bastille Day I give you Sacré-Cœur and my last day in Paris:
I spent my last day in Paris at Sacré-Coeur with some other students. After climbing to the top and looking over all the city we checked out the view from below. The sky was a blue my watercolors could not replicate. A lovely end to our wonderful yet short stay in Paris.
While in Paris I took a train to Versailles and finally tried a macaroon. It was salted-caramel and almost as exquisite as the hall of mirrors.
During a field trip to Fontaine-de-Vaucluse we hiked up to “The Source,” or spring, (pictured below) and then had a short class meeting in the square. The water was very vivid since the river was full of plants that turned it emerald green.
We also went to a museum devoted to Petrarch, a poet who walked the line between pinning for unrequited love and being a major creeper.
At the top of the mountain is Oppede Le Vieux, a little fortress crumbling at its seams. After painting this I climbed around and explored the remaining structures with some other students. I hope I look this pretty when I am old and falling apart.