Ah, the week! It has been truly spectacular so far. And its pretty much all thanks to a wonderful kick-start of a Sunday.
After a small post-Thanksgiving leftover feast followed by a movie in English (the title I am too embarrassed to mention by name), and a small sleepover (holler back 6th grade), finally came Sunday. Not only did I finally discover where France hides its raw milk (with the rest of the refrigerated goods, who would have thought?), but I became more familiar with what they classily call“La Salon des Vins” or more appropriately “One Great Excuse to Get Drunk Off Your Ass for 3 Euros all Weekend Long.” So here's the deal: one ticket, 6 euros, good for two people. I suppose they have made one ticket good for two, so WHEN you black out or start a drunken riot the odds are greater with two people that one out of the two might have some common sense/reason floating around somewhere. So 3 other friends and myself strolled into the craziness and each pair exchanged their ticket for 2 wine glasses. The crowds pushed us to the exposition halls, which housed thousands of wine stalls, each with at least three wines for tasting. People are everywhere, with their little trolley carts piled with boxes and boxes of wine. These people mean business. HOW DOES THIS EVEN EXIST?
Please, stop here, and use your imagination to re-create this scene in the US. I don't think there is enough barbwire or police force that would be able to control us under this situation. Thank goodness the french are calm. Or what a pity?
and I RESUME: I was very overwhelmed at first, being that normally I need a break after 1 glass, and by the second you can generally find me nestled in the corner by some heater. So I decide to try and put my big girl pants on and taste all of what France's vineyards have to offer. The combination of wine and the french language is always a great one, as I began to try and commence conversations with all of the self-proclaimed wine experts in the showroom. I think they thought I was an amusing subject, so they stuck it through my poor french and humored me with great information about wine. About 10 booths, 4 slurred conversations, 2 hours, and a million puzzles frenchie faces later we come face to face with the cognacs. White flag. I'm waving it. I'm done. I guess those mysterious buckets on the floor were for pouring the rest of your wine into. Hmmm, I guess next time (in March that is) Ill know better. Or maybe, Ill just have the tolerance higher than a 70lb 3rd grader.
It was pretty impossible not to have a great week after this madness. So I...
Bought train tickets for Champagne for Saturday. I meant it when I said I was going to work on my tolerance. I am beginning to develop into quite the serious student.
Met a fellow New Yorker for a drink and chatted over the sustainability practices of France's agriculture. Heaven! At last, normal people... at least in my obscure universe.
Have been re-inspired to pick up my camera again. For some time, I lost the interest in continuing my photography. No matter how much I have tried to reason to myself to pick up my camera in the past, art is not reason. Like most things creative, the paintbrush cannot be pushed to the canvas if you want a truly wonderful byproduct. But now, I am driven to document the visual more than ever. An article, compliments of NPR, reminded me of the“complicated machinations of art: (and its) way of remaking a world.”I think it is the result of not living by means of a schedule; it allows you to actually experience life. At least for me...and its wonderful.
So in short: enjoying life, enjoying not living by a schedule....actually feeling like I'm living.