le sketch du jour: the train schedule, little mouse, une fête de coutume.

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Hank wore a BOZO wig and danced w/ all the girls and put his hands clear on their ASSES!!

June 27, 1980.

Woke at 10:00. to more freezing rain. Ran anyway (4 1/2) in freezing rain. Hot water deal was broken :(. Froze.

Lunch -some paté thing. french frîtes & great spinach!! Yaourt & fruit.

Went downtown at 3:00 to l’autogare to find out train schedule. I’m taking a train that leaves at 10:00 PM at night and arrives at 7:00 AM.  I take a 7:30 train from Morzine to another town that train leaves from. [sorry grammar] Then in Paris, I’ll take a taxi to hotel.

[I went with KU French Language Department as I was a French minor, but I left the group early. I was studying with Parsons School of Design/NYC au musée des arts décoratifs in the Louvre. The two courses we took were a History of Decorative Arts and Urban Planning of Paris.  The history of decorative arts was all about French periods of design as they related to political and social context.

Ex. of Decorative Arts Study:  French armchairs from earliest kings to present, tapestries, history of bone china to Limoges, quimper, motifs like folle nappe (folded napkin), swags, boulle dressers, etc. etc. etc. Basically, everything you wanted to know about antiques and roots of interior design.

Ex. of Urban Planning Study:  from Roman catacombs below Notre Dame to Haussmann’s Boulevards. About halfway through the trip, I lost my carte d’orange and didn’t want to buy another. So, I walked these Avenues and experienced Haussmann’s Paris on foot. As well, the running allowed me to experience many parts of the city within a reasonable 6 mile distance from city core.]

Class at 4:00 to 5:30-Tea.

Cindy & I planned trip ’til dinner.

[we were all getting our groups together to travel the last two weeks of the summer in August after we were through with our school in Paris. Cindy Bean, who I knew from the Theta House, and I were going to Madrid, Toledo, Barcelona, and a beach town called Blanes in Spain].

Dinner is at 8:00 & is a costume party!!  We have a present for Jeannie, the bus driver!

[he was the sweetest man and put up with us. He also seemed to drink quite a bit of wine in our picnics along the road as I remember back. At the time when we were in high school, this was common practice. Drinking and driving, that is. But as I reflect, he was in a position to be responsible for a whole busload of American college students. Again, liability issues, especially in France at that time, were not an issue].

I have a new name given to me from the cook’s helper.  It is mouilleté or something like that. The word is German for “a little mouse.”

[I think I am confused here and couldn’t remember what he’d said.  The German word for little mouse is “mausa” and the translation for mouilleté is a) soldier or b) finger of bread eaten with a boiled egg.  Maybe I was feeling militantly angry with all this rain].

Costume party was a riot.

All different kinds of people in this group, all dressed up, all drinking & going out! I wished Marthe or mom or Robb or someone to be here that would see the humor in this situation!

[I am not a fraction as much fun as I would be now in this situation, very cautious. I don’t know why, because I was pretty wild in high school. I think it was just an internal safety thing for me being around people where I knew nothing about anyone’s background, family, especially with all the alcohol, probably good my binge drinking shoes had for the most part been hung up.]

I wore my green putter pants with green cotton sweater & leaves on my head.  I wore a sign that said “haricot vert.”  There was a punk rocker & a hunchback, a Dolly Parton, homosexual in drag (the bartender at the Auberge).

Amy was a hula girl, Ginna-Liza Minnelli [Getto-Kappa], & Cindy [Bean-Theta]-a Heidi.

Hank wore a BOZO wig and danced with all the girls and put his hands clear on their ASSES!  I couldn’t believe it.  Of course, they let him but he is married w/ 2 little kids!

 

 

 

le sketch du jour: nude Frenchman, le lac de montriond, lady in nickers, Annecy. June 25 & 26, 1980.

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Paula: "Excusez-moi." nude Frenchman: "Bon."

I think I forgot something in my sketch, must have blocked it out of my mind.

I remember being a bit shocked. But, I didn’t want to seem rude, so I just proceeded to the shower.

I wonder if I left on my shorts? Like when we used to wear shorts under our dresses so we could play on the jungle gym without the boys seeing our underpants. And yes, in the Graves family we called them underpants, not panties.  Sorry to all those boys without sisters who can’t imagine girls using such a utilitarian word.

Wed. June 25, 1980.

woke up late-breakfast.

RAINING.

Ran at 11:00 (3 miles)- shower*

*there is a new guy here with a big Afro hairdo. encountered him NUDE doing his wash when I headed into the shower room today! I said “excusez-moi” & he just smiled and said, “bon.”

Went to town, bought socks.

[the cold is really starting to get to me. this is when I adopted my european look of wearing knee high socks with sandals which continued with short socks well into my twenties. this was not the norm at that time as it is now.]

At 5:00, had tea & chocolate.

5:30- went to Le Lac Montriond-green lake in the mountains made from melted ice that falls from Alps. The melted ice makes the water green.

Went higher up to a little tiny mountain town, Chamonix.  Goats run around all over in hills and on the roof of this house with a dog that tends them. Very cold-about freezing. [my handwriting is very shaky here, so I must also be freezing]

Snow and tops of the Alps can be seen.  Few houses, but those there are built into the ground.

dinner/potage, pork chops, creamed potatoes, salade verte, apple tarte patisserie

June 26, 1980.

Woke at 10:00!! Raining per usual.

Decided to run to Le Lac Montriond.

I was lost (went wrong way) for about 2-1/2-3 miles, so by the time I had returned, I’d run a little over 10 miles.

Met a woman on the way up to the lake who was darling!  She said “Vous êtes jeune et bronzée et de bonne santé” or something like that (young, brown & healthy).  She asked if I was running to the lake and if I was staying at the Auberge.  She was from Paris & knew the owners of the Auberge. Very cute-was about 55 and had on knickers & knee socks & sweater & hiking boots.

Arrived back at Auberge just in time to catch the bus leaving for Annecy.  Stopped to picnic en route (roast pork, baguettes, tomatoes, oranges, chips).

RAIN!!

Raining in Annecy, but it is a really neat town.  It is on a lake and there is a big, long stretch of park, grass, flowers, benches. We sat in a café ’til it quit pouring & then walked around.

The women there were really pretty. It really was noticeable-much more beautiful than in the smaller towns.

There was a cute little bakery with a big crowd around it that smelled heavenly!!  We walked by it & waited to see what the crowd was (mostly Parisians) for.  A fresh, hot batch of little pie-like things had just finished baking & the people were waiting for a warm one.  Nixie bought one, and they were like little cheesy-eggy quiches.

Things like that, I’m really going to miss.

Returned to Morzine.

Cous-cous for dinner-I can take it or leave it-

mutton

chicken w/ vegetables

grit-like stuff

le sketch du jour: Hank, the swiss man’ish man; George, the former tennis instructor from l’hôtel du Cap; some menu descriptions. June 23, 1980.

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Alex, from Dottikon, Switzerland.

Hilmer, Sweden.

Because there are no sketches and no travels within this sketchbook journal entry,  I’m starting off this post with a good visual of two European men. I have a vivid picture of both Hank and George kind of blended into a very masculine Swiss-French athletic what I thought to be older man. Sometimes he has hair, sometimes he does not. I even get these two men and their names mixed up within this journal entry.

But, I could not find a picture of a Swiss man doing calisthenics on the internet, so this is where I landed. I started with men in 50s (see below), but then upped it a bit. I had to look in both Sweden and Switzerland dating services to get even close to the look, but basically they’re both nordic or celtic or something, aren’t they? Anyway, I have another young Frenchman I’m going to market along with two bachelor cowboys, so I thought I’d just throw them in the mix. They both are widows and they both are Taurus’s which I thought was interesting.

Mon. June 23, 1980.

J’ai reveillée at sept heures (7:00 am) and went downstairs to run. Hank (the athletic) one was downstairs in gym shorts & tennies kicking around his legs and looking very swiss-man’ish.  He is very tan with a little hair that is sort of grey-white.  He stopped his exercising long enough to demander où je vais (ask me where I’m going).  I told him & asked him about a good 6-mile route (after taking about 5 minutes to figure out 6 miles in kilomètres!).  He drew me a map which was great, although I still l’était perdue (lost it) before I’d even left the Auberge.  It was drizzly & grey, but still so pretty!  You can hardly see the Alps because of the fog.

I returnedd for petit-déjeuner (café, et un morceau de pain avec beurre).  Today I helped in the kitchen, but it is very difficult to understand because

1) they tease you

2) they act like they can’t undersatnd if you use the “vous” (formal-what we’re taught to use in school) form to address them.

Shower after breakfast & now I’m writing. None of the magasins [stores] sont ouverts [open]  aujourd’hui, so it’s basically a letter-writing-reading day.

[I think the Geneva trip activated the immediate gratification shopping chemicals. These had been dormant after first part of trip when I was occupied with history, buildings, and sketching. Then again, there were not really architecturally significant buildings I can remember in Morzine. It’s like a resort town].

For lunch we had this crudités salad thing and …Rabbit (lapin)!!  [attention Ginna Getto].  It was very good-sort of a white meat. It was served with little white potatoes w/ brie and fruit for dessert.

We had a phonetics lesson at 3:00 in the bar-café.  I’m with the advanced students.  Pretty interesting.

More reading & letter-writing.

Dinner at 7:15.  Pizza that looked good but different, real tomatoes and stuff on it.  After dinner, I talked with George who I thought was the cook, but was not.  He is a tennis instructor at a school & also at a hotel on the French Riviera.  (The School is in Antibes & the hotel is the l’Hôtel du Cap d’Antibes which is the hotel where Hemingway, Fitzgerald..maybe Murphy’s…[the other couple that were in Kevin Kline’s de-lovely Cole Porter movie] hung out in the 30s).  He was very interesting, on vacation, and un petit peu fou [crazy], je pense, but very nice.

To bed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

le sketch du jour: arrival in Morzine and evidence that I did know who Led Zeppelin was.

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June 22, 1980. Morzine, France.

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tTaOvzZKRxA[/youtube]

Look!  I did know who Led Zeppelin is, it’s right here in my French sketchbook.  So, here’s a few excerpts…

Ran at 7:00 (2 3/4 miles). We left at 8:30. Drove ’til 11:00. Stopped at a Romanesque Cathedral Paray-le-Monail. Town is very pretty with river and flowers and lots of green grass.

Picnic’ed for lunch.  Stopped in various towns on way to Morzine. Drove through outskirts of Geneva. Many people live in Geneva but live in France.  This way they are able to make swiss money which is good but have a French cost of living (Geneva is very expensive).

Arrived in Morzine at 7:00. Sunny and darling little town. Looks like Aspen only the original instead of U.S. interpretation of an Alpine Resort.  Lots of little cottage-type swiss places.

Dinner at 7:30. Delicious! Boef Bourguignon avec des nouilles (noodles), le potage (thin celery soup), le pain, la salade verte, et une petite tasse de glace chocolat with a darling little cookie. It was very pretty!

 

Amy Adams, from Julie and Julia. "Oh, Julia, you make it sound so simple."

 

I have made Julia’s boeuf bourguignon and it is worth every step.

There is a bar downstairs at this Auberge de Jeunesse where everyone sits around & watches some Athletic thing on tv. [note attention to details of specific sport has not improved, but I’m thinking this time of year it might have been Wimbledon? at least I capitalize Athletic to give importance] Dinner was served in another room on long wooden tables.

George (an older-looks Swiss man very athletic-looking) is the head chef and two younger guys, Dénis and another who I don’t know the name of.  Hank is the owner and Mary Anne is his wife.  They are about 30. Mary Anne plays Led Zeppelin in the A.M. about 8:00!! [and it was this song, I utubed and listened to a few and this was it so now I know the name, Kashmir] They speak French and German.

This shows you the difference between different Auberges. They were both only 20 francs ($5) but this one is so nice.  I’m in a room with Sharon & Nixie. Sharon just graduated form KU in graphic design & Nixie will be a senior at CU.  We have a sink et la W.C. is across the hall.  The showers are downstairs but there is lots of hot water & a washing machine. Bonsoir! [Can you see how happy I am with the hot water and bathing and washing facilities?]

 

 

 

 

 

le sketch du jour: Chateau de Chambord. June 18, 1980.

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Chateau de Chambord. Francis I country house and hunting lodge. north façade.

My sketchbook notes were minimal, so these are my thoughts with a little help from Louise Gardner’s 7th edition. Here’s some background on the owner and creatives…

After a divided 15th c., France was under leadership of strong kings. She became aggressive with her Italian neighbors, taking the artists Leonardo and del Sarto into court first.  The Renaissance artists  didn’t make a mark in France.  But, later Florentine Mannerists implanted Italianate style which finally overtook the French Gothic. The religious art of the Middle Ages was superseded by glorification of the King. Here’s the guy…

rumor has it "The merry monarch was a great lover and hero of hundreds of gallant situations." Louise Gardner.

Jean Clouet, Francis I. Tempera and oil on panel. Louvre.

Certainly captured the twinkle….

“The personal tastes of Francis and his court must have run to an art at once suave. artifical, elegant, and erotic.” Louise Gardner.

Italian Mannerists Rosso and Primaticcio assembled  the art crew (School of Fontainbleau) for Francis I palace combining painting, fresco, imitation mosaic, and relief stucco sculpture.  Look it up if you need a day trip from Paris, (Venus Reproving Love, Gallery, some frontal) but I liked this house better.

So, a guy’s gotta have his lodge, built near a forest to commune (hunt) with the animals. Being a meateater, I have no problem with this. Someone has to do the dirty work.

“It has been said of Francis I that his one obsession besides women was building.” Louise Gardner

So back to Chambord.

Plan by a pupil of Giuliano da Sangallo.

I’ve oriented the plan like my sketch. Do you think the head architect Giuliano was getting a little grey behind the ears?  or it he’d just gotten fed up and said “you deal with him”?  Well, it’s a service industry and the well-paying customer is generally lead to be thought that he’s right.  And he is, in my opinion, pretty-much  right-on in this  collaboration. The ordered Italianate Renaissance banding on the bottom and earthy French Gothic Turrets, dormers, chimneys and lanterns on top  are quite the sexy couple.

I remember standing within the very center of the square block. The broad central staircase to the upstairs was marble and amazing. It kind of reminded me of the stairs at the Nelson from the lower level by Atkins auditorium to the bookstore. I’m having  a flashback because Gina and I used to race the twin staircases while Ginny worked the education wing.  That is, until one of those guards more frightening than the Duane Hansen caught us.

Anyway, we couldn’t go upstairs at that time, so I went out to sketch.  I sketched by “le snack bar”, albeit tasteful and serving wine, then just west of the chateau. We did get to go up to the roof.  It reminded  me of something but I haven’t quite put my head around it.   Edward Scissorhands castle or some celluloid collage I have in my head.

 

 

History of the French Sketchbook, 1980. En anglais.

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Au marche

I went to school at the Museum of Decorative Arts in Paris with Parsons School of Design, New York City in 1980.  But, it wasn’t necessary to take French for the School of Art and Design at KU.  After five years of Madame Honig (Indian Hills) and Madame Speidel (Shawnee Mission East), I decided that I was not going to forget those words and I took French classes all my semesters at KU.

I went with the French Department at KU with the French students with whom I traveled for two weeks (chateaux of the Loire Valley, la cathedrale of Bourges, Morzine in the French Alps, Chamonix) staying in youth hostels.  Three days before they departed for the French Alps for Paris by bus, I had to be at school at the Louvre because the students from New York were arriving in Paris, and I took the train by myself during the night.

A woman of a certain age plus twenty years took me under her wing et told me to take care to stay far from the dark men of Paris. It was useful advice for the entire summer (it’s just my opinion, but I think that the French have never embraced the words politically correct, particularly not a country whose metro signs said “give your seat to the mutilated of the war.”) I love the French.

After the summer in France, I dreamed in French.

And after I moved away (withdrew) in my head and to the country, I dreamed (yearned) of France.

When I went running on the Cimarron River, I dreamed of my running route on the banks of the Seine by the Louvre.

When I made homemade baguettes for the cowboys (too funny, a woman who bakes…there is not even a word in French for bakes, much less, bread) I daydreamed of the bakery on rue du bac near l’hotel Cayre on le Boulevard Raspail where I lived that summer.

France, I dream of you still.

Here is my book of that summer, the food, the buildings, the people, the strange men, the professors, my epicerie (like a deli with artichokes), the boulevards of Haussmann, and the stories of that summer when I was able to be a young French girl from Kansas. With only myself, but never alone.

And now, my French friends have returned to me in Kansas.

 

L’histoire du livre des dessins, 1980, en francais

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Pour votre securite, ne prenez pas des photos de l’auto. Gorge du loup. photo, Paula Graves Adams

Je suis allée à l’école au musée des arts décoratifs à Paris avec Parsons School of Design, NYC l’été de 1980. Mais, il ne faut pas prendre le français pour l’école de dessin à l’université de Kansas. Après cinq ans de Madame Honig et Speidel au lycée, j’ai décidée que je n’est pas allée oublier les mots et j’ai pris les classes françaises tous les semestres  à KU.

Je suis allée avec le département français à KU avec les étudiants du français avec qui j’ai voyagé pour deux semaines (les chauteaux au vallée de la Loire, Bourges, Morzine, Chamonix) restant aux auberges de jeunesses. Trois jours après qu’ils se sont départis des alpes français de Paris à l’autobus, j’ai eu être à l’école au louvre parce que les étudiants de New York etaient arrivés à Paris, et j’ai pris le train avec moi-même pendant la nuit.

Une femme d’un certain âge plus vingt ans prendre moi sur s’aile d’oiseau et dites-moi de prendre soin de rester loins des hommes noirs de France :). C’etait des conseils très utils pour tout l’ète (c’est seulement mon opinion, mais je pense que le français n’embrasserai jamais des mots politiquement correcte, pas un pays où le métro a dit “donnez votre chaise aux mutilisées de la guerre.”). J’aime le français.

Après l’été de France, j’ai rêvé en français.

Et après que je m’éloignais dans ma tête et au pays, j’ai rêvé de la France.

Quand j’ai fait du jogging au rivière Cimarron, j’ai rêvé à ma route aux bancs de la Seine par le Louvre.

Quand j’ai fait des baguettes pour les cowboys (trôp drôle, une femme qui bakes…il n’y a pas de mot en français!!! un peu moins du pain) j’ai rêvé tout éveillé de la boulangerie sur la rue du bac près de l’hôtel Cayré au boulevard Raspail ou j’habitais cette été.

La France, j’ai rêvé de toi toute la nuit.

Voila mon livre de cette été, la nourriture, les bâtiments, des peuples, les hommes étrangers, les professurs, mon épicerie, les boulevards, et les histoires de cette éte quand je pouvais être une jeune fille française de Kansas. Avec seulement moi-même, mais jamais seule.

Et maintenant, mes amis françaises sont retournées à moi à Kansas.

note: C’est tout en français pour maintenant jusque mes ingénieurs de website installent un plug-ins dans wordpress parce que les accents prendre plus longtemps.  A bientôt…

 

 

 

Don’t fence me in….

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I told somebody recently that if you’ve got your mind, you don’t ever have to be bored anywhere. I take it back, too much to think about in there, out there in those wide open spaces.

I’m afraid I have to go to town and maybe I’ll be bored for a while, take a break from the way I’ve been using the gray.  You can get lost in there with too many speeding tickets and maybe lose your license…

Jack Adams

Cowboy take me away...set me free hope I pray...closer to heaven above....John Graves Adams horseback.

in there, out there in those wide open spaces.