And I'm dreaming of a place
Where I could see your face
And I think my brush would take me there
But only...
If I were a painter...
As it so happens, I am not. Case in point: this masterpiece: (side note: is it okay to do colons within colons? how about colons within parentheses within colons?)
While this is, obviously, a piece of crap that I am only sharing in order to fulfill my weekly commitment, I should probably explain that I am only partially responsible for its crappiness, the rest of the blame falling on my classmates and André Breton. The theme of yesterday's class was surrealism and our activity was this: flip to a random page in a book, find a word that appeals to you, think about it, let your mind wander, let your paintbrush/pencil wander, produce art. If this sounds vague and confusing to you, imagine trying to understand it in French. Apart from the general goal of the activity, I also failed to understand that once we felt we'd done all we could with a painting/drawing, we were supposed to trade with a classmate. I wish I had realized this sooner--it was not until my teacher caught me trying to clandestinely tear off the ugliest portion of my paper that I became aware of the getting-rid-of-it option. In the end, the painting only got uglier (can you spot the centipede?) and somewhat Asian, but at least I didn't have to look at it for two hours.
On a different note, I had my first real Sciences Po oral presentation today. It wasn't the greatest thing ever, but my partner and I managed to merit something approaching a compliment from our humorless professor, so I count it as a victory.
I also got a job today! Who says immigrant labor is a bad thing?
Amsterdam this weekend. Will take pictures and (yes, MOM) send postcards.
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