Archives from France


May I cut in? by Morgan Burrows

Excuse me, Lacoste,

may I cut in

to your dance?

May I spin you around

and around

till we are both dizzy

with the world?

May I cut in,

to have the time of my life,

swaying eight weeks with you,

to the song of time?


May I cut in?  I hate

to interrupt,

but I’m surely better

than the dance partner

with whom you’re stuck.


I’ll amaze you

with my talented moves,

each stride of my pen,

each stroke of my brush.


And only if I cut in,

will you know who I am…

and you’ll come running after me,

to once again grab my hand.


Lacoste Sand

This will be my last Lacoste Blog.  I know, I can’t believe it either.  The reason my blogs have been so sporadic is because these last few days I could not spend in front of a computer.  I could not.  I had to be outside on my terrace looking across the valley to the stacking squares and rectangles of Bonnieux. 

 Last night my camaraderie with the people here overwhelmed me.  A group of us were sitting at Café de Sad after dinner and it started to rain.  Everyone scooted closer to each other under the outdoor umbrella.  I watched as water bounced in and out of glasses on uncovered tables.  The rain misted the valley so that I could see was randomly placed, glowing lights from homes.  Knives and forks were cleared off of the exposed tables by a waiter who seemed not to care if he got wet.  I would imagine one wouldn’t care if they were hit with Provencal rain drops.  I may always remember sitting and talking with that last group of friends, on the second-to-last night.  My friend Carl talking to me about his dog, Broc, and another dog he was recently forced to put to sleep.  I then thought of the art installation him and Tyler did about the necessity of death, in order to appreciate life.  I thank God for those sorts of conversations I’ve had here.  I’m remembering Sagrada Familla in Barcelona, and its tall towers.  I’m remembering how holy it was, and how holy it made me feel simply by walking inside.  The United States is so close and I’m not sure if I’m ready for it.  I didn’t know this Lacoste sand was going to slip through my fingers so quickly.


Bon Voyage

Today was my last Saturday morning trip to the market in Apt.  I have managed to hop in one of the teachers’ vans every Saturday and go, because it is one of my favorite things to do here, and I wanted to make sure I never missed a day and hopefully saved up enough memories for my return to the United States where there is nothing like Apt’s market.  My roommate Lindsay and I enjoyed our last trip together: our first stop was coffee because we were tired from a late night of Vernissage celebrating last night.  For some reason, my favorite coffee shop in Apt was closed today, but that was all right because it gave Lindsay and I a chance to try something new.  We sat down at a table with two modern wood chairs facing out onto a side street of the extensive market.  A giant, gray awning encapsulating the café in it span shaded us.  We ordered two cappuccinos and took out our purchases from the bakery just before, and I munched on biscotti, sipping my warm coffee, and tried to scan every detail of the market with my eyes: processing, remembering, and being a French girl.  After our energy boost, I helped Lindsay pick out a gift for someone, and I bought a beautiful silver bracelet made from a fork, by a woman who I imagine my friend’s mom: Mimsy Taylor’s sister to look like.  This woman is petit, and her face is sunkissed with freckles.  She is a very talented artist and speaks pretty good English.  I had been eyeing this unique “fork” bracelet for about seven trips, and finally decided to splurge.  Lindsay and I accomplished every mission we had laid out for this trip to Apt, and we peacefully meandered through the crowd of people, slowly walking back to the van, reluctant to leave, but sleepy with satisfaction from our coffee date and purchases.

Last night the Vernissage was amazing.  My love of art galleries made the time go by fast, and I left about half of the exhibition to look at in my free time today.  I may not even have time to see it all, as things are being sold fast, and I love talking to the artists (my friends, can you believe my friends are the artists?...I can’t).  Not far into the first hour of the Vernissage one of my favorite teachers bought one of my pieces.  He bought an ink and watercolor print I did about my interpretation of Paris, it’s called “My Paris.”  The piece includes small sketches of little things unique to my experience in Paris, such as grabbing a woman’s arm in the Louvre thinking it was Marissa, walking alone, having breakfast with Lindsay and sitting with Justin on the Champs de Elysee on the last day.  Professor Boggs said, “it’s whimsical” and perfectly fits the woman he’s giving it to as a gift.  I enjoyed doing finishing touches like playing Jazz music from my computer (thanks Dad, for some great songs) in the Studio where all of the Architecture and Interior Design boards are because it was too quiet in there before and not very welcoming.  I enjoyed walking through the Graduate Student room where they had really entertaining work such as these three personas: Provence, Paris, and Barcelona.  There was a large board printed for each persona with a picture and description of the average Provencal, Parisian, and Barcelonan personality and also a personality quiz we could take to find out which one we were.  I, surprisingly, am Paris.  The graduate students also had cheese, sausage, and fruit hors d'oeuvres, lively music playing, and a “post-it” note wall where we were instructed to draw ourselves as a super hero on a “post-it” note and stick it to the wall.  Afterwards my friends and I got the pizza truck, and then Lindsay and I walked to Bonnieux and back.  It’s interesting how my walks to Bonnieux are always filled with religious conversations, no matter the religious beliefs of the person I am with.  I suppose two hours is the right amount to time to begin to express feelings on faith.  Now I am in the Library, all dressed up, and about to go out and work the Vernissage once more.  This day should be filled with even more guests, and we have a reception in the studio from 5:00-7:00 pm, followed by a Bon Voyage dinner at Café de Sad.  I am excited, and also sad, that the circumstance of our dinner is “Bon Voyage.”


To the streets

Today at 3:00 pm we will start the Vernissage.  We've stuck nametags to chipboard and I remember putting yellow sticky tack on the back of one nametag, and my tag had to be more than the required five inches at the bottom right of my inking because there was a missing stone on the wall.   The way the art looks on the winding streets of Lacoste is like nothing I've seen before, I'm going to try to get a picture that captures it as best I can.

The power went out in the cafeteria this morning, and cooled us all down before a scorching hot day of running up and down the stone streets to put everything in it's rightful place.  A work by my friend Joshua is already sold, and the Vernissage hasn't even started yet.  Right now everyone is just about finished, corners are being tilted and glass is being wiped.  Some less-prepared people are cutting last minute matte, after lunch everyone will be showering, shaving, and getting glamorous for essentially a presentation of ourselves, and what we represent.  This is the first time some people have ever been in an art show, and what a memorable first time it is.  At this moment, I am inside, out of the sun, recharging before four hours of mingling and smiling on Lacoste's streets. 


Storm's comin', right before a Vernissage

Brie near her favorite spot.

Late in the morning my eyes opened to the sounds of people yelling and bustling outside my window, setting up the Vernissage.  For those of you who don't know, the Vernissage is an art exhibition at the end of each quarter here at SCAD Lacoste.  It is a chance for the students to showcase work they have done here, to tourists and invited professionals passing through the teeny tiny town of Lacoste.  I am signed up tomorrow to "work" in Studio 2, which is the Interior Design classroom.  In Studio 2 all of our Maison Basse projects will be displayed, as well as the other architecture projects dealing with the Quarry of Lacoste.  Ben and I are working the Studio from 4:00-5:00 pm, and it will be our job to keep an eye on things, as well as meet and greet with people and answer any questions that English-speakers have (unfortunately that will only be about one fourth of the questions). 

 Walking down the hill from my dorm I noticed the beautiful weather we had today, making it fun to prance through the streets with my artwork (that's how it felt, I love art shows!) and write my name on little white tags hanging on nails in the stone walls.  I was so excited to learn that if we were quick, we could pick our own spots of where our artwork would go in the Vernissage.  This is very good news, because the way some artwork is displayed, is hanging on the exterior of the stone buildings, and tourists and guests will literally walk through the town, while also walking through our art show (in my opinion, those are the COOLEST spots).  I picked a quaint exterior hallway of stone that Brie says is her favorite part of Lacoste.  Standing in this spot of Lacoste's main street, one can look down the hill and see a medieval portal, as well as the gate to my dorm and the curve that leads to the cafeteria.  And looking up in the other direction one sees a beautiful iron gate and the curve that leads to the Interior Design and Architecture studio.  We are only allowed to hang work on nails that are already in the walls, and so a little white tag hangs on each nail, and the idea is that we come up throughout the day to claim our spot by writing our names on the tags.  I twisted wire on the backs of my frames, fired the staple gun a couple times, and hung my six pieces to see how they looked in their newly selected place.

Later in the day, the beautiful blue sky turned to gray and the air smelled like a storm.  I quickly moved my work inside as we were instructed to do, and my roommate Aimee and I went for coffee at the other café in Lacoste: Café de France.  The storm was still far away, and sitting under a canopy of grapevines at Café de France, Aimee and I watched the storm approach as stacks of smoke rose from small stone ovens in terracotta-topped homes throughout the valley.