the beginning of a brand new adventure.

as i mentioned in my last post, i lived in ireland for two months. my lease in paris ran out, right when my french student visa expired. i needed a place to live, and to plan, because i wasnt quite ready to return to the states just yet. my friend aoife was up for the challenge. she had recently moved into a three-story house fifteen minutes outside of dublin. she asked her new flatmates, and they agreed i could stay as i long as i pitched in for garbage collection and propane for the stove. i instantly agreed. so i brought my tiny backpack, packed with warm weather paris clothes and showed up on aoifes dooorstep. it was then that she told me the tiny little hiccups: one, ireland was COLD. two, we didnt have a room yet, we were living in the laundry room. the laundry room had one queen bed, an armoir, a washer plus dryer, and literally nothing else, if you dont count the mold and snails that came in from the broken window above the bed. i couldnt complain, i was living there for almost free. but it was a little depressing after the charm of being called 'daz', a form of laundry detergent, wore off.

but the house, and the people in it, were amazing. the rooms (yes, even the laundry room) were large and run down, exactly how i like them. it reminded me of the place i lived while in brooklyn; an artists squat. grafitti drawings, and mural paintings covered the walls. it was a completely inspiring place to be.

it was there that i met lynn macpherson, of salty philip. during my brief time in ireland, i worked under her. i learned a lot working under her and was inspired to finally pursue a career path that i had recently begun mulling about in my head. lynn was a scottish designer, living in ireland, fresh from berlin where she had owned her own shop. lynn made eco-sustainable designs only, something i would eventually like to incorporate. on top of that, lynn was only twenty-four. she had owned two shops, and had a studio i was in awe of. these are some pictures from her photoshoot from her most recent collection. the professional ones can be found on her website, linked above. lynn is the one with an umbrella.

ireland is full of artists doing what they love. granted most of them are on the dole, an irish form of welfare, it is nonetheless inspiring. being around lynn and seeing her working, not only showed me it was possible but got me excited to start my own career in fashion.

being with this girl helped too. in case you dont recognize her, thats kulka from ravelry, her blog here. after blogging back and forth for years, i finally met her last year my first time to ireland. then when i returned, there was no question we would become great friends. she would like to start designing her own knitting patterns and we talked drunkenly for ages of opening an etsy shop. she recently started art school at 25, and is giving me the courage to pursue fashion design school at such a late age.

so that was ireland, two months full of inspiration. that coupled with the inspiration given by spending the last several months with an amateur fashion photographer in paris, has given me the drive needed to pursue fashion school.

i used to think that speaking about something made it less likely to happen, a form of jinxing if you will. but over the past year ive learned that not speaking about things doesnt make your dreams happen or problems go away. in fact, not speaking does just the opposite: that simple act of ommission can make everything worse. it is through facing your problems, asking for help or advice, or even just talking until your head is clear, that accomplishes anything and everything. donc, i am appealing to you, blogging world, to offer me advice, even more inspiration, or to simply be a sounding board for me bounce ideas off of. 

in less than a week, i am moving back to arizona. i need/i want/i have to finish my last semester of university. however, rather than returning to flagstaff, i will be (eep, those dreaded words ever college student dreads to say) living at home and attending the nau phoenix campus.

i have my reasons, more than i would have thought. the least selfish is i really need to be closer to my parents, my sister, and my nephew. i have spent the last eighteen months away from them, and am planning on spending the next three years away as well, while pursuing my next degree.

the more selfish one is that i will save money. i need to save up thousands of dollars before i can move back to europe. granted, my income will be more in europe, but i will have tuition, rent, AND student loans from nau to pay off. living at home while in america allows me to work, and actually save money.

now for my favorite reason, the one i am most looking forward to. my mother is a seamstress who used to have dreams of designing herself before she became a hippie fighting against the vietnam war. and she has agreed to devote the next six months to teaching me everything she knows about sewing, and helping me create my portfolio/application. 

the average fashion school in paris requires a sort of portfolio. they dont look at transcripts of high school or other colleges, they simply look at your work, your innate talent. this works in my favor, as my grades arent exactly shining. (the first time i even encountered the grading system, i was fourteen. after leaving the montessori school i had attended since four years old, i arrived at a public high school and received my first failed math quiz. i havent ever quite adjusted.)

anyways, the portfolio. the portfolio changes from institute to institute, but the most common version is simple. five drawings of original garments, and five photos of those finished garments.

something so simple decides my future. so you bet i am going to work as hard as possible to overcome my slight 'handicaps' and say loud and clear 'i deserve this!' most people who attend fashion school are fresh out of high school and been already making clothes for years. i am certainly not fresh out of high school (going on five years now!), and, if my knitting is not counted, my experience with making clothes through sewing, though existing, is novice at best. (the next few months will fix that!)

  

now, for those of you that are starting to worry, dont. this is NOT becoming a fashion blog. you will not see me posting daily updates of my outift, or anything like that. although, that works for some people and i find it interesting to read, thats not what im interested in doing. i have no desire to be a model, i want to be the one that dresses the model, that designs the clothes, the one in control. speaking of which, i will eventually need a model for my portfolio, if any of you are in phoenix!

so, if any of you have any tips and advice or even funny stories, please let me know! i am going to be upset, disappointed, overworked, and frustrated the next several months. i just know that this is going to be very difficult, returning to america from a year in paris. returning to school after six months break. and knowing now that my future rests solely upon my shoulders.

but honestly, even more than all of that, this is going to be so much fun. i am starting a new adventure, just as this one closes. and i am more than happy to still have you to share it with.

all photo credits: aoife mcgarry

a return, to more things than one.

i cant explain why i havent posted in almost six months, i literally have no reason. every once in a while, i would sit down at the computer and say 'okay, today i will update my blog.' but the words never came quickly enough and before i knew it, i would be distracted and onto something else. until today, today seems like the perfect day.

i am still in paris. i am curled up in my room of the sixth floor apartment in the 15ème, wearing borrowed warm socks and a freshly knitted cowl. im watching the snowstorm happening outside the window next to the old wooden desk i am currently typing at. the flakes are large and hurry down to the ground in number, but its gentle and silent as only snow in paris can be. paris in december, even better than paris in the autumn, or paris in the spring.

since my last post, i have since moved out of my apartment in pernety (a sad sad day), spent two weeks on the beach in the south of france, lived in ireland for two months, backpacked around thailand for a month, and then returned to paris.

in one week, i will return home to arizona for christmas and one (hopefully) final semester of school. after i graduate, i plan to attend fashion school back here in paris. its been a secret dream of mine for quite some time, and in my travels, i have met people who not only gave me the inspiration, but the confidence to pursue it. in fact, this past year and six months i have been travelling and living outside the us has given me more confidence, has lead to more growth and maturity than i ever thought possible.

its unbelievable that it has come to an end, my study abroad experience is almost finished. this chapter of my life is officially over, there is nothing else i can do to drag it out. i am not sad, however, although things will be different, i know i will be back. i have realized that my search for the yellow bird has lead me here. there is still something left to discover, something left i havent realized about myself, to be found on the streets of paris or wherever it is that they lead me.

i am tired of promising posts, of structuring my life around my blog (see weekly updates, or formspring fridays, 101 in 1001, or any of that other nonsense that works for others but i failed so miserably at.) it is because i attempted to partition my life into categorized subjects to be posted on a rigorous schedule that i stopped blogging. my life doesnt work that way, my mind doesnt work that way. i am scattered and a mess and i go wherever my whim takes me, and that life is not conducive to such structured blogging.

so, dear readers, if any of you have found your way back or have miraculously been patiently waiting, you can expect a different type of blog to the one before. but i tell you, you wont be disappointed.

the old blog would have promised posts of ireland, and thailand, and promised weekly updates as i attempt to prepare myself over the next six months for my entrance into the fashion world of paris. (there's so much to be done, sewing ruffles and collars need to be conquered, designing has to be mastered, and pattern making has to be attempted, all leading to the portfolio which will decide my acceptance into the school, the possibility for a future in fashion.)

but the new blog simply says 'wait and see, i will be back, with something new to show you.'

chiang mai, thailand.

photo credit: romain clerc

goodbyes and the final month in paris.

i've been meaning to post this for a while now, but the parisian heat has really been bringing me down. the past days it has been about 30 degrees celsius, i dont know what that it is in fahrenheit. im too lazy to look it up, just know its hot!! "what is this," you say, "but you're from the desert?? its 120 degress there!" well, that is well and true. but arizona is built to conquer the desert, to work against the heat, and create a comfortable living environment. its 120 outside, but 60 inside and we very rarely venture outdoors. paris is not like that. everything we do is outdoors, and to get there you can either walk or take the metro [and the metro is the hottest of all]. but outdoors is better than the inside here! there is no air conditioning, nor even fans. as i type this, it is warmer in my apartment than it is on the open street below. im having trouble adjusting to this strange environment. winter i can handle, i know its different. but summer is too similar and different all the same time. i keep reverting to survival tactics i learned in arizona, but they dont work here. youll notice in all my pictures, my hair is curly. thats because im taking up to four showers a day. no kidding.

despite all of this, the past couple of weeks have been great. 29 june was the common leaving date for all of my international friends, so they wanted their last two weeks to be great. a few remain today, but not very many. the 29th was a very sad day, but i have made amazing friends doing wonderful things so im grateful for the time ive had with them. ive always known this chapter of my life would come to an end, ive been prepared for it. [but well see how calm i feel when the time for me to leave comes!]

the beginning of their end started with fete de la musique. it was basically a day-long festival of music, all across paris. we woke up early and got to tara's house by noon, with groceries in tow. we had a fabulous breakfast of sausages, egg, and baguettes. we begun drinking mimosas in preparation for the day! after brunch, we went to a club called glazart that was holding a music festival of dubstep and reggae. we stayed there for a short while, then went to see danny's jazz band play in a cafe.

the night of fete de la musique is when it got good. aoife and i split up with the rest of the group to meet romain and his friends. ro was working as a photographer for batofar, a techno night club on an old boat! the queue was unbelievebly long, but we stuck it out and got in. aoife and both adore boats, well, mainly any means of transportation. we dont have many pictures, but here are a few, taken by arnold, romains friend.

we also spent days picnicking, and sitting on the banks of the seine.

we also went to a party at a castle, in the suburbs of paris. it wasnt a real castle, but it was built to look like one. there was even a guest house, which looked like a mini castle. it was set in the woods, a large grassy lawn surrounded by dense forest. the forest hid swings and who knows what other surprises, while the grassy lawn housed a pool and a human chess set. i forgot my camera though, so no pictures.

we ended the last weekend on a good note, with solidays. an outdoo rmusic festival, similar to warped tour in the states. only this was techno with a little bit of hip hop, not rock. it was set almost outside of paris, next to the same park romain and i went to for his birthday. so naturally, on the way, aoife and i stopped and took a little break there.

and this last picture shows you the love that exists between my ame sœur/ jumelle [soul mate/twin] and me. who has unfortunately moved back to ireland. :(

[it looks like love, but really shes trying to shake all the grass i put in her hair onto mine.]

 and the story behind the "twins". one day, we decided to go to the local flea market at porte de clignacourt. we were walking through the many small, twisted alleyways past the outdoor booths and permanent antique stores. we passed an old french man, sat in a rocking chair. as we neared him, he smiled, rumbled out 'oh, les jumeaux!' and looked away. after that short, odd encounter, aoife became my twin. it is very odd living in paris without her, or any of the irish girls, of the swedish girls, or even my american girls. only the french remain. maybe ill actually learn some french now.

le sud: les derniers jours.

finally, the last post about the south! this is the last in a series of three. here are parts one and two.

saturday, we woke up incredibly late. by the time i got downstairs, i had missed breakfast completely and it was time for lunch. and what an amazing lunch it was. as this was the last complete day we had with everybody, romain's mother outdid herself. the first course was a tomato-mozarella salad. normally i detest tomatoes, but i loved this salad! the tomatoes were juicy and sweet, and i had missed mozarella cheese. cheese is looked at very differently here. the cheese that is cheap back in the states, like cheddar or mozarella, is really expensive. but goat cheese and camembert and fancy cheeses which would be gourmet in the states are ridiculously cheap here.

the second course was a curry with fish and rice. i dont usually eat curry with fish, mainly chicken. but this was good! jerome's wife detests spice, so mme clerc made a very mild curry. but for those who like spice, [comme moi!], she included a side dish of spice to add to it. so it was really very good.

the dessert was amazing, however. she made a chocolate mousse! all from scratch! plus, after seeing my penchant for strawberries, ie me eating a whole carton all by myself, she served fresh strawberries with it.

after lunch, while his brothers prepared for their departure the next day, we went to one of the little towns in the south around his house. this one was called saint-maxine. the architecture in the south is amazing, and so quaint. the town just felt so romantic! romain, having grown up there, didnt see it that way though.

we stopped and got some ice cream, which claimed to be the best of saint-maxine. it might have been, at one time, before it had been frozen, defrosted, then frozen again. but the guy gave me extra chocolate to garnish my cone and the flavor was amazing, so the icy chunks didnt bother me.

when i focus, i lick my lips. i was having a really hard time choosing soap. ro caught me at that perfect moment, right when i was mid-thought. the south is known for its soap, its really quite special. we bought soap from a tiny stand in front of a square, dozens of bright colors and soft scents gently grabbed my attention and i just had to have one. but despite my protests, both ro and his brother bought me one each. i have saved one for america, but am using one in the shower now. my skin has never been this soft before.

saint-maxine boasts the church where the tomb of mary magdalene is housed. also, the cave where mary magdalene hid. but i didnt go see that one. we went to see the tomb, but it wasnt that impressive. im not religious, i dont know the story of mary magdalene, so this wasnt a very moving experience for me. im sorry to say, we didnt even spend five minutes in the church.

we had to cut our "outing" short, because in french culture dinner is at a specific time and if you miss, there is hell to be had. we arrived two minutes before dinner, and sat down immediately at the table. ro's mother had worked even harder, since this was the last dinner we would all have together. honestly, it might have been one of the weirdest dinners i have ever had.

i dont like cooked vegetables, so i pretended to eat those, slipping them onto ro's plate when no one was looking. but the cod was amazing, and the yellow sauce was even better. i've started buying it here even. its called aioli, and it makes everything better. the snail isnt an escargot, its a sea snail. it is eaten cold and it is absolutely disgusting. not even the yellow sauce could make it better.

after dinner, romain and i went and met up with his friends. i had a horrible time. his friends reminded me of my friends in flagstaff: the hippie clothes, the hippie hair, and the hippie music. but the resemblance stopped there. they were all unbelievably rude. no matter what language i spoke, french or english, they wouldnt speak to me. romain says its because they were afraid, but i didnt get a feeling of fear. it was more like apathy, no only simply cared to speak to me. there is a difference in the youth of paris and the youth of the south: the parisians always want more friends, are used to strangers, and welcome them. the youth of the south is the exact opposite; they have their groups, dont need more, and dont know how to act when strangers come amongst them.

i am willing to admit some fault, however. if lauren who speaks french fluently had been in my place, she would have been fine. or if katy who doesnt speak french but doesnt care had been there, she would have been fine. but me, who speaks french but is afraid, failed. i am too shy to ever succeed in those kind of situations.

sunday, we stayed around the house. ro's brothers all went back to paris. we had waited too long and the sunday train had sold out, so we were forced to leave monday. mme clerc was unbelievably sad. the house was empty and quiet, and she went to bed for most of the day. it was the first time i felt intrusive, knowing if i hadnt been there romain would have been comforting his mother instead of entertaining me. i tried to take a nap, but he wouldnt hear of it. eventually, i got too bored and we went for a walk. he took me to what he called a man-made lake. but in arizona, the man-made lakes are actual lakes, with fishing and boating and whatnot. this was more like a man-made puddle. but it was pretty, and i enjoyed the downtime with romain.

when we got back, his mother had prepared a lunch: leftover cod and cold microwavable pizza. she was definitely depressed that everyone had left. ro and his dad were walking on eggshells around her, and i stayed quiet, offering random french phrases and large awkward smiles.

monday, we didnt do anything but leave the south. ro's dad took us to the train station, and ro seriously looked like he was going to cry. t

my time in the south was amazing. to anyone who likes to travel, i would seriously recommend going to the south of france at least once. i was very apprehensive about meeting ro's family, not only because they speak french, but specifically due to the fact that one day ro and i will have to end. i cant live in france my whole life, and he has no desire to come to america. so, it felt very weird getting to know a family that i may never be part of. but i am very glad i did it, i have learned so much about french culture, but even more about ro and who he really is. i think one of the most interesting things is knowing where someone comes from, and how they became who they are!

this was the last thing i saw while pulling out of the train station in aix:

does it look like an impressionist painting? well, that's cause it inspired many of them. all the most famous french impressionists lived in aix, and painted that exact mountain. as an art history major, that was the most inspiring image i've seen in a while.