A look of endless longing, of loss, a je ne sais quoi.
Like most of my drawings, this one’s a little messy, born out of play. It’s when I least know it, when I least expect it, that an expression like this one opens up some meaning…
I drew this while watching The Unbearable Lightness of Being, a long-winded film that I picked for the title. Although the film didn’t really live up to my expectations, it did have its moments, its expressions…I paused it for a second at the moment Sabina turned her head around, the light of her face emerging from the dark after her lover had left the room.
Back in October, my friends and I from the Marchutz School took a petit vacance to Grenoble and through sheer happenstance - we happened to couch surf with a fiddle player who knew some band members personally - we saw this band, Les Poissons Voyageurs. Second or third row. Little Cafe. A brilliantly eclectic sound and a room full of character.
An illustration for the Spoleto Festival USA blog. Learn more about this phenomenal international arts festival on their website.
Now in its 37th year, Charleston’s Spoleto Festival USA is a celebration of some of the most inventive works of performance and visual art worldwide that’s only invigorated by its quintessential southern setting. This year’s line-up boasts 160 performances from artists and ensembles from 14 countries across the city’s numerous historic and contemporary venues. Artists come here from Italy, the UK, South Africa, Japan, China, Spain, Russia, Korea, France, Brazil, Israel, Finland and India and throughout the United States.
From French acrobatics to Spanish Flamenco, traditional Indian Kuchipudi to a Japanese opera sung in German, Spoleto offers a diverse spread of shows of the highest caliber from emerging and established artists. What they share is the ability to transcend their genres in performances that, while brought to life in the picturesque Cistern Yard or the Dock Street Theatre, still somehow have a way of making you forget where you are.
Mother and Daughter
Remembering coming home from class to these autumn leaves and crisp provencal light. My french host mother’s voice and the whistle of the tea kettle downstairs.
I dream of Giverny
Pictures from a week in Paris.
At the close of a semester abroad in Aix-en-Provence, France, my family met me for the winter holidays. Before we left for Paris for Christmas, I showed them around city and countryside that I had come to know and love.
Sketches from a visit to Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris