Anya of Umm's Unintelligible Ramblings

I really hate it. Lately I've been having quite a case of it. Am I good enough? Do I have what it takes? What makes me feel that I can be an artist? I remember reading somewhere that this is exactly the kind of feelings artists should have, always questioning themselves, till they're in cold sweat. It's somewhat reassuring then.

I guess it has something to do with the fact that I haven't been photographing a lot during these few weeks. I did take a lot of films while staying at my parents' this Christmas, including a large part of this project I am working on, which actually turned out quite good. Then maybe it's the whole pressure to buy a digital SLR (and realising just how broke I am going to be after this), like the guy from the Photo Dept at the uni told me to do "if I want to get better". Whatever.

I also feel some kind of frustration at the fact that sometimes my stuff is so personal (but then again, so is all art), that a lot of people are baffled when I tell them I consider pictures like this to be some of my best work (apologies in advance for poor resolution, these are film and scanned):



Usually they just skim through those pics. Instead, they love random pictures of leaves:



Sure, they look good. But most things do, at a 1.8 opening.

And I feel like an idiot trying to explain what some of my pictures mean to me. I think they mostly speak for themselves, but I guess, not to all. *Sigh*

I think I am a pretty envious person.

Bleh.

Well, apparently, my uncle died last Friday, only my mom didn't want to tell me. The funeral is this Friday and I won't be able to be there because I am only coming home on Saturday... For Christmas. Ironic, in a Six Feet Under kind of way.

As I said, it doesn't really affect me that much, but when I think about what my mom and my grandparents are going through... It breaks my heart.

Well, today is a national holiday in France which means that I don't have work today and actually could have all the day to myself, as amazing as it sounds. WTF.

I initially wanted to go see Philippe Garrel's latest film, "Les Amants Réguliers", but then I got scared because it's over 3 hours long,... and also the reviews are kind of diametrically opposed. Plus, the main character is played by Louis Garrel (the director's son), whom I was going to see anyway in this theatre play I had tickets for, "Viol" ("Rape"). I mean, he's OMG KUTE LOLZ and all, but 6 hours of him on the same day... I think not. I will probably end up seeing the movie though, as I suspect that those critics who praise it are actually right this time.

So I stayed at home for the whole day doing random shit like... actually getting some homework done, cutting cardboard and embroidering photos on paper (long story). Then I got my ass to the theatre in the evening.

The play was pretty amazing, which is exactly what every single critic in France seems to suggest anyway. Well, it's directed by Luc Bondy, after all... I haven't read the text of the play so I don't really know how much of a free interpretation the performance actually is; but I must say I liked a lot the way they actually managed to lighten the atmosphere of otherwise pretty grim story. People whining about how there's blood should just suck it up, IMHO. Not only there is much more blood on TV, here it actually serves a purpose; not to mention that art isn't there to soothe you at all.

So I went to the Luxembourg Garden today, in order to take some MORE pictures of green chairs, for this one project of mine. As I was walking around taking said pictures, I noticed an unusually large number of people standing around some open-air cafe. Surely enough, they were shooting some film there. It apparently has Laetitia Casta (whom you might know) and Mathieu Amalric (whom you probably don't know; he's a independent French cinema actor/director and I tend to like his work).

Anyway, as I stopped for some minutes to see what was happening, I thought how funny it was that living in Paris, I don't really care about such encounters (and weirdly, I do seem to run into French cinema stars a lot lately), while some people would go all "OMGOMGOMGOMGGKUJEDSODAHFDKJSH!11111" about it. For instance, I didn't even think of taking pictures of this, uh, event; because it just seemed like such a retarded thing to do to me. But yeah, I take taking pictures pretty serious, me being an artfag in training and what not.

Some guy: OMGOMG is that Laetitia Casta LOLZZZ!11111??11111
Anya: Uh... Yeah...

Yet another "Paris moment", just like that other one some weeks ago. (Friend: OMG this lady we just passed totally looks like Fanny Ardant!!11 Anya: Dude, that *was* Fanny Ardant. Welcome to Paris.)

P.S. Merski: that drunk clochard still was NOT Johnny Depp. : |

So in an effort to get as much sleep as possible these last days before school starts (hoping that it would also magically cure this cold thingie that I have), I set up my alarm clock to wake me up at noon. At 11 a.m. I get a call from my Mom.

Anya: Mom... could you please call me back in an hour?
Mom: OK, will do.

I hang up and try to get some more sleep... Only to be woken up in 5 minutes by a call from "Patton" who wanted to wish me a happy belated birthday. Apparently, he is sick too. N is sick. Everybody is sick. And today it's unexpectedly warm outside.

So at that point I understood that there's no use staying in bed. Especially since me and "Patton" talked for about a half hour, like we usually do, about random shit like that DVD I "stole" from him, Trouble Every Day. Which I saw, and thought was great, despite being the Most Distrubing Film Anya Has Ever Seen. Seriously, don't watch it if you don't know what it's about. Legend goes people have fainted during its' premiere in Cannes some years ago.

Anyway, then I got up. And I just feel so... weak today. It's the cold, I know. I don't have a high temperature, thankfully, and my throat isn't sore anymore. I just have a stuffed nose and this weakness... I feel like I am about to fall asleep. It sucks. So I just spent the first half of the day talking to my Mom on Skype and drinking LOADS of tea. Mariage Freres tea though, so at least I am not tired of it.

And now I have to go work. And then I am cooking a dinner for some friends in the evening. *Yawn*

So yes... Feeling amazingly good, for a birthday. :p Maybe it's the sleep deprivation - I didn't get much sleep last night...

Anyway, today I went to my new uni to sit through some student assembly thingie that was supposed to explain the whole studies system to us. Before that I had exactly 20 minutes to go through 3 various offices (situated, of course, in different parts of the campus) and pay some bling bling to the uni in order to finally get my student's card. I managed to do it in 15. I rock.

The assembly thing itself took 3 hours and,... it seemed to drag on and on. The guy in charge of the whole Arts department... Well, let's just say that he LIKES TO TALK. A lot. About useless shit that everybody understands anyway (You mean nobody can actually *teach* you to be an artist?! Holy shit, what a shock!!! Please explain why in a 30 minutes speech, that's a very hard concept to grasp. *eyeroll*). As for the administrative shit, no need to talk about that! In fact, the department's policy seems to be making everybody do stuff like that on their own. You construct your own schedule (which, in fact, is really freaking great. You can take exactly the classes that interest you/ have something to do with your whole vision of yourself as an artist; and disregard others: I couldn't care less about sketching classes, for example, but I made sure to take all the Photography-related classes avaliable). You chose your own minors if you want. If you want to take some classes outside the department, you go speak with those classes' dept yourself. You have to go to the language dept yourself to subscribe for the language courses (which I apparently can - and am planning to - avoid by taking an English-language class in Anglo-Saxon Contemporary Art instead).

Anyway, you have freedom. You also have responsibility. It's a good thing I am SO used to running around doing administrative bullshit like that ALL BY MYSELF (being a foreigner in France SURE gets you used to that, hehe). But I totally don't envy those kids fresh out of highschool where everything was done for them, they must be in some state of shock. Heh, in fact, a lot of the guys sitting with me at that assembly thing were born in 1987. Like my brother. OMG DEPRESSION+++. :p

This thing did boost my confidence though, cause I felt like I was one of the few people who actually knew what they wanted to do in their life. I am the one to talk though, it took me 3 years to figure that out. :p But... I just got a feeling (probably not fair of me) that a lot of the kids sitting with me in that amphitheatre decided to do Arts just because they like to draw pictures of random stuff on the margins of their highschool Maths notebooks (that's what many of them were doing throughout the assembly,... and it wasn't that good. I am probably a bitch for saying that). Just like so many, many people go to study cinema because they're thinking "Let's see... What do I do in my free time? Lying on a sofa and watching movies. Cinema it is then!". Bulshit. Hey I like watching movies too! And I did draw those little things in my notebook when I was bored (usually during Philosophy/Politology/History classes in my highschool, when the DIPSHIT CRAZY teahcer we had was telling us about how we are all worthless sluts, or something like that). I mean, I hope it works out for them. It's one thing to sit around thinking "I want to be an artist, hey maybe the university will make me one!". If you want to be an artist, begin becoming one. Now. Uni can help of course (that's why I am there). But you have to work yourself. It's your vision, your ideas. Nobody can teach you that.

P.S. That new Noir Désir's live album is actually pretty disappointing. : (

I WILL BE ARTFAGGIN' THIS YEAR!!!111 :D :D :D

...As many of you know, I applied to this Paris 8 university in June and they didn't bother to give me any answer till now, even though the studies start, like, next week. So after pointless metro rides to the uni, more pointless phone-calls (since they never actually answer the goddamn calls), I finally got some luck today when I went to see them for the 938422948th time...

After standing in lines in some 3 offices, I finally got rewarded with "Oh what's your name... Hmm... Oh yeah, you're accepted. We haven't actually got around to send you something to tell you, but you see how BUSY we are... Just come to this student meeting on the 6th (my birthday haha) and wait for an indefinite period of time for out lazy asses to actuall send you the paperwork".

Still, HAPPY. My life has some sort of direction again.

And now the site of the Police Prefecture of Paris tells me that the nearest date when I can go update my (now expired) residence permit is December the 12th. :p Oh well, that's not my fault, and the paper where it says that should be enough to get me out of any improbable trouble. Not to mention that I can hang out in France for 6 months without any apparent reason. Also, seeing how I am now a Cool European, they ask me for much less documents than before. In fact, they only want to see my passport, student's card and 2 photos. What's the point of this procedure again? :p

I woke up at 2 p.m. today, due to going to bed at 4 a.m., which was in turn due to me playing iSketch with half of PI. Then, since *everything* in Paris is closed on Sunday, I had nothing better to do than to go wash my clothes (in a lavomat which is miraculously open on Sundays).

After doing that I took a metro to Père Lachaise in order to artfag using my new film camera (the first test film is being developped already btw). It was nice, and the evening light was pleasant... I had a shock of my life when I got to Morrison's grave and found NOBODY near it. No tourists. Not even the usual police officer. The steel barriers are still there though... *sigh* And some fuckass wrote something on the gravestone with a marker. How the fuck do such people even exist??

Anyway, as I was walking around I kind of forgot that the cemetary closes at 6 p.m. So when I got to the exit, I was entitled to some guard guy yelling at some other people and me that we need to get out. And he was really, uh, pretty inconsiderate. I mean, how fucking rude can you be? Show a little respect for the dead, if not for the living, eh?

My New Baby!!!

Bought it today. Haven't made any photos yet, I'm waiting for tomorrow to take some in good light conditions. The lens isn't that great though, changing the aperture on the camera itself rather than on the lens is weird. But I will get used to it. And then, "normal" lenses can be used with this camera, too.

I am actually quite scared of the thing at the moment, heheh. And yet can't wait to get to know it. Actually, this kind of sounds like what having a baby probably feels like.

***

Also, here are my new pretty shoes: