job interview

there is an animation studio very nearby. my friend, roy knows the producer there. i had toyed with the idea of calling them and finally had, last march. i had an interview and was told that they might call me as things got going. i checked in from time to time to let them know i was still around. at 11:30 today i got a message that i should call another producer there, that she’d like to talk to me about work. when i called back, she said they were interested in me, and it was sort of urgent, and could i come in today to interview. ok, not problem. so i went in at 5. they wanted me to work for them, since i had the right experience, but were slightly embarrassed about the pay, which was for a less experienced layout artist. i was excited about the idea of working in animation again, and less pay just meant less pressure. i would start in a week, on october 3.

it would be 39 hours/ week. the studio is a 10 min walk, or 3 min bike ride away, so very convenient. i was to let them know by monday.

how to caricature

have been working on a portrait of a friend’s daughter as a modigliani painting. finding it very difficult since modigliani’s style is to elongate the persons features. he painted his girlfriend, jeanne hebuterne often, but the faces he painted doesn’t even look like her. my subject has a rounder face. i need to make the portrait somehow look like her. i tried a bunch of tests using photoshop, distorting a photo of her – squeezing and elongating her face. that worked pretty well, but it can’t just be pasted into the other painting. when i simplify the features into lines, it just doesn’t look like her. i decided i needed to understand how caricatures worked. i went onto the internet, which continues to amaze me. i found a fantastic tutorial on caricatures and have spent all morning reading that. check it out:

http://www.tomrichmond.com/blog/2008/02/14/how-to-draw-caricatures-1-the-5-shapes/ and then

http://www.tomrichmond.com/blog/category/tutorials/

i think this will help me.

dsk on tv

dsk was on tv last night, interviewed by a journalist who is friend of his wife. waved the document from the nyc police around and implied that it said that there was no basis for the charges. this morning walked maynard the dog and wanted to hear what the doggy people had to say about his performance. the french word was “pathetique”. he has no chance to make a come back and run for president.

visiting the president

this weekend was “european historic days” or something like that. in france it is known as days of “patrimony” where historic buildings which are normally closed to the public are opened up and anyone can go through and visit. special exhibits are put up describing interesting facts about the building. last year we went to the hotel de ville – or town hall of paris. this year i was tempted to go to the elysees palace – home and office of the president of france, the equivalent of the white house. i was warned that the line was always long for it. on saturday i got the family to get on bikes and go over to the palace. i had first walked the dog and gone to the market and they had gotten up very late. so by the time we arrived at the palace it was 1:30. we walked from the champs elysee through a park to arrive on the street which had the entrance to the palace and we came upon a line that stretched all the way to the end of the road. we asked a man how long he had been waiting and he said 3-4 hours. we couldn’t believe it! i thought he was kidding me. a policeman said that the line would close at 4:30 and everyone would get in by 6:00 – at least that’s what i thought he said. i figured i’d come back at 4:30. so we went instead to the “petit palais” which is currently a museum. we were able to get in free (because of the special day) and we looked at some interesting paintings. (an artist i discovered there, that i never had known before was fernand pelez. he had worked at the end of the 1800’s and did a naturalist style – very realistic. his painting in this museum was called “grimaces and miserables” – of a sad group of circus performers. it was incredible. kind of depressing, but i beautiful and i loved it. afterwards jj and i went shopping on the champs elysees and p went to visit a few other buildings.

i did not make it back to the palace because we didn’t finish shopping until 5:00. i was a little annoyed because i hadn’t really wanted to go shopping and the champs elysees is too commercial and crowded for me. but jj really did need some clothes and my help in buying them. (she gets an allowance now, which includes clothes money so she is responsible for looking after her own budget). i did buy some stuff for myself, but it was a bit hellish. as a new yorker, i always prided myself in avoiding the crowds, knowing when to go places and when not to. for dinner we made moules mariniere (mussels in soup) served with baguette and potatoes. i bought twice as many mussels as i should have (because i made the mistake of asking the vendor how much i needed per person and they always exaggerate – and because jj just told me that she doesn’t really like mussels.) anyway it was good. we have enough for another meal. we then watched a french film called “diner des cons” or “dinner of idiots” which was remade into an american film. i hated the american film, which was in the tradition of jerry lewis and “i love lucy” – way over the top and very little believability. the french one was very funny and i was proud that we watched it without subtitles and i understood most of it.

i was going to get up early and leave the family behind to get myself to the elysees palace. i didn’t think they were too interested anyway. i ended up walking the dog and having breakfast and didn’t get to the palace until 9:45. the line was down the road, around the corner and around another corner. i asked the policeman how long he thought the wait was and he said 7 hours. i thought he was kidding and said so. he said, “no, i’m not.” i asked him again if he was kidding and he insisted he wasn’t. i got in line and asked the people if they thought he was kidding. they said maybe not. i considered whether i wanted to take the chance that they were wrong. the people said, just wait 2 hours and see where we are then. i think we’ll be on the road by then. i thought about it. i certainly didn’t want to wait 7 hours and i didn’t even really know what i was waiting for. i had no burning desire my whole life to see this place. but there is the lemming effect of seeing all these people waiting and thus believing that it must be worth waiting for. the people insisted, it is only open once a year. the man said that he had had the opportunity to go on the concorde airplane and had put it off, and then it was closed, and he missed it, so he never wanted to put things off anymore. it was true, that we would probably not be here next year at this time and chances were pretty slim that i’d be invited anytime soon to dine with the president. so i thought i’d hang out a bit and see how it went. it got quite friendly when a young man came and asked if he could get back in line with us. he was on his own and had gone off to the bathroom. the other man recognized him and said “of course”. we all started talking. there was an african-origin couple(stephanie and the man with an african name), though i don’t think they were actually a couple. it never was clear to me their relationship. there was an african-origin family of 3 small children, (leila and bourdon or something) and there was a french french guy named gregoire. gregoire went off to get a sandwich and came back with snacks for everyone. we talked the whole time and covered topics from obama, to bush, to dsk (dominique straus kahn) to television, to current french politics, to history of the palace. i got a LOT of practice on my french. after 3 hours, i called p and said he should come join me in the line and he should bring jj too. the group were all supportive of him coming and joining in. i asked him to bring me a sandwich. i told him that the gates were within range and that it would be maybe another ½ hour before the check point. he hurried over. then we realized that the line was actually still very long. from that point, it took us another 2 hours to actually get to the gate. it had been sunny in the beginning but it is september and it got a little cold standing out there in the breeze. then it rained for a while. enough people in the line had brought umbrellas to cover most of the people.

jj had a lot of homework and had to read her french, a collection of short stories by marguerite yourcenar. she was whining about it because it was quite difficult and a bit boring. we insisted that she continue, since she would have been bored anyway standing there, it was worth using the time. she finished her first story and said she didn’t understand it. p was going to read it to try to help, but then we asked gregoire instead, who was happy to skim through the story. he actually agreed that it was very difficult to understand, since it was a fantastical description of a painter becoming part of his painting. he had to read the particular passage 3 times to finally understand it enough to explain it to her.

unfortunately, the policeman in the beginning of the line was NOT exaggerating about the 7 hours. it ended up being 6 hours to get to the gate. once we were through the gate, the bag check and metal detectors, there was a separate line if you wanted your free picture taken in front of the palace. it took another hour to get from the gate to the picture taking. we were going to pass on it, but it looked like the line actually went faster there and the rest of the group went on that line. we figured we’d stay together with the others. we had separate pictures taken, but also one with the whole group. at that point, it turned out that there would have been another hour to wait. i felt stupid. i just didn’t think it was worth 8 hours to go into the palace but after waiting 7 hours, how could we leave? bourdon, the dad of the kids had a meeting and said he had to leave. after all that!? he went to the door to ask if he could go through quickly. we found out that there was an express line for families with strollers and handicapped people. i saw him talking to the guard and then going into the palace. next thing i know, he is back to get his family who he got permission to skip the rest of the line because of the small children. but he said to the guard that we were all a group, so we ALL got to go straight to the door!

the palace was very ornate of course. it has not changed much since napolean III became the first president to live there. we entered the “festivities hall” where a huge U shaped table was set as for a state dinner. they had been showing a film about how the table was set. they have special devices to make sure the plates are all the same distance from the edge and they use a measuring tape to make sure they are a certain distance from each other. the glasses are all arranged very precisely. they have one guy for specifically opening the doors. i think the amazing thing is that this ornate palace is a living palace. it is currently in use in its full 18th century splendor. the other amazing thing is that there are plenty of similar places all over paris and france, though this is probably the pinnacle of them all. phew. that was the whole day. a 7 hour wait (with our special short cut) for a half hour visit. but as they say, it’s the journey, not the destination.

first conversation group of year

i love our conversation group meetings. we make the journey of learning french together with this fun group of moms. one mom is british and i love this list of her favorite new french terms she shared with us:

parents retardataire – referring to the parents who arrived late to the meeting – usually “les eleves retardataire” meaning late students. retardataire = latecomer

depots sauvages – (literally “wild trash”) = illegal dumping

dejections canines – dog poop.(apparently “dejection” is a medical term for this)

she also shared a british term with me once when i told a story about an artistocratic-wannabee mom that i knew in san francisco. this mom was also pregnant and could not make a certain meeting because she had an appointment to have her baby then. apparently, she had said to a friend, in reference to this, “dogs give birth”. my friend said that in england this is a type they call “too posh to push”.

of course, i also love the group because i get all kinds of stories about the school. it was so helpful to try to understand things when we started in september, a year ago. the french school culture is all about punishment and telling kids what they do wrong rather than the american way of telling them what they do right. there is a little notebook called "carnet de correspondance" which is used as the communication with the parents. it is theoretically to have all teacher comments, but usually to tell what the child has done wrong and to have a record of bad behavior. one mom told me that her daughter got a bad mark for having brought in the wrong type of scotch tape. absurd!

first potluck of year

first parent potluck of the school year. i made chinese dumplings (bought them frozen, but fried by me. a big hit. ) at a mom’s house, which is next door to the prime minister’s. last year a friend of mine went to this same potluck. but she got the address wrong and went up to the door with all the policemen. she thought, “hmm, giuse lives in such a fancy building with its own police”. when the police asked her where she was going, she asked, “isn’t this where the potluck is?” then she realized her mistake and came to the next door down. it is a stunning apartment, to say the least. (i probably told you this story already)

it was great to see everyone, and i met some new fun moms from LA. very lively bunch.

met our dr.

took jj for her dr. checkup. you need to declare your “main” doctor, but we had never met her before today.

painted 4 hours

another summer camp story

there was a mom’s coffee at cafe cosmos near school. at the coffee, i chatted with a mom of one of jj’s 15 year old friends. i told her some jj camp stories about everyone smoking, the designated smoking areas, the terrible food. she had to tell me HER camp story. she said her daughter went to a camp through the company. it was an upscale camp for 15-17 year olds. her daughter told her that on the last night the counselors said, “so you know that you are not allowed to sleep together, but tonight is your last night, so if you want to, we’re handing out condoms to everyone”.

ahh, the french...   the mother was so shocked she couldn’t say anything and she's french!  she had to wait until later to discuss it. she asked, and “so , you”. her daughter’s eye rolling, and “come on mom” reassured her. of course, the argument could be made that it’s better to hand them out than to NOT hand them out.

also – figured out where alot of kids go to camp.  years ago, i had tried to find a french camp for jj, but couldn’t.  turns out many companies have “social clubs”  that have company sponsored and discounted offers for employees from vacation homes and ski trips to summer camps for the kids.  any company over a certain size is, by law, required to have these organizations called “committee d’enterprise”.   it is the employee’s right to have one.  a small percentage of everyone’s pay is taken to support this committee.  the funny thing is that there are some companies that are so large that their commitee d’enterprise is huge and has its very OWN committee d’enterprise. 

new word for the day:  heteroclite = constituted of variety of things, of different styles, synonyme – bizarre.  english = motley.  composite, disparate, heterogenious,panache varied.

painted 4 hrs.

new start

back in paris. new start – painted 4 hours. looking for studio. going to teach art to some friends. will try this out to see if i like it.

amsterdam

AMSTERDAM is an amazing city. i haven’t been here for many years. it has such unique architecture. i guess you could say that about many cities. london, paris, rome, venice, and amsterdam. the first time i came, it reminded me of manhattan. but of course, that makes sense. new york, formerly known as new amsterdam and founded by the dutch. the tall skinny brownstones. something about taxes being based on the footprint of the building. it has such a warm atmosphere. charming, very storybook, very gingerbread cookie feeling. very human scaled and lovely. great coffee and cafes.  our little rented apartment came with 3 bikes. we biked around town, went to museums, shopped, wandered. i really loved it. there was a “quality of life”.

bikes, architecture, cafes, bricks, canals, small, intimate, cozy. we didn’t hang out in certain seedier parts of town.

we told jj about how amsterdam was the first foreign town that she visited. (having been born in paris) she was 2 months old. this made me curious as to how many countries jj had been to and i counted them: france, belgium, holland, italy, us, bahamas, cuba, mexico, great britain, canada, china, japan, germany, morocco, greece, costa rica, switzerland. 17. and she’s only 15.  don't want that to sound like bragging.  was just curious.

amsterdam by train

p goes to a business conference in amsterdam every year and this year we got cheap train tickets so jj and i are going with him.

rentree

they say that in paris, on the first day of september, it starts to rain. i was surprised to find that it is still dark at 7am. it’s already fall. they call it the “rentree” ("the return") – people return from the summer holidays and the kids go back to school. normal life starts up again and, as i said, it starts to rain...

return to paris

i leave for paris tonight.

2nd day

we came by in the morning to see how she was.

she had all her things packed back in bags and ordered us to take her home. it’s terrible because i keep imagining myself in the situation. the helplessness. the total dependency on your own children. she stayed angry on and off. my sister said that in her moments of lucidity she was extremely pissed. then she’d slide into dementia and hang out. i went back to the house to do some cleaning. i called to see how things were going and my niece told me she was playing the piano for the other residents. after her spitting anger, i could only think that she was totally insane.

in a weird way, i had been excited for her. i wanted her to live in a place with other people, with meals cooked for her. i thought she might be more stimulated. but the reality is that the other people are also impaired and some are very far gone, some practically catatonic. they were not going to be great company.

jj started school today without me.

moving day for ma

moving day. she has a very nice room with a bathroom, in an upscale facility. we moved her bed and some furniture to her room and put photos of the family and some chinese paintings that she painted on the walls. it looked really nice and also familiar.

we knew it wouldn’t be easy. i thought i’d stay with her for the first couple of days to ease the transition. i wanted to be like a spy and observe. to go undercover. the manager let me know that it might be shocking. “hmm. like what?”, i asked. my sister sort of giggled. “well”, he said, “you’ll see things you’re not used to.” “like what?” “well, like this morning there was an accident involving one of the residents and feces”. “ooooh...” ok. this was going to be interesting. but then i got the word through my sister that they discouraged family from staying over. just that first couple of hours with my mother, i decided i agreed with them. my mother needed to adapt to this new place and it was not going to be easy. she had not made this decision.

we figured that if she didn’t even recognize her own home, she wouldn’t notice the difference if she was moved. of course, we were wrong. she was NOT happy.

she was really mad at us. what’s worse is that, unfortunately, i have to agree with everything she says. “you people have been going around behind my back arranging this without asking me. why couldn’t you show me this place before?” we knew that if we had asked her, she would say “no”. no point in arguing... we were basically committing her. this sounds terrible but, in a way it’s like leaving your child in day care the first time. you just have to leave and let them get on with it. as long as you are there they think they have a way out.

we left and stopped in later in the day. she did everything she could to get us to take her home. it’s hard to see your mother helpless, and know that you are making her do something she doesn’t want to.

on a different note, dsk returned to paris today.  wonder what the doggy people in the champs de mars are saying about it.

a facility

my sister had visited the facilities in the area in the past, and found an “alzheimers” facility for the” memory impaired”. she called them and told them that as soon as there was an opening that we would like it for my mother. my sister got a call saying that a spot was available in early september as soon as one of the rooms could be refurbished with new carpeting and walls painted. the date was set for september 10 to move in, but i suggested that if it could be done sooner, september 1 or so, i could help with the move. the date was moved to sunday sept 4.

my sister had been telling her from time to time that she was going to move to a new apartment in a facility where she would get her meals cooked for her and where the bathroom is attached to the bedroom. everytime she told her, my mother didn’t object. this morning my sister came in very businesslike and told ma that we had to talk, that she had something to tell her. she told her that she was moving tomorrow. i have been impressed with how she has been very direct with ma about things. i tend to avoid saying anything that people don’t want to hear, to try to make everything in the best light. this is a typical thing to do, but my sister is a doctor and has learned to be direct and not gloss over things. my mother seemed to get it and said ok.

it’s times like these that i wonder whether i am numb, repressed or selfish. or all of the above. i can’t help looking at this as an illness that i can do nothing about. “try to make the patient comfortable” rings in my ear. i think suffering is the worst. if there is no evidence of suffering, i can ignore it. denial. and my mother seems really happy right now. well, i guess, she should be. her daughters are fluttering around her and she’s not been alone for a month. she was singing the other day. what else can we do? my mother had made it clear to my sister that she never wanted to get to this state. we don’t have a choice in these matters.

and it’s not cheap. i know i have wondered in the past how much these places cost. with my mother’s functionality, she gets a better rate. the price itself would kill my mother, if she knew.

guilt

i was aware, when we moved to paris, that she was already on the decline and felt badly about moving so far away. i told her once that i felt guilty about leaving her. she had always been supportive of us. she said something to the effect of “you have to live your own life. you shouldn’t stay around because of me.” i always appreciated that she was not the sort of mom to pressure or guilt us to do anything (like get married or have kids). she stayed clear of those things. her job was to make us independent and she did it well. we 5 children have scattered to the winds and are very independent of her. we had a healthy happy childhood. there are so many times i’ve heard of the problems in the childhoods of friends and colleagues, that i appreciate all the more the things i took for granted. not all parents love their children. not all parents do the best things for their kids. she gave us her life. we knew that we were the most important things to her.

a waking dream

my mother used to have a rosary. we were wondering where it was because we thought it might give her some comfort these days. i found it in a drawer and gave it to her. she was happy to have it. that night, she got up after only a few hours of sleep. she was complaining about itchy feet and couldn’t get back to sleep. maybe she has athlete’s foot. i put some ointment on it. she sat down in the living room. she picked up the rosary and looked at it and seemed satisfied as she said “ahh”. then used it to scratch her toes... “ahhh...”

i can’t help observing her and wondering about the brain’s functions and malfunctions.

later, she woke up from a dream and tried to explain to me what was bothering her.

“i don’t know how to say it – february 2 is a tuesday, it’s the day, you can touch it on the calendar.”

a friend of mine who’s dad had alzheimers described it best. she said that he was in a “waking dream”

“i don’t want to join this club next year”. sometimes she is like a simple person, sometimes like an insane person. always nice, sometimes even cheery. she’s happy in general.

keep thinking of film “curious case of benjamin button” – writer must have seen this. very child like. she still knows how to peel broccoli and shell shrimp.

it is sad that she has to go to a nursing home, but she is so fortunate that she has the means to pay for a place where they will look after her. lucky to have a daughter and son in law who are doctors. i keep thinking that the baby boomers ahead of me will figure out how to do this. they will fix it before i get there. how do you check out if you want to? or maybe the memory thing will be curable or we won’t get there to begin with. maybe by then, we will already be virtual people, giving up our bodies and living in the computer. maybe not...

the eagle has flown

i took jj to the airport to fly as an unaccompanied minor. i knew she could do it. she knew she could do it. she has traveled extensively for her 15 years. before she was one year old, she had already been to 9 countries. she has been on lots of plane trips. we knew she would be fine, but one can’t help feeling a bit tense sending off one’s child on her own on a long trip. we checked in then had a little dinner together. then i brought her back to the check-in desk and a lady took her to the front of security line. they went through and disappeared. she will go directly to the plane and be the first one to board. i texted p “the eagle has flown, the package is sent”.

she will be guided through transfer in london.

it was fine. she was fine.

violin camp

the organizers asked us to try to write a paragraph describing the camp. here’s my attempt at a synopsis:

“in an idyllic wooded setting by a lake, ogontz suzuki camp is a week of music for families with children who have studied string instruments through the suzuki method. it offers a remarkably supportive and unpretentious social setting, where young musicians experience camaraderie and a feeling of belonging in spending time with other young musicians and their families. in the lovely surroundings of nature, it inspires children and teens to enjoy playing music. “

the camp takes place in the woods near the “white mountains. with many of the same families coming back year after year, it has become a community. families catch up with one another.

everyone participates in chores and parents accompany younger kids to lessons, group lessons, chamber groups, and orchestra rehearsals. there are also dance and theatre classes that prepare a performance for the last day. most kids play a solo in one of the afternoon recitals. there are extra activities like art and swimming in the lake; special events, like water balloon fights and “polar bear plunge” early morning swim in the lake; evening performances by faculty. then, after all that, there is the brilliantly presented “optional, stay up late and play sight reading chamber music” in the cafeteria. the better you are, the later you can stay up. the camp has an amazing spirit.

i knew that she liked this camp. that’s why we came all the way from paris. however, i didn’t realize how MUCH she liked it. one night as we settled down in the screenless cabins, (she and her cousins in a tent), she told me that she LOVED this camp. she loved it so much that she was really sad that she would soon be too old to come. she loved running around the camp on her own and hanging out with the other teenagers. it’s a safe place that gives the kids a feeling of freedom. more than that, having all these friends who ALL play the violin or cello, who understand that part of her. it is sad that playing the violin can feel like a handicap as a teenager.

when i’m here at this camp, the thing i find particularly magic is walking past the cabins in the woods and hearing music playing, kids practicing everywhere. many parents are musicians too and we all enjoy the special time making music in the woods.