L'appartement à Rue Dupin + Diane = contente.

My occasional Internet connection issues aside, I haven't mentioned much about the apartment I'm renting here in Paris, in the 6th arrondissement. And how much I love it. LOVE! IT! It's perfect, Diane-sized, and the only thing missing is one Mr. John Feissel. Otherwise, it's lovely. Did I mention it's located mere steps from Left Bank department store Le Bon Marché, along with its magnificent little sister next door, La Grande Epicerie? This provides much temptation, although I've managed so far to play it cool and not go nuts buying all manner of fancy foodstuffs/department store goods. It is hard to resist getting this water, though, and getting my fully hydrated bling on:
Hydramafizzation! Fo' shizzle! God, it is so unfortunate to find this in Paris. Do I need to mention that it's made in the U.S.? Probably not.

There's a Chinese restaurant right next to our front door, actually located underneath our building. Haven't tried it yet, but I'm a bit dubious as it offers not just Chinese but also Vietnamese and Thai food... their sheer lack of focus is a turnoff for me. So is this guy, he scares me a bit:

Here's some more from the apartment interior and building. I'm enjoying myself immensely and want to stay forever.

there's the space right outside the apartment, belongs to the neighbor across the hall

the stairwell/l'escalier

miroir

my feet on the ground.

Les Puces.

Spent Sunday doing social things around the city, and it was damn fine weather to do so. Fortunately. Went to the Marché aux Puces at St. Ouen with Susan and Linda from class... glad we went but it was something of a disappointment. Lots of lame/crappy/cheaply made/gangsta clothes and then beyond that lots of pricey antiques – little in between. Maybe I’ll try the one at Montreuil in the future, or some of the brocantes. Anyway, here are some photos nonetheless:

Diane et les mecs:

At Les Puces:
Les Puces:
Doll at Les Puces with a rather disturbing inner movement curve:
The view from Susan and Linda’s apartment in Montmartre:
Later I caught up with cousins and aunts and went out to dinner on the Ile St. Louis. Somehow it seems one cannot go wrong with the Ile St. Louis. That’s a good île.

La famille:

Playtime in Paris.

On Saturday I had time to explore a tad, both in my neighborhood and elsewhere. I made a Tati run for some things I needed at a plus bas prix, and I came upon these lamps:

Surely these specimens belong to the same species as the leg lamp from "A Christmas Story."And therefore... they must be Italian.

Have you heard of this restaurant "Dans le Noir"? The idea is this: one eats one's meal *completely* in the dark – that is, "dans le noir" – and one is served by waitstaff who are blind. Blind! In other words, they are able to navigate about in the dark and so forth. Presumably a large part of the appeal is the increased dependence on (and enhancement of) one’s sense of taste while deprived of another of one’s senses, i.e., sight. Weird, huh? Neat, huh? I’ve been too chicken to try it though. What makes me even more frightened, though, is the thought that they have a company car, as pictured… one can only hope the blind waitstaff do not drive it. But who knows? They do things differently in France:

Okay, I know someone who will appreciate this one: guess what’s in my neighborhood, about a block and a half away? This is clearly a sign that the stars have aligned:
By the way, has anyone been looking for Oscar the Grouch? Yes? OK, I found him.
Maybe he's been hanging out with Waldo?.

Saturday night, I met with our cousins for dinner in the 6th arrondissement, at a place called La Boussole (the compass). Good stuff. Here’s the lovely C., on the way to the parking garage after dinner:

Fred explained the following sign to me, it's a sort of jeu de mots, a play on words which I didn’t understand at first. Though it's hard not to love any play on words which involves the infancy of lard.
More soon.

Timing is everything.

So. I was planning - planning, mind you, despite my cold - to hear a concert here in Paris Friday night by my cousin-in-law’s band, Greenhouse Effect. Planning. So, apparently I missed the boat on exactly *when* they were due to play… I had the info that it started at 10pm, but thinking that, as with most concerts, there would be some time before they went onstage, I ended up arriving at the club at 10:30pm. Stupidly. Only to miss Greenhouse Effect by mere minutes, it seems. GAAAAHHHH. You see, what was scheduled was a sort of “battle of the bands” format, where each of 8 bands competing performed for exactly one half-hour from about 7:30pm until 11:30pm. Greenhouse Effect? 10pm to 10:30pm. Diane arrival? 10:30pm. I have such great timing. So, alas… however, they tell me it was videotaped, this performance… I shall stay tuned to their MySpace page for updates. And, the good news: despite my absence for the post-set audience voting process, Greenhouse Effect was the WINNING BAND!!! WHOOO! Behold, les gagnants (with serious redeye, excuse the flash):P.S. One of the other band contenders that evening - listed as being of the genre "Death Metal/Hardcore" - was a band called "Corpse Division". Hahahahaha yesssssssss.

I hab a code.

Apologies for the lack of posts of late - I have acquired a cold, a congestion of the sinus passages which has rendered me quite sleepy and in constant need of tissues. The last thing one wants to be while abroad is phlegmy and snotty; alas, I am both. I kind of feel like this kid, face down in my French Wonder bread:More soon.

P.S. Who buys this spongy, overprocessed, crappy bread when France is the capital of Bread Awesomeness? I don't get it. Unless, maybe, the above picture is the recommended usage for said bread. In which case, by all means. Looks comfortable. Absorbs drool.

So much to lurve at the Louvre.

Okay. I wish this could be more of a lengthy post, but damn, I'm tired. And lazy. Drawing all day and again at the Louvre tonight. All good though, all good stuff. So, instead of blathering on here, I'll post a photo or two and call it a night. And also send you in the direction of the blog of one of my classmates, who has done a terrific job of blogging her experience not only in this class but in previous painting/drawing workshops. Voila, her name is Sadie. Enjoy.

And now for some photos:

Such drama.

The Great Dane.

In the context of the drawing class I’m taking, I recently came across a French-language monograph on the Danish 19th/20thcentury painter Vilhelm Hammershøi. I LOVE this guy’s work. LOVE. IT. After commiserating with one of the class instructors about the difficulty – and, more to the point, the expense – in obtaining a good book on Hammershøi’s work, the same instructor later directed my attention to information on the upcoming Hammershøi exhibit at the Royal Academy in London this summer. Oh my, how I would love to see that. Barring that, I will settle for the exhibition catalogue. Ahh.

In honor of Vilhelm’s awesomeness, I have for your viewing pleasure/amusement a little painting I did as a tribute; it's a painting of French artist Juliette Lemontey, with whom I exhibited in Grenoble last May:

à l’envers

oil on linen

10"x8"

2008

Diane Feissel