Boy, I hope I got that title grammatically correct en francais (and I think ‘francais’ needs that little curly tail underneath the ‘c’ here, but my computer is an ugly American one), for I am now taking a french class because I enjoy torturing myself. Life would be just plain boring if I did not try to make myself feel stupid on a regular basis. Keeping up with these kids straight out of high school is great sport. I especially enjoy springing into action when we all hit the computers to do some pop quizzes. The teacher keeps up with THEIR pace–not mine. I have become the class clown since I invariably can’t even log on to whatever it is we are doing. “Madame Lisa did you put the password in BEFORE your student number like I told you?” “No, it’s not your social security number, remember?”. “I’ll give it to you again, but this time write it down.” “You have no pen?” Kinda goes like that. That’s okay. I’m a world class counter in french, and I’m all the way up to 39 with an accent that would make Gerard Depardieu bend me over backwards and kiss my neck.
So here I am more in my element and doing what I am at least better at doing. This is the large drawing I have been bitching and moaning about that I finally commenced the other day. Never in my life have I done a more physically demanding piece of artwork. As you know the preparation for this thing was grueling, and now the drawing process is wreaking havoc on my right arm and upper back since it requires force to scrub the charcoal onto the rough surface. I actually went to the doctor the other day because my back hurt so bad. I was hoping he would give me vicodin, but all I got was some lousy celebrex. Actually I admit it works great. If only I can take it every day for the next few weeks until I finish this sucker without getting heart complications, blindness, impotence, hives, troubles sleeping, a desire to strangle ones spouse, headaches, unusual cravings for steak au poivre, or tremors. And when I am done, I am going to show a close-up before and after picture of my right bicep. Actually, I had to make a maulstick for this , and in fact, I even resort to using my left hand when my right arm gives out.
I love to torture myself. Au revoir.