Carnac

So, we went on our trip to the coast. To the very essence of the middle of nowhere. To the very essence of Bretagne. Intriguing, non?

When I said in my last entry that I was going to the northern coast, that was a blatant lie. I was purposefully deceiving you. We went in the exact opposite direction, plus pres de L’Isle de Groix where I had been last weekend. In fact, we passed through the same small towns. It felt very ironic.

So we went to the Gulf of Morbihan, which is about two hours south of Rennes. It was quite the trip.

We started at this crazy chateau in the middle of all of these adorable French cottages and farmlands. It’s the craziest (MUSIC: *is madcap*) chateau I’ve ever been to. It’s centuries old, I think it dates back to the sixteenth century, but it has been beautifully restored, and on its property (which is enormous) it houses 22 outdoor pieces of modern art. They’re in the woods and the river and the lawns, and one had to take a map as a guide. It’s really funny to appreciate all of this newly envisioned art on this truly antique property. But my art history teacher, Jean Philippe (who is the funniest man alive), thought it was fantastically interactive, it was adorable to see him get all excited about the greenhouse of empty flowerpots that had been painted bright red and arranged meticulously into rows of 67, or the giant silver fence surrounding half of a tree trunk on its side and a cardboard tractor.

I didn’t get it either. But JP found it fascinating.

And I have decided that when I grow older and make my fortune, I’m going to come back to this chateau and build an enormous birdcage on the middle of the front lawn, and have its door fixed open. That is my art. What do you think? Do you get it?

I’m going to name it “Pandora.”

And then I’ll put you all inside it, and lock you here in France with me. That’s right.

Also, there was an American artist in residence at thechateau while we were there, he gave a lecture. He is one of the coolest men walking the face of this earth (parallel to Mark Doty and Mr. Harris and whoever played Jamie in the Last 5 Years when we saw it at Dobama. Scott Plate.). He made this video of a gallery in Houston where he had fourteen different groups of people from all over the city like a 90-woamn barbershop choir and a yoga class and a special education class and a garage band and a crazy dance troupe come into this gallery and hold a normal meeting in the space while he recorded them, and then he edited all 14 together into this hilarious 30 minute piece that he projected life-size onto the gallery walls, and had people come in to see it. This way, he got all of these people and their friends and relatives involved with the gallery and interested in each other, plus it was the funniest video ever. He does stuff like this all over the world; he interacts with people and facilitates all this amazing personal exposure. It’s brilliantly done. He made another video of these men who work at a gas station/auto garage reading excerpts from Ulysses by James Joyce off of cue cards. It was unreal. And it was the randomest thing to experience here, of all places. In France. In a chateau. But I think we’re going to go back at the end of the year to see what he accomplishes. Everyone thought he was fantastic. His name’s Harrell Fletcher, I think he has a website (www.harrellfletcher.com) that I haven’t seen yet, but if he has any of his videos up for public enjoyment, take part. You won’t regret it.

After the chateau, we went to this tiny island to sleep. We stayed in a hostel of some kind, with dorm rooms and what not. And they roomed us! As in, they selected our roommates for us. The whole 3 days we were in Boston, it was completely up to us, but for that one night, they had us randomly arranged. It was slightly aggravating, but we spent very little time in our rooms, so no big deal, of course. The island was too small and bland to house any stories worth telling.

The next day, we went to Carnac, and saw the mehnirs. Does anyone know what a mehnir is? The one that everyone knows is in Great Britain, Stonehenge. Great formations of standing rocks, constructed by humans. Well, a menhir is one of the individual rocks that contributes to the overall structure. While this was no Stonehenge, it is still basically unbelievable. Carnac has over three thousand rocks and they’re over six thousand years old. I couldn’t think that largely. In the US, we have amazing sights, but they’re Niagara Falls and the Grand Canyon and things, and we just happen to have gotten lucky in the geographic lottery. This stuff was made by human beings, it was planned and constructed and left standing over millennia. And the carvings, in the stone. I kept tracing my fingers in the ridges, wondering how many people must have felt the same thing for five thousand years. It’s so alien. The rocks are arranged into lines, and they stretch for miles. People have been trying to understand the method behind the madness of the way they are arranged, but no one seems to have an answer yet. They’re some kind of sacred collective, most likely associated with the sun. But can you imagine how hard these peoples must have worked, and for how long? The way they stretch, I can imagine them never really finishing, just adding another couple of stones every season, letting the time pass. But I hope they felt successful, I hope it brought them renown. Is it only wonderful because it has been standing for six thousand years?

So I was basically just overall astounded by these big rocks. I mean, how could you not be? Seriously, this is not a rhetorical question. How could you not be astounded? You’ve seen it all before? You think all ancient civilizations were just being silly messing around with their rocks? You don’t believe in rocks at all? You have no brain and no soul and are merely a body that manages to move and speak and wear expensive clothes?

Ugh. I’m sorry. But the people here, they are disappointing. First of all, they are not nice. Many of them will not hesitate to exclude you to for no reason. While it hasn’t happened to be personally, thank god, I sit in the common room sometimes and it kills me a little inside every time I see this girl turn her back to that one, or that girl walk right by this one when she was waving hello. It’s almost savage. I thought I was going to come here and meet all of these brilliant, motivated, life-changing people who were seeking to expand their horizons and learn about themselves and feel at home in the world. But really, I feel like I’m surrounded by a large group of well endowed young boys and girls who wanted to add some spark to their college apps. Which I should’ve expected. But since I didn’t, it’s extra disappointing. And I’m sure that with time, I’ll get to know each and every one of them, and realize the intricate things about them that are being masked by the meaner defense mechanisms. Or that they are harboring some golden creative spirit. But until then, the comparison of these to those who I’ve left behind is just silly. It makes me miss you all so much.

I don’t want to make this sound like there’s no one here. It’s not that way at all. There are a few people, a good number of people that I have gotten close to and whom I appreciate honestly and sincerely. I hope I know them for the rest of my life. And there are even more who I’m hoping to get to know. But still, there are those people who looked at the menhirs and said, “Huh. Well. I’m tired.”

And that just… It made me die a little inside.

But through all of this, I know that I am growing. I can be independent, I can explore on my own, I know that no matter what, I have myself, and that’s good enough. And honestly, I’m finding that to be one of the most crucial things I’ve learned so far, even more than how to ask where the bathroom is, and it has only been three weeks. So there is a wonderful silver lining.

And, again, for my iPod donors, you are the smartest and best friends ever, and I can’t tell you how this wonderful little guy is getting me through my days.

It’s amazing.

I now have 1800 songs on it, and I don’t think I’ve used half the memory yet.

I have it with me every second.

We’ll be married as soon as it’s legal (happily, this issue is not being written into the constitution as of yet, but we’re trying to lay low and keep off of Bushie’s radar screen. Who knows who’s next once he’s done with those evil same-sex couples…).

No kidding.

Next entry, a full description of all my classes, because they do play such an enormous role in my life, and I feel this journal is somewhat lacking as far as their influence is concerned.

I miss you all.

Until Next Time,
"To come on all courageous
And offer you my hand
To pull you up on to dry land
When all I got is sinking sand
The trick ain't worth the time it buys
I'm sick of hearing my own lies
And love's a raven when it flies"
David Gray: “The Other Side”

(The other night, I fell asleep with his CD “White Ladder” on repeat, and I realized just how wonderful he is. I suggest you all get out there and live it too.)

COUNTDOWN to return: 241 days