"It seems kind of gangster cute."

I just had to surface from end-of-semester-craziness to share this:



You can read the story instead of listening to it here. And you can see outakes and visuals below:


Crochet On A Bear Statue from Jennifer Sharpe on Vimeo.

Doing artsy things outside and being mystified by the lack of response from joggers, etc? I know nothing about it.

Path to Somewhere

One of the assignments for my Intro to Sculpture class was to go outside and make a sculpture. We had  Good Friday off last week, so my friend/classmate, Carrie, and I went to a park and went scouting along the bike trails until we found the perfect spot.

A tiny ravine + curving vines? Check yes!

We envisioned a little arched pathway into . . . well, where it might lead is for the viewer to explore or imagine. We began by untwisting loose vines from tree branches and adding them to our portion of bushes to make the faint arch that was already there stronger.



There's not much to see yet, but the vines we moved are there...

 Next came adding dead long grass, which was abundant along the trails.

Grass.

More grass.

Red seeds for a little color on gray day.

Really. This was the view directly behind us. It was supposed to rain all afternoon, but we were lucky; no rain fell while we worked.

The sun even came out when we were about done.



But of course the clouds came back. Here's the finished product; you can kind see a glimpse of the river through the arch.

 We called it quits at this point because we liked how our project looked, and the wind was also picking up and turning our arch into a furry wild thing. Curling pieces of grass began to fall gently to the ground, and I wish I'd been able to get a picture, because the piece only looked more beautiful as it began to fall apart. (And part of the project was letting our creation go back to nature.)

A few joggers and people out walking their dogs passed us as we worked, but only one person stopped to ask what we were doing. I was curious what joggers saw when they went past the arch, so I took a tiny run and then filmed it with my camera. I forgot that I can't rotate a movie halfway through, though, so you'll have to turn your head about halfway through:



I enjoy how the arch directs one's gaze straight through to the river. And that's another project done!

Carrie and Me: happy faces!



Much mud was stuck to the bottom of our boots. I recommend going outside and getting some stuck to yours, too. I felt like a kid playing outside again.


Happy Spring,

Babe from Bordeaux: Paris Part Un

A couple weeks ago I got on a plane and went to Paris. This is the first picture I took after a bus ride and short trip on the métro:

This is a man in a chicken suit with a Daffy Duck puppet on one hand in front of the Opéra. He was posing in pictures with people for money.

After dodging Chicken Man I went to the top of the Galeries Lafayette with a bunch of other people in my school's group. The Galeries Lafayette is a massive shopping center; we visited it on the recommendation of our tour guide, Rafael, who said that its roof has one of the best views of Paris. After about seven escalator rides (I lost count), I agreed with Rafael:

...you can't see the Eiffel Tower from the Eiffel Tower.

I should note that earlier my painting prof--of all people--coined a code-phrase for alerting all the ladies on the trip to the presence of hot Frenchen: Babe from Bordeaux. I spotted one on the roof:

Ironically, someone from my group got him to take a group picture of us shortly after I photo-creeped on him. He spoke English with a French accent; it turns out he studied in Alaska for awhile. It feels like I should say "small world," but I've never been to Alaska.

Me and my friend Becca on the roof. We're pretending we're not jet-lagged for this photo.

Seriously. My eyes wouldn't stop watering and trying to close. But jet lag didn't stop me from appreciating the shiny white tiles of the métro and the tiles made to look like elaborate frames around advertisements. (You'll have to take my word for all of this since I wasn't comfortable getting all snap happy around serious-looking Parisian commuters.)

Jet lag also couldn't spoil the Opera, or Palais Garnier.

The Grand Staircase, sans camera flash. I wish those were allowed . . .

The French social elite used to stand here to be seen. The opera wasn't the only show at Palais Garnier. The Opera's interior was also once described as a "temple of pleasure" and it looks like it. There are so many exquisite surfaces, though, that it's difficult to take in how nice a building it is. It's sort of like trying to appreciate a dessert with too much sugar or chocolate in it, if the latter is possible. Or perhaps it's just me. The building's exterior is gorgeous, too. (And walking around it, unlike the interior, is free.)

Jean-Baptiste Carpeaux's The Dance on the Opera's facade.

Say what you will about the creepy expressions of the female dancers--I like this sculpture. I particularly enjoy the energy of the male personification of Dance and the way his hands are flung out in the air as if to say, "Party!"

More photos coming soon,