salamanca (and hair)

22 07 2007


Universidad de Salamanca, a photo taken during Friday’s trip to the city- be sure to note the Mozarabic ceiling! I have a lot of art history studying to do today for our second test which will be tomorrow. Appropriately, this one is on the topic of Mozarabic and Asturian art. After that, there is one more test and a paper due next Monday and then the final on Wednesday, the last day of class.

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This photo is from San Sebastian, at a cafe in the Plaza Mayor. Yes, it is cool looking, but what I want to point out is the hair color of the woman sitting at another cafe table. It is purple. There is definitely a Spanish/European style and it is very different from the United States. It is less conservative, more creative and fun, whether it means to be or not. There seems to be no apprehension about appearing youthful. I have seen more than a few older ladies with bright red, pink or purple hair. I find that inspiring. The same goes for hair styles, they are all different and creative and worn with such confidence that they look cute no matter what. So to make a long story short, I cut my hair. So far, people seem to think it is unfathomable that I cut my own hair without being a professional hairstylist, but the way I view it is this: since I am an art student (dare I call myself an artist?) who works with all different kinds of mediums, why it is so improbable that one of the mediums I can work with is hair? It is similar to sculpting or cutting or designing any other project I may work on. I even used the same scissors!


In short (pun intended) both me and my hair are happier when it is shorter. It actually curls itself nicely, isn’t too dry or frizzy, I can go to bed with it wet and wake up and get ready without ever having to do anything to it!  What was I waiting for to cut it short again?  I don’t know.  I think this is another case of “girl afraid,” I didn’t have enough faith in myself to think I could do a good job again.  I’d like to thank the ladies of Spain for inadvertently inspiring me.


ease your feet in the sea

9 07 2007

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Took a bus on Saturday to San Sebastian, up on the northern coast of Spain and very close to France. The weather wasn’t ideal but for that reason, I think I enjoyed it more. There was no one around. The mist of rain in the air reminded me of Niagara Falls. Finding a place to stay was nearly impossible, I learned really fast what “completo” means. A group of five of us went but only two stayed back in San Sebastian, the others went on to Pamplona for the running of the bulls. I like animals and dislike crowds too much to be around anything like that. Everyone has their own definition of “fun,” mine would probably be trying to hug a cow rather than teasing it and running from it. Eventually a hotel was found, we got their last room, small yet still out of our ideal price range. It looked like a setting appropriate for a French nouvelle vague movie of the 1960’s and I mean that in the best way possible. Jenny and I went out for dinner at a little Middle Eastern place where we pleasantly changed the server’s perception of Americans and then visited the beach.

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