Over summer, I stayed in the south of France between living in Lille and Paris. In my final month – October – I lived in Sanary-sur-Mer, a small town near Toulon on the French Riviera.
Writer and editor Erin McFayden reflects on framing artistic activities as labour and advocating exploring the good it creates rather than its economic value – as well as her reccs for some artistic endeavours.
Back in Melbourne, when friends ask How’s your French? I say that I sit down to my French class each week, and I can get through my chores. I can check for my allergens on packaging. I can read menus at a bistro and signs on the metro. At the beach, I understand children speaking to their parents about poisson in la mer. I understood the drunk man on a bike telling me about the bon chien across the road.
What’s so sweet about being 16? “Freedom, experimentation, fun,” according to Brian Ritchie, Artistic Director of Mona Foma and ex-Violent Femmes bassist, as he describes Tasmania’s summer festival of music and art’s sixteenth edition.
Exhibitions at Footscray Community Arts (FCA) benefit from a large window at the gallery’s rear, looking out at the Maribyrnong River and Melbourne’s skyline.
On a sunny day, the view sparkles, and the art beams back under the rays. Now, bring colour into it: Bright, on show until 12 December, turns the space into a full sensory delight.
Last year, I uploaded a vlog with my first 100 days in Lille, which I’ve since made private because 1) I feel like it wasn’t very good as one of my first vlogs and 2) I had way too many personal thoughts floating around in those subtitles. But here we go again – more meanderingly melancholy musings on living in the cold north of France, this time my last 100 days in the city.