Sunday, June 15, 2003

Back now from a few rejuvenating days in the mountains, with my traveling companion, the honorary nun Erica. The weather didn't really cooperate, so we only managed a few hours worth of hiking per day, but we did meet interesting people like the Ukrainian-American artist Andrei Protsouk. Protsouk's art explores the sensuality of women and the sensuality of food, sometimes both at once. Consider "Undine", a half-clothed woman with the tail of a shrimp, or "Pear-Lady"a fertile-appearing figure with pears nestled in her braid and another in her hand. The style is vibrantly colored, a neo-Cubist landscape of curves and lines resembling a sharp-edged Chagall with a love for treif. In person, the artist is friendly, talkative, with a charming accent. Of course, we two impoverished twentysomethings couldn't really buy any of the art, but we bought notecards which Protsouk signed for us. Lovely.

It's a squooshy! I have a squooshy! And it will be my squooshy, and I shall call it Squooshy...

[If I have misquoted, forgive me and know that I've been misquoting all week.]

I don't know that I've ever enjoyed a movie so much as Finding Nemo. Erica and I were squeaking, "That's so CUTE!" at each other every five minutes or so. Those readers who know me know that squealing in precious little voices is something that I prefer not to do, but, shall we say, Nemo broke down my inhibitions.

Vacation over, back to the Latin manuscript transcriptions... I showed a friend the manuscript I'm trying to read, and asked him what punishment was worthy of a scribe who wrote so illegibly. He thought for a few moments, and then said, "The scribe should be doomed to transcribe hundreds of pages of philosophy. From a Wingding font."


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