A Free Man

I was thrilled when I drew Jennifer from No Place Like It for my second go at the Great Interview Experiment. Like your underwhelming correspondent, Jennifer is an expat (a Canadian in Paris) dragged overseas in a net of romantic entanglement with a furriner. Like myself, she seems happy to stay in her adopted home. Unlike myself, she’s a talented graphic artist - all of the images in this post are hers and she does commissioned portraits as well.

It was great to get to know a little more about Jennifer who gave wonderfully thorough answers to my questions. The only thing I’m left unclear about is exactly what a “shooter girl” does…
AFM: We’re both willing and long term expats. What drove you to make the trans-Atlantic migration?

JC: Actually, like most things in my life, it was a question of just going with it…

In high school, I toured around France on a school trip and I LOVED IT (despite the fact that nearly every place we had dinner, they served us cordon bleu). I loved France so much (all that old stuff) that I suddenly had this burning desire to learn French (and this despite the fact that I studied Spanish in high school – contrary to popular belief, not all Canadians speak French and especially so those Canadians who grow up in Alberta.)

That being said, I tottled off to art school and forgot all about the French thing. I was too busy analysing post modern art in Canada (completely useless by the way), drawing, designing, critiquing, etc… After art school though, I had a post-higher education identity crisis. I studied jewellery and metalsmithing and found myself with very little desire to continue behind a jeweller’s bench.

I drifted a bit with retail jobs and then I had this epiphany when I realised that I could get a British passport (through my Dad). I remember having this thrill of excitement when I realised that I could study science in Aberdeen if I wanted to… (I was pretty good in science and math in high school). So, I made Europe my mission.

I worked like a dog for about 8 months to save up (temporary secretary by day, coffee shop barista by night and, during the Calgary Stampede, a shooter girl in a country and western bar – that was an experience!). My plan? flying into London (my cousin had a flat there), travelling Europe on the rails like any other twenty-something, go back to London, squat my cousin’s flat for awhile, find work and then see what happened. My airplane ticket back to Calgary was an open ended one that expired after a year…

As it happens, I ran into my husband-to-be (Mr C on my blog) in an Irish pub in the Marais district of Paris right before hopping on a train to Berlin. When I let him know that I was coming back through Paris a month and a half later, he met me at the train and took me home. Something told me that it was right.

AFM: What is the story behind the title of your blog (“No place taste like it.”) and the header image?

JC: When I first started blogging, my header had a red shoe in it because the idea of the blog was initially wizard-of-oz-esque “There’s No Place Like… It.” I think my secondary line was, “We’re not in Canada anymore, Toto.” The header migrated to being a photo that I took in Paris somewhere of a grainy old sewer pipe gargoyle with the secondary line “What Part of No Did You Not Understand?” Mr C hated that blog header: “Too Dark, Too Ominous. Iz Not You….”

Dude was right.

So I made another header in illustrator of a Tree with Stars hanging down out of the branches with “No Place Like It… for putting down roots.” That one was up for quite a while…

Last year, I participated quite a lot in Illustration Friday and one week, we had the drawing prompt “clear”. I remember sitting in the metro and thinking about it, and then I came up with the idea of licking a pane of glass. It just sort of hit me. Out of nowhere.

A couple of months later, I decided to pull that image into illustrator and created “Lick”… who loves the computer screen so much that she can’t help… well… licking it. I put her up as my avatar and then eventually pulled her into a header because I like her so much. She’s represents the silliness I wish I could do more often… like cartwheeling in the halls at work…

Anyway, she’s licking, so taste seemed warranted… but nobody, for the love of god, “gets” the Shrek reference to “Onions? Cakes? Parfaits?” I need to pull in a secondary line that says “This Blog Has Layers. Onions have Layers, Blogs have Layers. You get it? Blogs have layers.” or something.

AFM: I love Paris. I nearly took a job there instead of in Oxford. One of the things that put me off was the language barrier. Now you are Canadian and probably have a better grasp of French than I did. However, even in Britain (where we purportedly share a common language) I often find myself “lost in translation”. Tell me your favorite lost in translation story.

JC: No… Even as a Canadian, I had no idea how to speak French when I got here. Not even the numbers. The last time I had taken a French class was in Grade 6.

When I first got here, I was really shy about speaking but Mr C forced me to do as much speaking as I could and eventually I developed a thick skin regarding my mistakes. I got a job at a Money Changing Desk place (I was one of those poor souls sitting behind bullet-proof glass (thankyouverymuch) in the tourist districts) and boy, I learned French fast because I didn’t want the clients to know that I could understand them because that meant that they would be able to argue with me when they realised that they got the short end of the stick. Once, a Russian fellow actually called the cops on me. I had to explain… in French… that the rates were all on a board behind me… it was hardly my fault if the fellow didn’t negotiate the rates before having his money changed… course the sign was in French and he couldn’t read it…. My soul squirmed as I said this to the police officers but they nodded and walked away. The Russian guy was their problem now because somebody had to be responsible…

Word: ALWAYS negotiate your money change rates. Not a lot of people know that you can play one money change desk off another. (And that is my public service message for today…)

Every expat learning a language has their favourite language screw-ups. Poutres (wooden beams) has nothing to do with putes (whores) but the difference in pronunciation is rather slight. My favourite language faux pas were not major, or embarrassing, but fortunately rather cute… confusing décalage horreur ([time]gap horror) with décalage horaire ([time] gap – relating to jet lag) or honestly thinking that the expression was “qui aime bien, chatouille bien” (you tickle the people you like, more or less) with “qui aime bien, chatie bien” (you punish the people you like, more or less… ) Who could blame me? The real French expression makes no sense at all!

AFM: OK, purely selfish question. You’re raising two kids in Paris an ocean away from their maternal grandparents. I’ll be raising at least one kid in Australia an ocean or two away from his paternal grandparents. How do you juggle grandparental longing with the rapidly increasing cost of air travel? I’m looking for hints.

JC: I am a terrible daughter. I haven’t been back to Canada in almost three years. My mom took matters into her own hands and came here at one point. Part of the reason why I haven’t been back is the rise in air fare. Travelling with two kids is the pits AND it’s bloody expensive. So my solution is one kid at a time. My son has been very patient since it’s his turn next. I figure a trip over there at Hallowe’en should make amends…

The blog helps. Part of why I do it, is to record bits of their personalities and the silly things they do and say. I think Kilian has got a comic character in him, begging to be let out. We’ll see if I manage to put it down on paper one of these days… Though, that being said, I was actually thinking of him when I did my silly “Nice Beaver” cartoon… (He would be Herb)

AFM: Who’s your favorite blogger? Why?

JC: I don’t really have a favourite blogger, per se. There are a couple of blogs that I go to right away if I see them in my “feed”. (For example: Tales from Clark Street and Schmutzie). I’m not a fantastic commenter, but I like sneaking peeks at people’s lives. There are so many fascinating people out there!

AFM: What are your favorite things about living in Paris? Least favorite?

JC: Least favourite? Hands down, the public transportation. I often gripe about it on my blog. Blogs are meant for venting, after all. Just this week, I was trapped in a stopped train with hundreds of other people. The heat was pumping out of the heaters to such an extent that I thought my tights were going to burst into flame. All of us were packed in there… Sweating. Ugh.

Most favourite? Wandering the central districts of Paris by the Seine River at night… All the historical buildings glow. And the Eiffel Tower glitters every hour. It is absolute magic. I also love how people spontaneously get together to celebrate the Big Events. When France won the Soccer World Cup in 1998, all hell broke out and It. Was. Good. It was absolutely amazing to take part in a celebration that brought everyone together. Didn’t matter who you were, you were out in the streets screaming your head off in joy.

AFM: You’re a talented graphic artist. Some of your work is clearly inspired by Lewis Carroll’s “Alice in Wonderland” which is one of my favorite tales as well. I live in the same city as did Carroll and have explored some of the spots that inspired him. Tell me what parts of “Alice” speaks to you.

JC: First of all, thank you. Regarding Alice in Wonderland, there is definitely a correlation between Alice and an expat. Alice finds herself floating down into a world filled with non sense. Should she do this, should she do that, how is it possible to deal with “Mad Folks” and is it really a good idea to take the Cheshire cat’s advice?… My Cheshire Cat is my husband Mr C.

For example, once Mr C and I were watching a French film on the telly and partouze was mentioned. Not knowing what this meant, I asked Mr C what it was. He told me to ask my colleague and when I did, she burst out laughing. It means orgy. God how he loves to throw me into awkward situations to see how I react…

Yes, Alice makes sense to me because she tried to make so many reasonable decisions based on things she’d never seen or heard of before. I can relate to that.

AFM: What do you miss most about Canada?

JC: Sunshine. That “all the time” kind of sunshine. Paris is kind of gloomy and grey. At least, after growing up in Calgary, supposedly the sunniest spot in Canada, it sure is.

And snow (I know… it’s sooooo wrong to miss snow. But I do. BTW: I mean snow in the fields, not on the front walk.)

I also miss proper junk food.

Oh yeah. I miss my family too.

AFM: What artists or songs would be featured in the soundtrack to your life?

Depeche Mode: High School
Sarah Maclachlan/Nine Inch Nails: College
Susanne Vega/Björk: First years in France (I only had these CDs since none of my stuff had been shipped over yet)
Then Moby, Benébar (French), Nickelback, Butterfly Boucher and a bunch of other favourites since then (I also have a guilty pleasure in listening to the disco jive of Pet Shop Boys and the Las Vegas Cowboy nonsense of The Reverend Horton Heat).

AFM: If you could pick one of your images as a favorite (I’m sure it’s like picking your favorite child) which would it be and why?

I immediately thought of “Discovery”.

The figures are rather wonky, but I love how spontaneous it feels. How the colours melt in the background and how the figures look like they are dappled by the light filtering through the foliage above. This image represents the work I would like to do more of, and the things that could be managed if I took the time to learn the processes that render a watercolour so liquid and full of light.

AFM: Tell me about “April in Paris”.

April in Paris starts to get underway in March… the days start getting noticeably longer, jackets are lighter and humours have started to lift. The grass starts to flesh itself out while birds dive and chitter amongst themselves on dew soaked lawns. Leaves embrace the freshening air and the winter clouds part to let sparkles of sunshine through.

Terraces fill up as the temperature slowly rises, each patron passionately engaged in his or her conversation, their hands add tempo to their speech. The drink of choice is the kir (black current syrup in white wine) or a simple espresso.

Parks are thronged with people taking advantage of the spring freshness in the air. Often going to the Tuileries or Luxembourg gardens to watch children push wooden boats across fountains.

People amble in the streets or along the Seine, wandering in and out of shops or furtively browsing the books being peddled by the riverside booksellers.

Yes, it is like they portray it in the movies…

Image credits:

They are all original artworks and

Discovery

Magnolia Blossoms from my Backyard

Alice Falling

 

 Count Basie - "April In Paris" [3:49m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Popularity: 23% [?]