tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79580499705717732042024-02-22T11:32:56.766+01:00Chase'n ParisA bilingual kid's thoughts about bi-cultural life in Paris FranceChase Emery Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05897305711866059258noreply@blogger.comBlogger23125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958049970571773204.post-23783750738044310742012-10-27T18:46:00.000+02:002012-10-27T18:46:00.078+02:00A Trip ToThe Louvre Pigs and Princesses<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf_KHHYjsaHVOYcvz7w_7M0DNZUK8qGCdPpdjx2Opr55Bo0DyEXYUczNzebdFH1nFZq2Fh-PiKYOs0B3W9ar_EABt9VymJu6mg-KMOb8aexFo_biipfFkzjHIZPrRVQTxTDeGDWgQIiWc/s1600/IMG_5216.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf_KHHYjsaHVOYcvz7w_7M0DNZUK8qGCdPpdjx2Opr55Bo0DyEXYUczNzebdFH1nFZq2Fh-PiKYOs0B3W9ar_EABt9VymJu6mg-KMOb8aexFo_biipfFkzjHIZPrRVQTxTDeGDWgQIiWc/s640/IMG_5216.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Installation of Wim Delvoye au Louvre </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4NLPrRRK4aqiGyRCsrBW6nORvVC97ct9v_ItpVrJ2XkII7sQsvzGeUyobWtcBcdt1KsDKA-I-LuW81AGKnBcIo7pJdZyZl1qBCytwtBHClrga9WIcjktRpcJp5cuJ8Aw_nre8UOY9w_A/s1600/IMG_5232.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4NLPrRRK4aqiGyRCsrBW6nORvVC97ct9v_ItpVrJ2XkII7sQsvzGeUyobWtcBcdt1KsDKA-I-LuW81AGKnBcIo7pJdZyZl1qBCytwtBHClrga9WIcjktRpcJp5cuJ8Aw_nre8UOY9w_A/s1600/IMG_5232.JPG" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi577rogDfHD9zMJJKclqbx_HuiiLNtIWS-NduV8-StL9B4FIU3nGLOy5Bd0YQ2NY2XLHAavBMvNY-DRmfOIiPnMVqw7Zb9yP8p8Ai-kLb8bLt-ieiDF5X4gbs3GMjKCSti0tnDysAaY2Q/s1600/IMG_5219.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi577rogDfHD9zMJJKclqbx_HuiiLNtIWS-NduV8-StL9B4FIU3nGLOy5Bd0YQ2NY2XLHAavBMvNY-DRmfOIiPnMVqw7Zb9yP8p8Ai-kLb8bLt-ieiDF5X4gbs3GMjKCSti0tnDysAaY2Q/s1600/IMG_5219.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi577rogDfHD9zMJJKclqbx_HuiiLNtIWS-NduV8-StL9B4FIU3nGLOy5Bd0YQ2NY2XLHAavBMvNY-DRmfOIiPnMVqw7Zb9yP8p8Ai-kLb8bLt-ieiDF5X4gbs3GMjKCSti0tnDysAaY2Q/s640/IMG_5219.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
The work of <a href="http://www.wimdelvoye.be/">Wim Delvoye</a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxNQYfx5erwRE2MPRXRyOGzMfdOxuX4H2Ys43uo88ukg3tw-t87iADQ6POaUaEHJbl96-KM5lQSGMmokcIE15QDG30T_bZtwYbBJeVFYzCcVIshyphenhyphen828guTw_ZczA0rVMR3R4KiXKBXAFI/s1600/p1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxNQYfx5erwRE2MPRXRyOGzMfdOxuX4H2Ys43uo88ukg3tw-t87iADQ6POaUaEHJbl96-KM5lQSGMmokcIE15QDG30T_bZtwYbBJeVFYzCcVIshyphenhyphen828guTw_ZczA0rVMR3R4KiXKBXAFI/s1600/p1.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Majolica to you too</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4H7OEszW0hSlISSnsNqSUuDvi29Hk5pPz5W3aNKuhsNrfIKfR7dT8ytY7e-NEG8YKvwekeT3Xys5nrqeJNv_aheYkaT74EcVquOIDwGsYvrAu8z5L9pXkGlBFURblD_es8Iw2_GqLfv0/s1600/p2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4H7OEszW0hSlISSnsNqSUuDvi29Hk5pPz5W3aNKuhsNrfIKfR7dT8ytY7e-NEG8YKvwekeT3Xys5nrqeJNv_aheYkaT74EcVquOIDwGsYvrAu8z5L9pXkGlBFURblD_es8Iw2_GqLfv0/s1600/p2.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Stag gun powder horn</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Watch out she is armed</div>
Chase Emery Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05897305711866059258noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958049970571773204.post-24676931831141310022012-10-22T18:22:00.000+02:002012-10-22T19:32:00.311+02:00French High School Diary Part I, Cabbages<div style="text-align: center;">
Or why I am now going to school in England.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>French High School
Diaries Part I</b></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b> </b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<b>Back Story</b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWKCd23HgCnRt_H3h9poOvwatCR9_i_sEE5FsapZ4N7Bu0qP2AIRtlxSxleqno5GfY7DN0znVNPXsxaQmQlBgabuHkHlEBg9reJBpOcx_t1mtwazJrw43RQJqAGCfSE9V5LOyuQO4H_wA/s1600/cabbage+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWKCd23HgCnRt_H3h9poOvwatCR9_i_sEE5FsapZ4N7Bu0qP2AIRtlxSxleqno5GfY7DN0znVNPXsxaQmQlBgabuHkHlEBg9reJBpOcx_t1mtwazJrw43RQJqAGCfSE9V5LOyuQO4H_wA/s640/cabbage+2.jpg" width="458" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I was moved to Paris from
the blissful mountains of northern New Mexico at the tender age of
two. I don't remember much of this, and now It seems
to me that I've always been in France.
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
My father speaks French, and has always had a thing for the French and France. My mom
is linguistically challenged, and is not a great fan of the French.
C'est la vie. Vive la différence!</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I have had no choice, I have had to adapt. I live
inside an English speaking family in a French speaking country. I
have always gone to French schools, where it's been trial by fire. It has taken nerves of steel to maintain a positive attitude, and a sense of humor.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
So in France I became a "Petite choux", a
little cabbage (child). With the hair style called, choucroute, named after an Alsatian cabbage dish. From children to hairdos, the French are
always comparing things to cabbages.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzxowfWFodSUXDqyK3EVBp5RQ1jhBmuga695f_zYVv5hYtgvV7krq5aW3TgFveBYG_x_B1UPpAUWJ0p21LKXD_zLrFc0a_23PKyfEyI_UsVJq2IzuDlILeQSiRGquXaqywuMFTMnscX1w/s1600/cabbage+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzxowfWFodSUXDqyK3EVBp5RQ1jhBmuga695f_zYVv5hYtgvV7krq5aW3TgFveBYG_x_B1UPpAUWJ0p21LKXD_zLrFc0a_23PKyfEyI_UsVJq2IzuDlILeQSiRGquXaqywuMFTMnscX1w/s320/cabbage+1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Chase Emery Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05897305711866059258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958049970571773204.post-36932957145361683622012-07-01T23:21:00.001+02:002012-10-22T18:22:35.322+02:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj-5WT7wK9KQARxf32OTvbtKyjhUDOr3hlApaYBsKGIkJPn7J5M5KJxvYCknwU1h9avaeGut3wpMSdidmnaEQGJLcQ7uDvFh_K2akQB4B__Hotqp5hYKob-TDuP0uQ9qMzd7osc3Zo14w/s1600/IMG_4136.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="177" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj-5WT7wK9KQARxf32OTvbtKyjhUDOr3hlApaYBsKGIkJPn7J5M5KJxvYCknwU1h9avaeGut3wpMSdidmnaEQGJLcQ7uDvFh_K2akQB4B__Hotqp5hYKob-TDuP0uQ9qMzd7osc3Zo14w/s320/IMG_4136.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<style type="text/css">
<!--
@page { margin: 0.79in }
P { margin-bottom: 0.08in }
</style>
-->
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">She, departed</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
How am I to presume that loves radiant
shadow fall,</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
To the dark interior of life's call,</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
New feelings are laid in your way, they
cry</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
New stars now to seek,</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
That I should not look at my life as
something bleak.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
But instead, free, fly, but then
plummet in remembrance,</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
the wave of passion, had carried me to
far,</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
as was the excuse of the betrayal,</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
as is my understanding of the weeping
willow,</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
Why do you weep so?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
Did she leave you to, tell you that you
were to far from the shore,</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
From the beach of familiarity and
regularity,</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
Is that why you slouch, you feel, as if
the forever green of your leaves</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
Should loose there radiance and fall.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
If you hear me now, do not feel for me,</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
If you did it would but hurt, not see, nor
feel</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
Nor know if the world was still turning, for</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
You as you are, shall be as you
are, shall be as to me, a memory of love,</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
And what, perhaps, it shouldn't be.</div>
Chase Emery Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05897305711866059258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958049970571773204.post-39173650500240084002012-06-25T17:31:00.003+02:002012-06-25T17:31:35.988+02:00River Of Fire<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipF9eBLUFWqryGsSqxYNhQtZ2Pv_x1vSJf6vfey7byF5U8D1ib0rwC-D3HA0mfM1IbBAtFhtIVYLe6CYU16ZjTbnhP7BTiK8f9SDyLtyXaREdtP94dHcpVrIiW7oPPaRAuQ00WHgA1660/s1600/2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipF9eBLUFWqryGsSqxYNhQtZ2Pv_x1vSJf6vfey7byF5U8D1ib0rwC-D3HA0mfM1IbBAtFhtIVYLe6CYU16ZjTbnhP7BTiK8f9SDyLtyXaREdtP94dHcpVrIiW7oPPaRAuQ00WHgA1660/s320/2.jpeg" width="215" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<style type="text/css">
<!--
@page { margin: 0.79in }
P { margin-bottom: 0.08in }
-->
</style>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">River of Fire</span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">What river of
fire is that at the hill top,</span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">No hill, for
her heart, a mountain, indeed,</span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Perfect in
that, a radiant crop,</span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">That is, but
itself, and will at that lead.</span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Where are you
from, a star, an ocean, a deep green forest,</span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">You, as you
are, shall be as you are, shall be as to me,</span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">A great
triumph, a proud and honorable crest,</span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;">But, as if an
angels call, you respond to me, that I no longer ask, what is she.</span></div>Chase Emery Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05897305711866059258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958049970571773204.post-43539832286266361252012-06-24T13:35:00.001+02:002012-06-24T23:06:14.131+02:00Man Of The Night<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik3sRWZYWPp4NkHHhbCjpI7fe0G8p6Re0vIdNTVE8herC_xTZBKetup2IucmU35VG1gKWvGG1w1yo8F-D5lMHVpy_2DkaSR0ZJnqoQlDDHroxcRNpIitfXVbg_5FUL9RDRTopEQb8nmuQ/s1600/Chase+art+.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik3sRWZYWPp4NkHHhbCjpI7fe0G8p6Re0vIdNTVE8herC_xTZBKetup2IucmU35VG1gKWvGG1w1yo8F-D5lMHVpy_2DkaSR0ZJnqoQlDDHroxcRNpIitfXVbg_5FUL9RDRTopEQb8nmuQ/s400/Chase+art+.jpeg" width="270" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<style type="text/css">
<!--
@page { margin: 0.79in }
P { margin-bottom: 0.08in }
-->
</style><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Man
Of The Night</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;">
The man of the
night, yes, we all know him, living in the shadow that life provides,
his light heart hidden by his cloak, his eyes tenderly veiled by his
hat, gazing into his peripheral darkness, and then, the undeniable,
and yet unaccountable truth of his life. It is to this extent that
his pain commences, on a unstoppable plummet towards madness, or
other forms of safety, it is also from this that we barely know him,
molding his mask to smile, his eyes, dead. Do we love him for it, the
constant worry and awkward conversation, in which, interwoven with a
wall of secrecy, is his love, blocked, unseen, till the warm grieving
hands of death melt it away, that only love should remain. Love, in a
place, a memory, a letter, love that would heal his wounds as well as
yours, or mine, that forever he shall remain, man of the light.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Turning a corner,
I walked down the hall toward the door, already open, letting in a
dazzling white light from a street lamp. At first I was blinded,
seeing nothing but a man's shadowy outline, smoothly shifting from
side to side like a metronome, confused, I ran forward and out of the
door, the light was dimming now, and I could just make out an old
wrinkly face gazing passively at me. With the light still imprinted
against my retina, I stumbled, trying to regain my balance and sense
of direction. Holding myself steady against the wall, half kneeling,
I looked up. There he was, on time for once, holding a crocodile
briefcase, always the pretentious attention seeker, wearing his usual
beige coat, that resembled more a cloak then anything else, and his
wide rimed hat. “Hey pops” said said I, he grunted in reply, and
perhaps tilted his head an inch in acknowledgment. I couldn't see
his eyes, then again, I never really had, he had always hidden them
from me, “a gateway to who someone really is” some say. I suppose
that this is what angered me so much about him, his boasting, his
patronizing, it infuriated me, I didn't know him.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
With a forceful
jerk of his head, he indicated that we should start walking. Always
in control, through some kind of unnoticed manipulation, another
betrayal. As we walked down the street, I was perplexed to see that,
through the corner of my eye, it seemed as if he were gliding beside
me, no tremulous juddering of footsteps, and yet, when I looked at
his feet, everything seemed quite normal, in fact his usual smugness,
and sense of superiority, emanated from each step, not only normal,
but expected. As we past street after street, my legs started to
ache, but his step never faltered for a instant, he didn't so much as
flinch when a car siren went of right next to us, or when a bird
swooped down and briefly landed on his hat, before being violently,
even heartlessly, waved away. “we sure shared some good time. Ay
Pop!?” he mumbled something in reply, I frowned, looking down at
the ground, my fists clenched, holding back tears of rage. “Pop!?”
no answer “Why were you in Germany when you told nan you were on a
business meeting in New York, before you guys moved to Paris?”, he
stopped dead in his footsteps, an almost perfect statue. He replied
with one, piercing word, that he uttered with such force and
severity, that it made me wish I hadn't said anything, “How?”. I
looked at him blandly, but I was shocked, and fearful, of what he
might say, what he might do, I didn't know him. “I, I... saw,
pictures” I said hesitantly “Hmm” he answer in a voice that
rumbled, like two boulders being repetitively smashed against each
other. He continued walking, without waiting for me, I rushed forward
to catch up with him, “I am sorry!” I said “but they were, kind
of, just laying there, on your desk” I looked at him innocently
“but then I put them away, no one would see” He clenched his
fists and walked even faster,and then it hit me, like a huge wave, of
impenetrable, unstoppable, realization. I stopped “You were trying
to tell her” I called after him “weren't you? Nan?” I said in a
softer voice, he stopped as well, and turned, so that is face was
looking straight at me, but his body as parallel, his arms by his
side, as if ready to fight.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
What had I done? I
couldn't bear it, it wasn't true, he just looked at me “I...” my
voice trailed of “I... didn't... didn't... know...I... love you”
I din't know why I said it, or how it happened to come out of my ever
restraining mouth, but Suddenly, unexpectedly, his body relaxed, and
he faced me, beaconing me forward with his big clumsy arms, I had
never seen him like this before. I ran forward, young, a child,
“Pop?” I said, my voice breaking, smiling, my arms held out in
front of me. I reached him, and as I through my arms around his
waist, I felt his warm stomach, so comforting, relaxing, I closed my
eyes, smiling. He put his hand on my shoulders and pushed me, ever so
slightly away, and bestowed a kiss o my forehead, had anyone said it
to him before, had the world said it, had I, three simple words that
made music in him, such harmonious music, as the one that the heart
yearns to create, to live, love, to set upon someone, the gifts of
his music, to make them sore, feeling the world, feeling his heart
pound, marking the drum, marking him, setting him free.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We walked some
more, coming to a little park, we sat on a bench, surrounded, by
lamps, and their pure white light, rings seemed to float around each
one, as his a celestial call, or beckoning was taking place. The
lights seemed to be getting stronger, all of a sudden he turned and
for the first time, taking of his hat said “I miss you, you that,
right?” The light was even more powerful, almost blinding, and as I
turned to look at him, perplexed, he had gone, but how, I could still
feel his presence, his new joyful self. Then I remembered, he was
gone, and had been for five, unresolved years, and that I remember him
should be his only time back on earth, and should others too, should
be the same, three simple words, were his resolution, the key to his
cage, “I love you”. He was now, man of the light.
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>Chase Emery Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05897305711866059258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958049970571773204.post-76968853554020760402012-06-24T11:15:00.004+02:002012-06-24T11:15:44.465+02:00The Falling of a Leaf <style type="text/css">
<!--
@page { margin: 0.79in }
P { margin-bottom: 0.08in }
-->
</style>
<br />
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>The
Falling of a Leaf</b></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><b>C.E.Davis</b></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="background: transparent; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Bleak, solemn, dead.
That is what this once beautiful planet so rich with color and life
has become. Not even the flutter of a bird's wings can be heard, no,
the world is devoid of such a sound. Such a music it was, why mute
it? Why, why, why!!! Such stupid questions we ask when the answers
are so obvious, but like a devious parent we ask those questions. You
are idiotic father/mother, face the facts, you do not exist, or do
not care. So, we were created in your image, mother, that nature has
blessed, but see where we are now. If you are good, we are not, and
it is absolute and final that we were indeed created in your image,
oh lord of lords, king of kings, then you are not defined for it must
be us in our inferior status that must be wrong. Therefore, let us
assume that you are greater then us, so insignificant, and we are
wrong, it is justified to say that you are not defined, undefinable,
for we have no right to define. If you are so kind you would have
talked, guided and helped, but this is not so, look what has come of
your indolence. Therefore we define you not, and only hold you in us
as that part of our being that is undefined, untouched, presumably
given to us by you, but no, you exist only for us, you exist, for we
created you father, to take care of your children, to blame for our
faults. But that creation was weak and has led us to death.</span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="background: transparent; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="background: transparent; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">What do you know
about death!?” yelled Adam, “Hey, I asked you a question!”he
said. “What do you know about death!?” he said in barely a
whisper his jaws aquiver with rage. The old face was worn and tired,
the locked secrets of a whole race were in his heart and seemed to
bear upon him an aura of eternal suffering. Adam laughed in a forced
fashion, he bowed his face, and, as he looked up, his pale blue eyes
reflected the grey sun, for the dark clouds were a constant filter,
Adam was used to this dead light by now. A tear trickled down the old
man's cheek following the contours of the wrinkled face, a tear, so
innocent and delicate in the destitute void which was the desert
around him. An image suddenly flew through his mind as thin and sharp
as a knife cutting into his very soul, a tree, a women, blood, it was
all too overwhelming, the man keeled over in pain and tears gushed
out of his eyes as blood would a deep wound. “What do you know
about death !!!” he yelled again, pounding his head “you...
you...death...you shit” Adam was now on all fours “You stole
everything... you thief...what do you know about death, death?” he
laughed “You do not even know yourself” and then he was quiet,
sobbing.</span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="background: transparent; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="background: transparent; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Memories, memories,
so treacherous, so dangerous to those who's quick brains permit it.
“Why am i left in this empty world, to feel, to suffer, to die by
the hand of an old friend” said Adam calmly once his tears were but
wet lines on his reddened face, an other, if more recent memory of
pain and suffering. Adam had encountered death before, and had
developed a thick and torturous bond with the fellow, so much as to
call him an old friend. Adam was alone, “Alone you say” said Adam
with a chuckle “Not as long as i have my sand, and land” he said
picking up and childishly throwing in the air while madly laughing,
dirt and rubble from the desert floor and the crumbled fragments of
buildings, which had stood so bravely and boldly, as had Adam, and
were now but fragments, fragments of and old, worn, and almost
inchoate memory.</span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="background: transparent; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="background: transparent; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">With difficulty,
Adam stood up, his weak bones cracking as was the sand and rubble
under his feet. As he bent over to pick up his walking stick, which
was in fact a thick branch, he forced his old and fragile shell to
the remains of a park, no longer green, but yellow, a dreadful
reminder of sunny days, happy days, “Better days” said Adam
lowering his head and then the rest of his weightless cargo, to lay
on his stomach, his nose pressed upon the dead grass, breathing in an
inexistent smell, a smell of grass that he had once known what
seemed to be long, long ago. With the little strength that he had, he
prostrated himself into a cross-legged position, his hands, resting
one on top of the other in the center of his crossed legs, as in
mediation, but his eyes were wide open, starring in front of him. His
face, slowly, very slowly, became white and lifeless. A leaf suddenly
fell into his range of vision drawn down, as was he, by that great
master, gravity. “Hello old friend” said Adam, starring at the
leaf, and, as he fell into his eternal slumber, he heard, close to
him, the laughter of a child, and saw a small hand stretch out and
grab the leaf, as if to say “you are safe now”.</span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="background: transparent; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>Chase Emery Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05897305711866059258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958049970571773204.post-56646106421096083752012-05-29T11:58:00.001+02:002012-05-29T11:58:37.145+02:00A True Story<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1CYfhoTyYDTW7Cd3X52u6eMQSbrVREw2JlSu3jv3lb2vWKJ9UJZ_KQcgADB23Dgqcfdr5SdVLpGPdxPSO6fBerip2hYnbQyZfDjApeAzfDRDMMVd4o5Im-gCYSRW870YaewnIZ-UwAAU/s1600/old+lady.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1CYfhoTyYDTW7Cd3X52u6eMQSbrVREw2JlSu3jv3lb2vWKJ9UJZ_KQcgADB23Dgqcfdr5SdVLpGPdxPSO6fBerip2hYnbQyZfDjApeAzfDRDMMVd4o5Im-gCYSRW870YaewnIZ-UwAAU/s640/old+lady.jpeg" width="440" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
<style type="text/css">
<!--
@page { margin: 0.79in }
P { margin-bottom: 0.08in }
-->
</style>
</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">A
True Story</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Rolling
as I was, in a tube of perpetual movement, arrogance and heat</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Half
standing half sitting, near the one who had nurtured me since birth,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Closer
to creation, closer to love, closer to my mother,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">the
only god I know, that created me, no miracle, if only of life, that
lays in question since that day.</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">A
sudden and uncaring halt, a tensing of muscles,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">A
cry from in front “Allez vous a la Rue Claire monsieur?!”</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
shriek of a crow, wearing it's funeral suit.</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Turning,
clearly did I see her,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Frail,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Alone,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sharp
and Alert,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In
control, in her mind, of her mind, of this moment.</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Her
howling answered, annoyed look after annoyed look followed her to the
front of the carriage,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">no
one saw my discreet helpings, a punching of tickets, a security pole
that she might not slip off,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
seat, my mother gave her.</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Who
are you, was my first question, but only my mind heard it, as it
heard my heart beating, as it, Perhaps, heard hers.</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Her
pink dress, reminiscent of childish dreams, the flowers woven in,
reminiscent,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Of
when she could,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">See
Them.</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Words
escaped her, words of the past, that, in my close proximity to her,
stabilizing, sheltering,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">heard
with all its force, all its truth.</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">As
such we talked, the bus passing all the landscapes that were so
familiar, so reassuring,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">as
to be subdued by jealous society.</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">As
she pointed and smiled, “Finally a student!”, I gazed at her
whiskers, her white unwashed hair,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">her
dry lips, her countenance forming the purest and most natural waves
of all,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Of
age.</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Then,
I gazed into her eyes, where I saw who she was,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">She
had loved, she had feared, and as she told me stories of war, I said,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">What
a story you tell me” and uncontrolled, replied “No no, a true
story”,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">At
this, her life was full ,and had been but a fraction told, happy as
she was,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Pleased
as was I.</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Looks
Had Gone From The Misery Of Life, To Seeings Its Wonder.</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">We
are here said I, your stop,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And
as I held her hand, I saw a small girl, as if in a dream,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Skipping
wearing a pink dress with flowers,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And
heard her heart yearn to be.</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">As
we walked down the clear road of time, she refused to stop,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And
as I was to leave, she pulled me down, close to her and said,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Half
of me is dead, I was somewhere before, but now, I was supposed to
die”</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And
she left, with the promise of a picture of Kennedy in Berlin, and of
life.</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>Chase Emery Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05897305711866059258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958049970571773204.post-54076270768836265392012-05-19T20:45:00.000+02:002012-05-28T20:33:13.738+02:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCz9NTZalVN-AppMKdXFtC5KmutzOcuB52Th2U5TLYEH-uUvaeZlpCJ7v_IRS261E-SoHNcgeyAatCiawuafjhla2C93g2JuY6crZlHjfr3HLtKqGKu8o1PqxfbB5TPvQEi13bLYS8bcM/s1600/chasepoem2sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCz9NTZalVN-AppMKdXFtC5KmutzOcuB52Th2U5TLYEH-uUvaeZlpCJ7v_IRS261E-SoHNcgeyAatCiawuafjhla2C93g2JuY6crZlHjfr3HLtKqGKu8o1PqxfbB5TPvQEi13bLYS8bcM/s1600/chasepoem2sm.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<style type="text/css">
<!--
@page { margin: 0.79in }
P { margin-bottom: 0.08in }
EM.ctl { font-style: normal }
-->
</style>
</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif; font-size: large;">Decaying
around the television</span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It
is there, at the side, yet in the center,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Present
in our life only by choice, destroying our life only by choice,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Stains
outline it, vomit, a drunken frenzy.</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Next
to the window, a thin grey pram,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Fabric
interwoven with cigarette ashes,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Milk
and baby food, pure white, purely dark,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Spilled
in the attempt to feed a restless child,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Miserable,
flailing, a broken mirror laid in a corner,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Reflection
of his life, without a voice, feeble.</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">After
working skillful trades,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">A
sudden rage throwing a beer bottle, at contact the glass is
shattered, the screen is fractured,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">A
shout, “the telly!!!”</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In
a desperate rush, now Feeble is pushed aside, a flimsy second-hand
wooden high chair,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Falling
in slow motion,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Strapped
down, a prisoner, fragile face against solid ground, a broken tooth,
untended, passive.</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
buckle, cheap Chinese plastic,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Snaps,
Sharp and toothy, feeble runs, crawling and clawing away.</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
sun, a translucent yellowish red, </span></span>
</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Shining
eerily on the chaos,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
wallpaper pealing,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
plaster yellowing, browning,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
heat scorching, the walls sweating,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Leaking
an assortment of excrement and urine,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Unseen,
unattended,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Decaying.</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Scurrying
away, Feeble, on the floor,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Pushes
an innocent palm on a cold rusting nail protruding from the floor
board,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Yelling
now,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Unnoticed
always,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i class="western"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Perseverant</span></span></span></i><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">,
onward, in the hall, the heavily holed carpet, stained, vomit,
alcohol, ashes,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">A
drop or two of blood, memory of an idealistic love,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Out
the dog flap, decaying yellow plastic, wet and muddy,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">OUT
NOW!</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i class="western"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Perseverant</span></span></span></i><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
strides, four legged, through the untended garden, dry, dead,
un-green,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Juddering
like a small impatient train on rugged tracks.</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
sun revealing, formidable, glaring at decaying house after decaying
house,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">At
the edge of the driveway now, near the road.</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
whoosh of a car,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
blurring of it's thick lights,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">A
strike of red!</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">A
splatter of blood!</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It
had hit a pigeon.</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
sun was still in the sky, close to the ground,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">By
the time it had gone down, Brave would be free,</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And
when it rose, maybe, just maybe, he would survive.</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>Chase Emery Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05897305711866059258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958049970571773204.post-83425683296186154332012-05-17T20:20:00.004+02:002012-05-17T20:20:51.910+02:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHNqbUKoidFmYgqjMtCgSSzc9yj-1K7Ac1HUCdneyaD5kgHm8eVijq3Hi7RQ5fbBIvLJ7bxxt7F7laRsARx1VcaTPimkifKxfAr_Doctx7pd-WY7Dvx2fHf_9yE8PdeAiC_4_KWf8zA2Y/s1600/poem+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="434" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHNqbUKoidFmYgqjMtCgSSzc9yj-1K7Ac1HUCdneyaD5kgHm8eVijq3Hi7RQ5fbBIvLJ7bxxt7F7laRsARx1VcaTPimkifKxfAr_Doctx7pd-WY7Dvx2fHf_9yE8PdeAiC_4_KWf8zA2Y/s640/poem+1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<style type="text/css">
<!--
@page { margin: 0.79in }
P { margin-bottom: 0.08in }
-->
</style><span style="font-family: Apple Chancery,MS Mincho,cursive;"><span style="font-size: 32pt;">Dark
Cave, Black as Smoke</span></span><br /></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial Rounded MT Bold,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
beast entered, growling, rumbling,<br />The caves dark interior,
black<br />As a dead crow's feather.<br />It will be the demise of us
all.<br /><br />In desperate search for its toxic brew,<br />It demands its
puppeteers approval.<br />One beast, another beast, and another,<br />Will
the limitless numbers never stop?<br /><br />Yes, they will, to the cost
of their unreliable source.<br />A clowns nose blackened to the
core,<br />Reddened to the blood that destroys<br />And renders
oblivious.</span></span></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial Rounded MT Bold,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> C.E.Davis<br /><br /></span></span><br />
</div>Chase Emery Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05897305711866059258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958049970571773204.post-23785700327724224202011-09-27T22:08:00.000+02:002011-09-27T22:08:26.175+02:00My French School Bag Is Alive<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/iKElOVTwZOQ?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">This afternoon I was inspired, carrying around my heavy school bag. In French school we carry our books all day long because there are no lockers.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I have recently become very interested.</div><div style="text-align: center;"> in stop motion film making. This was a lot of fun I made it in one afternoon.</div><div style="text-align: center;">ENJOY</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Chase Emery Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05897305711866059258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958049970571773204.post-23134871938164396412011-04-07T00:13:00.000+02:002011-04-07T00:13:55.359+02:00Filming Leonardo DiCaprio in Paris with Gawkers<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinI6mFCCZBC6zSuSOFJiAWiUCDrkL1aBjiND62qOwB4KKy2CQGFV1ExLlLi5YjBHOpCMYOp-g2hNOfpQZix4TaFuXYiG02gQanztlFPJqr21z5VR6hZ066qq3WTQ4vBC10aO2BJdIIBeE/s1600/Leo1wm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="295" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinI6mFCCZBC6zSuSOFJiAWiUCDrkL1aBjiND62qOwB4KKy2CQGFV1ExLlLi5YjBHOpCMYOp-g2hNOfpQZix4TaFuXYiG02gQanztlFPJqr21z5VR6hZ066qq3WTQ4vBC10aO2BJdIIBeE/s400/Leo1wm.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"> I was out shopping with my mom today when</div><div style="text-align: center;"> I noticed a group of paparazzi with big lenses and a film crew set up with lights and giant reflectors. I asked my mom if we could go look. I have worked on location in a film, and I felt for the actors who were working in font of the crew and all of us the Paparazzi and the Gawkers which includes my mom and I!<br />
I do not know which project Mr. DiCaprio is working on here in Paris, but he was moving fast.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Chase Emery Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05897305711866059258noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958049970571773204.post-80349471996132962992010-12-21T16:19:00.012+01:002010-12-21T17:01:25.332+01:00A Very White ParisIt rarely snows in Paris, but, when it does, everyone is excited, kids and adults alike. It has not snowed like it has in these last few days, for ages.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK69a05vuywMNCaNGTpWR69h_jXQW8M9RstACtdP4h42pc6i6v_xTVsXHV0mCf9pICW0sTsy8XmrcDJkxjx1grpJB1CZhiZBEbdNkkKPJDhcfehqpfZQpgPYHwwk1J0aElqSyVPzGUI1M/s1600/Photo-0046.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK69a05vuywMNCaNGTpWR69h_jXQW8M9RstACtdP4h42pc6i6v_xTVsXHV0mCf9pICW0sTsy8XmrcDJkxjx1grpJB1CZhiZBEbdNkkKPJDhcfehqpfZQpgPYHwwk1J0aElqSyVPzGUI1M/s400/Photo-0046.jpg" width="400" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK69a05vuywMNCaNGTpWR69h_jXQW8M9RstACtdP4h42pc6i6v_xTVsXHV0mCf9pICW0sTsy8XmrcDJkxjx1grpJB1CZhiZBEbdNkkKPJDhcfehqpfZQpgPYHwwk1J0aElqSyVPzGUI1M/s1600/Photo-0046.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><br />
The Champs de Mars is particularly splendid, (the park in front of "La Tour Eiffel"), it is right next to my house so I am lucky.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0kEV5FsP6SpUDQzddjltDy3d9Gv2osVBmxRxE2PUj0Ek5NQ1QftVWGajYw-q9Z5Qi2coulkzffEAVvQ8Q9XyJDQP2CYz2TwZjnePJnFQT4nhgsrnSqUNTk3P-B2uRkPD_QjEhdzRcjQQ/s1600/Photo-0043.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0kEV5FsP6SpUDQzddjltDy3d9Gv2osVBmxRxE2PUj0Ek5NQ1QftVWGajYw-q9Z5Qi2coulkzffEAVvQ8Q9XyJDQP2CYz2TwZjnePJnFQT4nhgsrnSqUNTk3P-B2uRkPD_QjEhdzRcjQQ/s400/Photo-0043.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<br />
It is as if the whole park has covered itself up with a white blanket, waiting for spring to arrive. There is something very pure in the whiteness of the snow.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnaAr6-JaaBCq26quMww3oQjTZuOookbDAzA7dNgl7WNz3pxwnJLu9GOD4PPYfjqGyHjRPzqLPIc2oT5WOijJhtbBmcLZYXUHK1koFSWeC_-twkkrzCCQd_2tmN-6sKfQjKjOQkKjzIPY/s1600/Photo-0042.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnaAr6-JaaBCq26quMww3oQjTZuOookbDAzA7dNgl7WNz3pxwnJLu9GOD4PPYfjqGyHjRPzqLPIc2oT5WOijJhtbBmcLZYXUHK1koFSWeC_-twkkrzCCQd_2tmN-6sKfQjKjOQkKjzIPY/s400/Photo-0042.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">I feel like the snow is calling me.</div><br />
"As a dove's feather, it shines, gleaming, sparkling,<br />
as the stars in the night sky,<span id="goog_1377822984"></span><span id="goog_1377822985"></span> in the sun's magnificent rays"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg6X7VLbrBYgiLnMdS02kMyb0vMKZw_JNRl6hUGdjqDPxiK0I0D29sIWiZ0B2BjjguJE7_AgNEHkWGH6GObvWlmHMGmjNA1L1lR7ALDMys5U0u7wTczruigWPQry4847BRDmp9hHdyEVE/s1600/Photo-0027.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg6X7VLbrBYgiLnMdS02kMyb0vMKZw_JNRl6hUGdjqDPxiK0I0D29sIWiZ0B2BjjguJE7_AgNEHkWGH6GObvWlmHMGmjNA1L1lR7ALDMys5U0u7wTczruigWPQry4847BRDmp9hHdyEVE/s400/Photo-0027.jpg" width="400" /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Copyright all rights reserved, 2010/2011 Chase Davis</span></div>Chase Emery Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05897305711866059258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958049970571773204.post-13871691781179702602010-04-16T11:44:00.001+02:002010-04-16T11:45:04.680+02:00Shakespeare In Paris<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnFci_AaKwsyBD13au2qtIrb07emhpgVLyoV5f2KVNOce72nbNX0tLz23ZMfGI3jv4eyXRW0pbfM8HPWzgBm2UQ72LVg3G6yY1uAE4LN2d66ifM7EBxKGE1YwiuiueiASO9Hn47SHJgWE/s1600/photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnFci_AaKwsyBD13au2qtIrb07emhpgVLyoV5f2KVNOce72nbNX0tLz23ZMfGI3jv4eyXRW0pbfM8HPWzgBm2UQ72LVg3G6yY1uAE4LN2d66ifM7EBxKGE1YwiuiueiASO9Hn47SHJgWE/s400/photo.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Can you believe this? This is the theater I went to last night. I went to see " As You Like It" By William Shakespeare in ENGLISH! in the middle of Paris.</div><div style="text-align: center;">It was fantastic The acting and the stage coordination were amazing. The lighting and the use of shadow really interested me. I am studying Shakespeare For My IGCSE. This production was a good experience for me to see, and I understood it. They did have subtitles for the non- English speakers, and I even helped translate for some of the French people sitting near me, it was fun.</div>Chase Emery Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05897305711866059258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958049970571773204.post-91381443551506728612010-03-15T20:52:00.003+01:002012-04-22T11:52:26.071+02:00My Big Little Movie The Sequel<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpHUmjBo1MSmnXB4gh_2C86JXqPSxrTrvECcWcYDkqO0A9_I_A9Z0eVpnKU68s94seLWZcmU9lKX3GdkY01QfJqA1WwZz3JA4WtUp16SlnKcuSFUsF7ejZcjPJdbJw9DetFMwrUdYQ3iU/s1600-h/Chase+blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpHUmjBo1MSmnXB4gh_2C86JXqPSxrTrvECcWcYDkqO0A9_I_A9Z0eVpnKU68s94seLWZcmU9lKX3GdkY01QfJqA1WwZz3JA4WtUp16SlnKcuSFUsF7ejZcjPJdbJw9DetFMwrUdYQ3iU/s320/Chase+blog.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Yesterday We had to go back to Normandy to re-shoot some scenes, it's months later, and</div><div style="text-align: center;">I am taller than i was last time we shot these scenes. The film got ruined.<br />
We Had another great time. It was good to see the crew again.<br />
<br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I saw some of the rushes. The movie looks great!!!!<br />
<br />
Take a look <span style="background-color: #ffffd3; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; text-align: left;">See the Film </span><a href="http://vimeo.com/33127666" id="yui_3_4_0_3_1335087986604_1090" rel="nofollow" style="background-color: #ffffd3; color: #0063dc; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;">vimeo.com/33127666</a></div><div style="text-align: center;">My director, Oliver McGarvey, is really talented.</div><div style="text-align: center;">A bientot</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Chase</div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Chase Emery Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05897305711866059258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958049970571773204.post-12702210025141617712009-12-31T12:19:00.000+01:002009-12-31T12:19:41.230+01:00My Big Little Movie Experience Starring MeWow! I have just had the best and most exhausting experience ever. I just finished my third movie here in Paris. You might not think so, but this is a very demanding job both mentally and physically. Even for me who swims daily in my school's special sports program. Talking about schools, I am sure you are wondering how I managed to make a movie, with everything I have to do; school, swimming, homework... <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLkigfGlx-2Qncl3r_2Rl6UyNtdxP54ls7RF2OT0x4CO3w7gpie4C6YDMor4MTeUbXvmXc8pXauEx7Xmovgt_TuvEvwS65OulGEOKkJV9guLrgRJ8vC86ad0E42itW9O6DHejGFQQRLNk/s1600-h/chase-film-day-5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLkigfGlx-2Qncl3r_2Rl6UyNtdxP54ls7RF2OT0x4CO3w7gpie4C6YDMor4MTeUbXvmXc8pXauEx7Xmovgt_TuvEvwS65OulGEOKkJV9guLrgRJ8vC86ad0E42itW9O6DHejGFQQRLNk/s640/chase-film-day-5.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">To coordinate this intricate multi-location shooting schedule with my school schedule was very complicated.<br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Sometimes, one of the members of the crew would pick me up from my house, take me to the location where we were filming in the morning, I would attend school for a half day, and then I would be picked up again from school and escorted back to the location, where we worked late into the night. Well it was not easy, that's for damn sure, and my grades suffered. Even though the director tried extremely hard to make sure I did not miss too many hours of class.<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiMgtc24Q_Bx2O6-phfnDpfh1eD41a8XgbmzSHr-fErbwZKoJEetGJ7BW6HeAK-aXmSHiQMlUg-KF5y3uemaNP213Ev99yHv4gwODNruGNi7CILp5S18SxPOIGNJISkcvzv_Gk6ONY2vg/s1600-h/mechanic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiMgtc24Q_Bx2O6-phfnDpfh1eD41a8XgbmzSHr-fErbwZKoJEetGJ7BW6HeAK-aXmSHiQMlUg-KF5y3uemaNP213Ev99yHv4gwODNruGNi7CILp5S18SxPOIGNJISkcvzv_Gk6ONY2vg/s640/mechanic.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Working and preforming in front of a crew of twenty two people<br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">might appear stressful but it isn't, you get used to it.<br />
</div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVYw0SvJtGUEnpgpb3rLf3r5OuA_S1-BluTpfBmEcJaPtg8b_aicTebs1QbVZKNhpkUbyMJAQn7667kVJpb5zy-G53rV7-4Zj8bnGyjQszACaWUd_aI_35mMzMvjJoZFnxEEg0ToikBFs/s1600-h/chase-film-night-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVYw0SvJtGUEnpgpb3rLf3r5OuA_S1-BluTpfBmEcJaPtg8b_aicTebs1QbVZKNhpkUbyMJAQn7667kVJpb5zy-G53rV7-4Zj8bnGyjQszACaWUd_aI_35mMzMvjJoZFnxEEg0ToikBFs/s640/chase-film-night-1.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Shown here are the dolly tracts, and the camera mount for a slow zoom.<br />
</div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">It's thrilling to go on a location in a place that's not home, and sleep somewhere else other then your familiar bed, well, that's what I did when I went to Normandy with the crew. Of course I was a bit homesick.<br />
</div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ64p1Dl1w_TQxv9r5BP_TkNnqqWKUXvxHOdIoqnXA-yTEA6JYWKwlioFJUmw4e9_HBPSaAT63yy9M8xygAL5s6s6fwCgALEVGhOP6h_iCPzKUThG5eE4-d6YQK4MLVJ3Cruxyaa5g1RY/s1600-h/chase-film-day-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ64p1Dl1w_TQxv9r5BP_TkNnqqWKUXvxHOdIoqnXA-yTEA6JYWKwlioFJUmw4e9_HBPSaAT63yy9M8xygAL5s6s6fwCgALEVGhOP6h_iCPzKUThG5eE4-d6YQK4MLVJ3Cruxyaa5g1RY/s640/chase-film-day-3.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Film making is a collaborative process. Every single person's job must be executed well, and in a coordinated fashion otherwise there is no movie. For example, the people that lay down the dolly, which is the thing that looks like train tracks that the camera man uses to roll the camera on, could do this faster then their own shadows. If there was a problem with the lights the technician, who we called the light god, would come and fix any lamp before we could blink an eye. This, crew, was, amazing! All the things they had to think about and coordinate, wow! All I had to do was rehearse, remember my lines, and act. It was very rewarding to be part of the bigger picture, each of us doing our part. <br />
<br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSjoIhDC5kujwAjl7PqDio6NBIFlf2dKYuBmppIb6mgpctMyIi2wIVxuca0LyZ6975NYAxW7R8gFFfm-alnxzQzfeYL6uBkZQpAJqYr8zEmO3sryS3fNYrbWgir1nMXtffDHo9sQ1mw1c/s1600-h/chase-film-day-4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSjoIhDC5kujwAjl7PqDio6NBIFlf2dKYuBmppIb6mgpctMyIi2wIVxuca0LyZ6975NYAxW7R8gFFfm-alnxzQzfeYL6uBkZQpAJqYr8zEmO3sryS3fNYrbWgir1nMXtffDHo9sQ1mw1c/s640/chase-film-day-4.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"> I learned a lot. I got to observe first hand what it actually takes to make a movie. Now when I watch films I am seeing them with a deeper understanding and appreciation of what is really involved.<br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I was very lucky to work with such a good crew. This is an experience I shall never forget.<br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"> <br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRrlZFdhRCkBIkYZTozcgLWfpXUhokDH1s0ds0X92Qwwyxev6aONsqnSw6GV3rqlNY-cFgZOVj7lK9jBFtVazjdW-PmzOiTPfom1D_bnJT9Dwzpy_yYgbIl2lS5xbQb2hz1Wvi-W2YUdQ/s1600-h/chase-film-day-6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRrlZFdhRCkBIkYZTozcgLWfpXUhokDH1s0ds0X92Qwwyxev6aONsqnSw6GV3rqlNY-cFgZOVj7lK9jBFtVazjdW-PmzOiTPfom1D_bnJT9Dwzpy_yYgbIl2lS5xbQb2hz1Wvi-W2YUdQ/s640/chase-film-day-6.jpg" /></a><br />
</div>Chase Emery Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05897305711866059258noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958049970571773204.post-26905601912802177722009-10-05T10:58:00.000+02:002009-10-05T12:25:40.890+02:00Hidden Faces in Paris<div style="text-align: center;"><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtlQL4tqOpjVCDSIzw6oTRm17YsOeZh5jWGWCP92JZ44oomGAxP00hFaWQGTsdNy2P0ifVzXost06CY7yLz0vueDdEGX1rt1QiNSXVY-CUvR4GJvPqkETKXIuDUiQDsmAIu1-kOax65I8/s1600-h/sun+face+16.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtlQL4tqOpjVCDSIzw6oTRm17YsOeZh5jWGWCP92JZ44oomGAxP00hFaWQGTsdNy2P0ifVzXost06CY7yLz0vueDdEGX1rt1QiNSXVY-CUvR4GJvPqkETKXIuDUiQDsmAIu1-kOax65I8/s320/sun+face+16.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388702529412179026" border="0" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Are our faces who we really are, or who we are trying to be?<br /></div>The expressions on our faces us are sometimes different to what we say, but who is telling the truth the word or the face?<br /><br />There are faces everywhere in Paris.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQPpENrbDCmeqXezpjkcC3j5v9ro5gbwCLN2J_lwvJsHKYX4AdJfeyFQny0Su_hk7t10uR2bJEMcpq8S3Ob8vQtpp9ec1ErgH6D3H-7ez_hXd69TvuYyqHiqSDp3AUDnqDPXAcFXtBS8s/s1600-h/moon+face16.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQPpENrbDCmeqXezpjkcC3j5v9ro5gbwCLN2J_lwvJsHKYX4AdJfeyFQny0Su_hk7t10uR2bJEMcpq8S3Ob8vQtpp9ec1ErgH6D3H-7ez_hXd69TvuYyqHiqSDp3AUDnqDPXAcFXtBS8s/s320/moon+face16.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388698483749485874" border="0" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">They are hidden, hidden from unseeing, eyes that are<br />too befuddled to see what's in front of them.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSRGNwC0b7cB6n3dDni69RfqFT-k60Gpjc4aXxCiwaq_LeoyOZ7oTXqRpSwMDIJpcvCJ8s6BiBKAKUvH4wWiIUxvZPi09WezkU2jcpetX-yt9Lzotx3vg7BbxX8WidqE7893vVE_NjShk/s1600-h/model+face16.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSRGNwC0b7cB6n3dDni69RfqFT-k60Gpjc4aXxCiwaq_LeoyOZ7oTXqRpSwMDIJpcvCJ8s6BiBKAKUvH4wWiIUxvZPi09WezkU2jcpetX-yt9Lzotx3vg7BbxX8WidqE7893vVE_NjShk/s320/model+face16.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388698082668102530" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Even if they are laughing in front of us trying to steer your attention towards them.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij84FITFJ98-hgAZ8BkHcD4EZNqVNelxgQi4CrFCqX6gEySCUqgiHZ9SoJSF1tLmwww-r-s3kDF6F1E0o32ZsBiAgNFAkoqJUmeH-rOfWNUElVnzYKv7_PwQ_bzW5jch5Pm6Y0qSdkx8Y/s1600-h/funny+face16.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij84FITFJ98-hgAZ8BkHcD4EZNqVNelxgQi4CrFCqX6gEySCUqgiHZ9SoJSF1tLmwww-r-s3kDF6F1E0o32ZsBiAgNFAkoqJUmeH-rOfWNUElVnzYKv7_PwQ_bzW5jch5Pm6Y0qSdkx8Y/s320/funny+face16.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388699023411515554" border="0" /></a><br />Still many of us don't see them, we only see a face, just a face.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxy1ehAjHE_UPBMm0epSrIMUWfsW0sVHSuKeM9suUZKD2g0EWygCiUrePQEUv3jmLCkZkJ4wrTzFZaMsFXsx1CyTzlphqCBoT5Wnl9eiN949pxjfU5ijoq4yHtODpzEQDa_DK2gw5T89Y/s1600-h/lets+celibrate.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxy1ehAjHE_UPBMm0epSrIMUWfsW0sVHSuKeM9suUZKD2g0EWygCiUrePQEUv3jmLCkZkJ4wrTzFZaMsFXsx1CyTzlphqCBoT5Wnl9eiN949pxjfU5ijoq4yHtODpzEQDa_DK2gw5T89Y/s320/lets+celibrate.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388775764682304194" border="0" /></a><br />Look again , this time let's take in what we see, let's see the beauty residing in the human face and representations of it.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbkfVG8wCxXqr8FcHqLvgi8zvbXnNGn9cs119ahLXjyQY8Q63LmoohhNo47YAzCl1uUO6MZt5EDRJGAlmaAKt3o15uCiLnYXTi1wyOrFQphm21Xs_jh5TM-5KAbHzQb0VR__Dv1ZxRhpk/s1600-h/stone+face16.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbkfVG8wCxXqr8FcHqLvgi8zvbXnNGn9cs119ahLXjyQY8Q63LmoohhNo47YAzCl1uUO6MZt5EDRJGAlmaAKt3o15uCiLnYXTi1wyOrFQphm21Xs_jh5TM-5KAbHzQb0VR__Dv1ZxRhpk/s320/stone+face16.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388706790616962626" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Some people feel they need to change their face with make up and other such things, not knowing how beautiful they really are.<br /><span style="text-decoration: underline;"></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge85TJjwvDVUIGxjR9M0nrO6iyd_waV159rUUplhKOtdOrGa2lcnW_W5fdQJz3irrfa4W7lqA0_d0ptnr1ZFq_jOVZwp4u7L4Rg1fkARjP7ffFfgXeadKNttaCyr2XA0LbLdaUKnouAl8/s1600-h/carnival+face+16.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge85TJjwvDVUIGxjR9M0nrO6iyd_waV159rUUplhKOtdOrGa2lcnW_W5fdQJz3irrfa4W7lqA0_d0ptnr1ZFq_jOVZwp4u7L4Rg1fkARjP7ffFfgXeadKNttaCyr2XA0LbLdaUKnouAl8/s320/carnival+face+16.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388701078381215778" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">You should see the ooh la la look they give me when I tell them that!<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLqCGm1DdJmEnWPF8l4UUWmfXm93NqCaTxvlYGznKy1vs_uyGEKWW7Xy9XKkE4y572fY-EwQ_vCB0JYAZ5Rv5MfQbKc12owDuw8fEJDFSoOGJfoBaISUKrPRYOLKJ6NWHlpn_aY_gtQOc/s1600-h/hiddden+one16.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLqCGm1DdJmEnWPF8l4UUWmfXm93NqCaTxvlYGznKy1vs_uyGEKWW7Xy9XKkE4y572fY-EwQ_vCB0JYAZ5Rv5MfQbKc12owDuw8fEJDFSoOGJfoBaISUKrPRYOLKJ6NWHlpn_aY_gtQOc/s320/hiddden+one16.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388702992970945634" border="0" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Don't hide, look.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">(Ne vous cachez pas regarder.)<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtlQL4tqOpjVCDSIzw6oTRm17YsOeZh5jWGWCP92JZ44oomGAxP00hFaWQGTsdNy2P0ifVzXost06CY7yLz0vueDdEGX1rt1QiNSXVY-CUvR4GJvPqkETKXIuDUiQDsmAIu1-kOax65I8/s1600-h/sun+face+16.jpg"><br /></a></div>Chase Emery Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05897305711866059258noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958049970571773204.post-33218590451788567002009-09-06T16:52:00.012+02:002009-09-06T18:00:22.575+02:00French School<div style="text-align: center;">Back to school annee scolaire 2009/2010<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFWxyn9ww9Um4O7MAl7SAQYZyAgzxoiS4pZ917DZH749qzTCw5PrQw1UOPh9tx_5KrCZzVXwGFUIBL4A-wD693vuLcbkWQYTCKzRi1X4T88r39ohW8WmXXjLPAtF8LIBrcxg6DB2gJeRI/s1600-h/300px-Lyc%C3%A9e-Buffon-7.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFWxyn9ww9Um4O7MAl7SAQYZyAgzxoiS4pZ917DZH749qzTCw5PrQw1UOPh9tx_5KrCZzVXwGFUIBL4A-wD693vuLcbkWQYTCKzRi1X4T88r39ohW8WmXXjLPAtF8LIBrcxg6DB2gJeRI/s320/300px-Lyc%C3%A9e-Buffon-7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378373556397267362" border="0" /></a><br /></div>My school is actually a castle. I am in my second to last year of French middle school which is four years long rather then three like American Junior high school. This year is a decisive year the cumulative grade counts as one third of the Brevet des Colleges. This is our first professional diploma which we need to get into a Lycee ( high school).<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN9bBkwzuNnGVO0o8bEoHjvnp7wF11sVDrZwVJ6Q2XxUyVPoLEhOGnwNpBzUUUU3nHUmy_4zlmennpIHcCnX367NJDnBSD70_GEM4M7jra8LfKAkL56dKMKfmZ9VI_y2OIDyw48XWHY2M/s1600-h/buf+facde.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN9bBkwzuNnGVO0o8bEoHjvnp7wF11sVDrZwVJ6Q2XxUyVPoLEhOGnwNpBzUUUU3nHUmy_4zlmennpIHcCnX367NJDnBSD70_GEM4M7jra8LfKAkL56dKMKfmZ9VI_y2OIDyw48XWHY2M/s320/buf+facde.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378370891666436610" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The street view of our school. It is massive , it fills an entire city block.<br /><div style="text-align: left;">We count down until graduation staring with Sixieme.<br /><div><br /><table style="text-align: left; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" class="wikitable"><tbody><tr style="background: rgb(239, 239, 239) none repeat scroll 0% 0%; -moz-background-clip: border; -moz-background-origin: padding; -moz-background-inline-policy: continuous;" align="center"><th>Age</th> <th>Grade</th> <th>Abbreviation</th> </tr> <tr> <th>11 -> 12</th> <td>Sixième</td> <td>6<sup>e</sup></td> </tr> <tr> <th>12 -> 13</th> <td>Cinquième</td> <td>5<sup>e</sup></td> </tr> <tr> <th>13 -> 14</th> <td>Quatrième</td> <td>4<sup>e</sup></td> </tr> <tr> <th>14 -> 15</th> <td>Troisième</td> <td>3<sup>e</sup></td> </tr> <tr> <td colspan="3" align="center" bgcolor="#ccccff"><i><b>Lycée</b></i> (<b>High school</b>)</td> </tr> <tr style="background: rgb(239, 239, 239) none repeat scroll 0% 0%; -moz-background-clip: border; -moz-background-origin: padding; -moz-background-inline-policy: continuous;" align="center"> <th>Age</th> <th>Grade</th> <th>Abbreviation</th> </tr> <tr> <th>15 -> 16</th> <td>Seconde</td> <td>2<sup>de</sup></td> </tr> <tr> <th>16 -> 17</th> <td>Première</td> <td>1<sup>e</sup></td> </tr> <tr> <th>17 -> 18</th> <td>Terminale</td> <td>Term or Tle</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><br />This is how it goes If you are lucky enough to pass all the tests and follow the academic route.<br />Otherwise one goes to the vocational schools. All this is determined next year when we sit the Brevet exam. This is a big deal. There are no second chances in France.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">By the way my school has a beautiful courtyard inside the castle<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLHbX9jHQuGadu0p8aFshlYqBWmA8Qr27rXLdBHHuckK_tRIjpQYqAwML-ZSB_B6O0Jqh5vTQxqH3ilsrozcIqk_V1du4_dEFzQSlOC5C9pmPRk_F7Dgt9Qm4on7x0w6kZFL77RSqxKnE/s1600-h/lycee+buffon.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLHbX9jHQuGadu0p8aFshlYqBWmA8Qr27rXLdBHHuckK_tRIjpQYqAwML-ZSB_B6O0Jqh5vTQxqH3ilsrozcIqk_V1du4_dEFzQSlOC5C9pmPRk_F7Dgt9Qm4on7x0w6kZFL77RSqxKnE/s320/lycee+buffon.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378378390255466930" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">We call all this going back to school la rentree.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">I made another small film this past summer it is a pilot for an animated series. I did the English voice acting it was a lot of fun in the studio with headphones, and a screen! This film is going to an international animation festival in Denmark. They hope to pick up international distribution. <br /><br />Cheers,<br /><br />Chase<br /></div></div><br /></div></div></div>Chase Emery Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05897305711866059258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958049970571773204.post-76079747524168818262009-07-09T10:27:00.019+02:002009-10-09T22:07:54.955+02:00Summer Fun In Paris and Brittany<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSZ3SH6lK1A05jZg_l1e_fRP6xWc_gHEZuMaC8RMkqQTR2n1g6Ami_XbgY3Te4VFjKM49U7huZlN17rQ8O72hFoCLh6BrCW1CAo-KGXpMv5J1s1b8Hw5LT4T4eja06HxlxEyfMnOLyXZXI/s1600-h/lacroix.jpg"><br /></a></div>I had this <span style="font-style: italic;">Bande Dessinee</span> (comic Book art) class at the Musee Des Arts Decoratifs. On Tuesday class started at the same time and in the same place as what some believe to be Christian Lacroix's last couture show( My mom told me this). Fortunately a representative of the museum was there to let the kids in past the burly body guards and beautiful girls with clip boards. you know invitation only, so the photographers where out in full force because of fashion week.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSZ3SH6lK1A05jZg_l1e_fRP6xWc_gHEZuMaC8RMkqQTR2n1g6Ami_XbgY3Te4VFjKM49U7huZlN17rQ8O72hFoCLh6BrCW1CAo-KGXpMv5J1s1b8Hw5LT4T4eja06HxlxEyfMnOLyXZXI/s1600-h/lacroix.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 277px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSZ3SH6lK1A05jZg_l1e_fRP6xWc_gHEZuMaC8RMkqQTR2n1g6Ami_XbgY3Te4VFjKM49U7huZlN17rQ8O72hFoCLh6BrCW1CAo-KGXpMv5J1s1b8Hw5LT4T4eja06HxlxEyfMnOLyXZXI/s400/lacroix.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355843167490694738" border="0" /></a>Traffic jam at the door.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiISO2pE07vM_Jc1Ltr17xVnK6vYKIKDBg79VXjogaAAmSXOR1YGHe0l-eyXE6wuepsPcCVeaWI0sRaet_DiUmFjvCRze-nqIIXG1Ag3SCvioSdfz16yrrlStw1arAvA0d8VH1x_2JzCfVk/s1600-h/falcon+site.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiISO2pE07vM_Jc1Ltr17xVnK6vYKIKDBg79VXjogaAAmSXOR1YGHe0l-eyXE6wuepsPcCVeaWI0sRaet_DiUmFjvCRze-nqIIXG1Ag3SCvioSdfz16yrrlStw1arAvA0d8VH1x_2JzCfVk/s400/falcon+site.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355842571260009250" border="0" /></a></div>The garden behind the louvre<br /></div><br />After class we went to the gardens of the Louvre for a picnic before my evening acting class on the left bank. I was feeding the birds when suddenly out of the sky shot a small falcon to swoop up a bird for it's dinner. It was both beautiful and startling. I did not know there were falcons in Paris!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxLq3tOkBLcvgUUa0vOkoO0MOUtOIsVRmdZcs4lTHTh4s9rKn3nunvegxQtTnCUsnwVVluiAQF8_5I8cPR5p9bmST9JKHjtHrQRxxzwtb-ODMt-HD2BVsi8rtPsyykFGiS4jxBxM2G2-fn/s1600-h/merlin_2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 324px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxLq3tOkBLcvgUUa0vOkoO0MOUtOIsVRmdZcs4lTHTh4s9rKn3nunvegxQtTnCUsnwVVluiAQF8_5I8cPR5p9bmST9JKHjtHrQRxxzwtb-ODMt-HD2BVsi8rtPsyykFGiS4jxBxM2G2-fn/s400/merlin_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355840186134091922" border="0" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> image by Terry Sohl<br />The falcon we saw small so it is probably a merlin.<br /></div><br />My <span style="font-style: italic;">Bande Dessinee </span><span>class</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span><span>was great. I learned to develop a story, and how to layout the pages.<br />I learned how to do the black and white Manga style illustrations. My teacher Piero Macola was cool. The class was only three days, but I learned a lot.<br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjde_9c810ZEceocmUH3XRqF0Q-IoSZFWUwmjQUVWG7AC0R9l-KrhYIhjSlhJmaiV204fIE8FrfeThSsOlWiCKAvhfaliSJ_EczV4jU7tB8NjwrfJUoASKQogPx0Rk_OKlIhJSxerjf9uY/s1600-h/chase+manga.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjde_9c810ZEceocmUH3XRqF0Q-IoSZFWUwmjQUVWG7AC0R9l-KrhYIhjSlhJmaiV204fIE8FrfeThSsOlWiCKAvhfaliSJ_EczV4jU7tB8NjwrfJUoASKQogPx0Rk_OKlIhJSxerjf9uY/s320/chase+manga.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390694294956967762" border="0" /></a>My first layout.<br /></div><span><br />The 6 day acting work shop at <a href="http://www.bilingualacting.com/index.php?lp=ClassesDescriptionL&idClasses=67">BAW</a>, with Marylin Fried, was amazing</span><span>. It was such an intense learning experience </span>Marylin taught us Meisner techniques and so much more. How to be fully present in your part, how to breath, and how to speak. We did improvisations, and monologues. She coached us. She is the best!<br /><br />I am off to Brittany today to a town called Dinard with my Grandparents. I love the ocean and the surf.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><pre style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 9pt; color: black; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1P98zCHQIPxeZ2iv6j_MDITsxn-N9hS6fzskp9O2YmAv4H4aI_GLcQYE3iY9Ap3NgQCI6fWe9cqiRmEMWAenk_ic4NjAwjUducsCJfQriwmLAnM00-RIuEUQFvySRNoH5g5QzJ_nttWA/s1600-h/dinard.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1P98zCHQIPxeZ2iv6j_MDITsxn-N9hS6fzskp9O2YmAv4H4aI_GLcQYE3iY9Ap3NgQCI6fWe9cqiRmEMWAenk_ic4NjAwjUducsCJfQriwmLAnM00-RIuEUQFvySRNoH5g5QzJ_nttWA/s320/dinard.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356391667277038018" border="0" /></a><br /></pre></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"> Dinard has rocky cliffs, sandy coves and big old Victorian mansions.<br /></div><span><br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBksc2D-vqg7505h7QWIiBLNfSzUbYX_oAFBTZ2in0PWeHGqBUhyphenhyphendnIyFN92KJu-MP984zwDtBw3oVtOZIreWdcxdsKM9d9Whusp3Jm61kuoCZn1qvjENMjOiJDcUbqAeLSa293sjlXD0/s1600-h/chase+dinard.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBksc2D-vqg7505h7QWIiBLNfSzUbYX_oAFBTZ2in0PWeHGqBUhyphenhyphendnIyFN92KJu-MP984zwDtBw3oVtOZIreWdcxdsKM9d9Whusp3Jm61kuoCZn1qvjENMjOiJDcUbqAeLSa293sjlXD0/s320/chase+dinard.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356392659679240898" border="0" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><pre style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 9pt; color: black; white-space: pre-wrap;">This walk way goes all around the coast, cove to cove.<br /></pre></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic1unJ9sP1XYCDtS5uFValTd75ebg9crdRtMd-jL2ys_1VB0NBDEQrApAdoEz5jRTlX7miuYuSC98ubNABlGZF_VJFE3KXxsOPfNoHAsNXSbqcXr4XVeE3t3NlPcQF_iRNvolNCVimGBo/s1600-h/dinard+beach.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic1unJ9sP1XYCDtS5uFValTd75ebg9crdRtMd-jL2ys_1VB0NBDEQrApAdoEz5jRTlX7miuYuSC98ubNABlGZF_VJFE3KXxsOPfNoHAsNXSbqcXr4XVeE3t3NlPcQF_iRNvolNCVimGBo/s320/dinard+beach.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356393293206609490" border="0" /></a><br /><br />This is the main town beach with a view of the casino. I don't gamble, we play billiards.<br />I'll be back.<br /></div>Chase Emery Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05897305711866059258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958049970571773204.post-12203340435197284212009-07-04T15:08:00.009+02:002009-07-04T15:50:29.053+02:00Summer Vacation in France<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV4IDu2ZUwbeop8jjsXtSsYYCOP8_dGIAUobHZx3Exbo59j7BwBGkpVhj9I6_Ot1yjZgnzH0hjRRBP_c5hI0vsNMdMzT0feKvXkUNQ4S5aSXtSQvpZDJnDjbHXwKF7_SIgnNe1KnfwcNA/s1600-h/Chase+now.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 203px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV4IDu2ZUwbeop8jjsXtSsYYCOP8_dGIAUobHZx3Exbo59j7BwBGkpVhj9I6_Ot1yjZgnzH0hjRRBP_c5hI0vsNMdMzT0feKvXkUNQ4S5aSXtSQvpZDJnDjbHXwKF7_SIgnNe1KnfwcNA/s320/Chase+now.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354591618869444290" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />I Finally finished the school year July 2!<br />I am taking an intensive acting class at <a href="http://www.bilingualacting.com/index.php?lp=ClassesDescriptionL&idClasses=67">BAW</a> for the next 6 days. Today the class is 10:00am-7:00 pm whew!<br /><br />It is great, Yesterday was the fist day. I am really enjoying the summer already.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcz8t_UVpzHlvimrrM4l02lvo6nhkeA3iAZFOXndgZhzEbegyC8Wl9fsD7H-bcUXKxbQKahzScZgzalZ1oVQOmCQMXDYLGF3zZQCNdGklnxfxJ13zp7ixZY3-va6hDNopm4e3AHPwLYoo/s1600-h/hb+America-1.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 297px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcz8t_UVpzHlvimrrM4l02lvo6nhkeA3iAZFOXndgZhzEbegyC8Wl9fsD7H-bcUXKxbQKahzScZgzalZ1oVQOmCQMXDYLGF3zZQCNdGklnxfxJ13zp7ixZY3-va6hDNopm4e3AHPwLYoo/s320/hb+America-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354593500458087650" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Happy July 4th<br />Happy Birthday America!!!!<br /><br />Next week I am signed up to take a comic book drawing and design class<br />at the mueum of decorative arts<br />With Piero Macola<br />The French call it <span style="font-style: italic;">Bande Dessinee</span>.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO0YZ3NiOxeNsaMKuFCqOaMLaQZXB_WRVw7KyQoVEa0X2n9l2CKvnB57OgVPoGU7NJg-p3vRLRl9aZzkHfMZrq47UAD23sdt1NGdFuAmFZuAA3frFJwKhOQjmKKJuxbjRQD_AFx_WM7Cs/s1600-h/519Q673FQAL._SS500_.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO0YZ3NiOxeNsaMKuFCqOaMLaQZXB_WRVw7KyQoVEa0X2n9l2CKvnB57OgVPoGU7NJg-p3vRLRl9aZzkHfMZrq47UAD23sdt1NGdFuAmFZuAA3frFJwKhOQjmKKJuxbjRQD_AFx_WM7Cs/s320/519Q673FQAL._SS500_.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354595787623175458" border="0" /></a><br /><br />This is the cover of one of his books<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR5e_ha3MWrU-kdjW3OGSV_5ZIfk-J5ZSBFqiUIn9gqu87jGHZ-eOwTQ2UpWbSMJH59nAaPKv-sigRZUjnYWSCH9ZaAgpUDBEpKbPh09w5RF_Wb6CcV1Ke3bcQX9_lKd_Le5Y07U7CmBY/s1600-h/gus.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 290px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR5e_ha3MWrU-kdjW3OGSV_5ZIfk-J5ZSBFqiUIn9gqu87jGHZ-eOwTQ2UpWbSMJH59nAaPKv-sigRZUjnYWSCH9ZaAgpUDBEpKbPh09w5RF_Wb6CcV1Ke3bcQX9_lKd_Le5Y07U7CmBY/s320/gus.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354600310366095602" border="0" /></a><br /><br />here is the character I am developing, it is based on my late cat GUS<br />who died a few weeks ago. He liked to sit on the radiator, so we called it the "catiator"<br /><br />I like drawing sequential art<br />I will tell you all about the class<br />Next time<br /><br /><br /></div>Chase Emery Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05897305711866059258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958049970571773204.post-81322001977147367222009-05-01T09:29:00.030+02:002009-05-13T21:27:00.357+02:00Smokers abound in Paris<span style="font-family: times new roman;font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" >When I went out today, I was astonished by how many people were smoking (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">fumer</span>). </span><span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" >You can not walk down the street without literally being choked. Since they banned smoking in restaurants, cafes, hotels, and hospitals in Paris this has driven the smokers out on to the side walks. I decided to investigate why all these people (gens) were smoking so much.</span><span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" > What were the facts?</span><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD_Q2tZ0wcCevXrpoi0Qn4Zvl-jpmidN2_TERmUgoo9aiNgDP6fXuxdHq5T81ZgTXj63OlKK111qf0CBzg4zd1HtUukJgKakIvLWg12jVME18jEZHir96TLQztWIlIY1wI_W6O4Zpzckw/s1600-h/smoke-1.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD_Q2tZ0wcCevXrpoi0Qn4Zvl-jpmidN2_TERmUgoo9aiNgDP6fXuxdHq5T81ZgTXj63OlKK111qf0CBzg4zd1HtUukJgKakIvLWg12jVME18jEZHir96TLQztWIlIY1wI_W6O4Zpzckw/s320/smoke-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331157034623077538" border="0" /></a></span><br /></span><span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:85%;" ><br /><span style="font-size:100%;">15,000,000 people smoke in France [1] and on January 1</span></span><span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-size:100%;">st, 2008, cigarettes were banned in enclosed areas : <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">cafés</span>, restaurants, and in hospitals. The government is spending lots of money on advertisements asking people to stop smoking. Still the French continue to smoke. </span><br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgovcVy_AMp9sHcB6dBFNcMuZVahNT_Fm5HkAkH5kLaSKv077EcWg5KfaNz-Y4W992QLTK8wNpfLay-0Yd7M_24uCkwoOY0USdmBh9e6yTRiFtO-wryCHAQW5ajNrtYJpIaVMrs1UoFsyo/s1600-h/smoke-2.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgovcVy_AMp9sHcB6dBFNcMuZVahNT_Fm5HkAkH5kLaSKv077EcWg5KfaNz-Y4W992QLTK8wNpfLay-0Yd7M_24uCkwoOY0USdmBh9e6yTRiFtO-wryCHAQW5ajNrtYJpIaVMrs1UoFsyo/s320/smoke-2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331157036326921362" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />The smokers say cigarettes represent </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" ><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">libérte</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;">, or freedom, but health ministers claim that both active and passive smoking costs many lives and costs French tax payers millions in additional funding to its universal health care system</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;">, which is already over-burdened with debt</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:85%;">.</span><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj20UNxJOJX1VdSOXNvwvY8s3Hn3tRKSFnMxRb-tK9_joVYXumpjhzvEHXu75HgR3fqM-QLmyoXfsJNoRUwe7TnThPI5vgaAecKObQscsbT5yDSc0URbgiF0c5kRFRYC-6yRl_C2MXyqWI/s1600-h/smoke-3.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj20UNxJOJX1VdSOXNvwvY8s3Hn3tRKSFnMxRb-tK9_joVYXumpjhzvEHXu75HgR3fqM-QLmyoXfsJNoRUwe7TnThPI5vgaAecKObQscsbT5yDSc0URbgiF0c5kRFRYC-6yRl_C2MXyqWI/s320/smoke-3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331157036099245794" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">In France, 60, 000 people die every year due to smoking. In a debate on France 24 (a TV news network), 3 January 2008, Lauren A. Colby [2], an American lawyer (paid by the tobacco lobby) argued that there is no evidence whatsoever that smoking causes lung cancer or death. He also says that the countries where people smoke the most are where there are the longest life spans.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQfvlnPegJk7_Z-1prJTQG2tOqImqRP3pRtoBgiwASysWz8xLQ2C6XSIlW8GRWpiguKnLTaoH45HZ80QobZOmH4BZaO-74gRayvAWA0tUCAToPUzhGdo_fJ48yOqxnjP_ke74X5rzbE5E/s1600-h/smoke-4.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQfvlnPegJk7_Z-1prJTQG2tOqImqRP3pRtoBgiwASysWz8xLQ2C6XSIlW8GRWpiguKnLTaoH45HZ80QobZOmH4BZaO-74gRayvAWA0tUCAToPUzhGdo_fJ48yOqxnjP_ke74X5rzbE5E/s320/smoke-4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331157043800094178" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Dr </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" style="font-size:85%;">Hirayama</span><span style="font-size:85%;"> [3], of the National Cancer Center Research Institute in Tokyo, </span></span><span style="font-size:85%;">proved in 1981 that wives of smokers in Japan had about 2o to 25 % increased rates of lung cancer. It was through these studies that Dr <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Hirayama</span> demonstrated the first real proof of the effects of 2</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" style="font-size:85%;">nd</span><span style="font-size:85%;"> hand smoking.<br /><br />I support banning smoking and trying to get people to reduce the quantity of tobacco they consume. I think it is time now to rely on children - who are, if we are not careful the smokers of the future. This is what I would do to prevent kids from smoking:<br /><br />When I was in CM1, which is 4</span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" style="font-size:85%;">th</span><span style="font-size:85%;"> grade in America, I went to a road safety lesson with my entire class . They showed us pictures and videos of car accidents and people dying because of them; after that, my class and I thought twice before crossing a road without looking carefully. My point is that it has stuck with me all of these years. However, I went to a stop smoking conference with my class 2 months ago and I have already forgotten most of the presentation. This goes to show that it was not shocking enough for me or my class. So, I would start educating children by showing them the shocking reality, using videos of surgery on patients with lung cancer, with commentaries explaining the medical situation and even interviewing a smoker with acute lung cancer. I would start this training in 6</span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" style="font-size:85%;">th</span><span style="font-size:85%;"> grade, when children start getting the idea from older kids.<br /><br />Many parents smoke, and thus influence their kids. After a while children whose parents smoke start getting ideas like, "My parents smoke, smoking is cool," or "smoking is being grown up". I disagree with both of these ideas . I think smoking is damaging and dangerous both to the smokers and anyone near them.<br /></span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />References:<br />1. Debate on France 24, 3 of January 2008<br />2. Lauren A. Colby on the same France 24 debate<br />3. Dr. Hirayama New York Times</span><br /><br /><br /><br /></span>Chase Emery Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05897305711866059258noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958049970571773204.post-90763493804098206582009-04-26T19:14:00.011+02:002009-04-26T21:19:56.969+02:00A Cry for Freedom in ParisThis afternoon I heard from my apartment window a loud noise.<br />What was it ?I had to investigate!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihKqKpXnJBv2EKLdQEqGiIF5AZtaUlFtX_eK1hDiKeuzZD6NoJJNHDiMNkQPJUJ3en7vgTWrY1D1brQEoaIzrtRygtvglOhIsl9uTxPLvrx-5PuDVXnlYGwyZ-jxotJPWHDnzc3RQ4MJw/s1600-h/tamil-1.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihKqKpXnJBv2EKLdQEqGiIF5AZtaUlFtX_eK1hDiKeuzZD6NoJJNHDiMNkQPJUJ3en7vgTWrY1D1brQEoaIzrtRygtvglOhIsl9uTxPLvrx-5PuDVXnlYGwyZ-jxotJPWHDnzc3RQ4MJw/s320/tamil-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329080437923878466" border="0" /></a><br />It was in fact the Tamils from Sri Lanka protesting about the murders in their country. They are crying for help and freedom.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgulqWJdMQ3heV8IdL3aUgHonQOGiJ_VqavEREIySM9dIwv2cr3WhGklOJjlnNcT-6nxF7sAe73IA8DfVe8j0rnpGtCjWGHD1JBJWGQsbwGTorYTLj8zwcUCPl6ZEEv2i4cZlJhpueq7O8/s1600-h/tamil-2.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgulqWJdMQ3heV8IdL3aUgHonQOGiJ_VqavEREIySM9dIwv2cr3WhGklOJjlnNcT-6nxF7sAe73IA8DfVe8j0rnpGtCjWGHD1JBJWGQsbwGTorYTLj8zwcUCPl6ZEEv2i4cZlJhpueq7O8/s320/tamil-2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329051549596667986" border="0" /></a><br />An estimated 70,000 Tamils live in France. Yesterday, 20,000 of them turned out to demonstate in Paris in an attempt to bring the worlds attention to there plight.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw3sbUNoaqQ2wXDG8kjnKqqHfkfEq3CWjYZpQEtPFta6f0Q4_Nx4kmNKnoUbdllW_P8HteTPaB45OuJ9-Om-PkDeVQofF_QBuvHOBApgE7NWh-CIVGHAWllhHfvGLKQLm-YndNkU3J2FM/s1600-h/tamil-3.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw3sbUNoaqQ2wXDG8kjnKqqHfkfEq3CWjYZpQEtPFta6f0Q4_Nx4kmNKnoUbdllW_P8HteTPaB45OuJ9-Om-PkDeVQofF_QBuvHOBApgE7NWh-CIVGHAWllhHfvGLKQLm-YndNkU3J2FM/s320/tamil-3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329051552517340626" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Personaly, I think they are absolutely right demonstrating, and if I could, I would seriously advise President Sarkozy to help them .<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM2LAMqBcFcH37e63VnclPm6geqFRyEysieNNUnRC6BnKZTIq1oFI4XmaCSol2FJ7ziWkndEo9jvpRE4fFFP0BRr5a4N1dowEWlFrWMZ9cBPQIdzL6pcdYgXlMnsRpECV_GFcNTYPB0yU/s1600-h/tamil-4.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM2LAMqBcFcH37e63VnclPm6geqFRyEysieNNUnRC6BnKZTIq1oFI4XmaCSol2FJ7ziWkndEo9jvpRE4fFFP0BRr5a4N1dowEWlFrWMZ9cBPQIdzL6pcdYgXlMnsRpECV_GFcNTYPB0yU/s320/tamil-4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329051591344957266" border="0" /></a><br />This lady said that they were simply there to ask for help to<br /><div style="text-align: justify;">obtain freedom.<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgktAIMP34QxHbPgENKvb_xYZ7Gna5VkMiq0dYjBTThktRTYZqpQmzeWGczwuRhKhCnFeDB9EqGa6an02EVINylvCvl5_YhI5lWDsPSbFRbpAux9hcFuU2oF8Q9a5ddVhuHO6C_XUINZeI/s1600-h/tamil-5.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgktAIMP34QxHbPgENKvb_xYZ7Gna5VkMiq0dYjBTThktRTYZqpQmzeWGczwuRhKhCnFeDB9EqGa6an02EVINylvCvl5_YhI5lWDsPSbFRbpAux9hcFuU2oF8Q9a5ddVhuHO6C_XUINZeI/s320/tamil-5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329051595851414722" border="0" /></a>Chase Emery Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05897305711866059258noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958049970571773204.post-87295788604935470862009-04-24T11:41:00.003+02:002009-04-26T21:50:56.486+02:00April in Paris<div style="text-align: center;">A spring promenade in the Champs de Mars.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWNhdOjkWT2ZTBfI9seVfkyP4WgdZcbwKMZLyRAP1gB6thnyMpQwjCtfMA1S_SPw7H7qR9Augfpgr9l21my91JDhSLnISqP4NSmHBYnKh_WODUjSmNuPZdCwjCvKhQGD6tLOJ7qih_8hw/s1600-h/april-1.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWNhdOjkWT2ZTBfI9seVfkyP4WgdZcbwKMZLyRAP1gB6thnyMpQwjCtfMA1S_SPw7H7qR9Augfpgr9l21my91JDhSLnISqP4NSmHBYnKh_WODUjSmNuPZdCwjCvKhQGD6tLOJ7qih_8hw/s320/april-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329089561228663858" border="0" /></a><br /><br />This is me of course. Like the new hat?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyocbLqFMKY2_pCANAkaRhip1NVIUT2XSYNTKcgItk1v9poB6OjiNT5rZBeqTLAyHxggeinR6zBJc7o8LCpb0Dhg1cIr-frHt8gxfx1OHj16Kb-NUp-BNbNN5p7l5L3R-YG5n-4Os4aiU/s1600-h/april-5.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyocbLqFMKY2_pCANAkaRhip1NVIUT2XSYNTKcgItk1v9poB6OjiNT5rZBeqTLAyHxggeinR6zBJc7o8LCpb0Dhg1cIr-frHt8gxfx1OHj16Kb-NUp-BNbNN5p7l5L3R-YG5n-4Os4aiU/s320/april-5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329088633662683410" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Eiffel Tower<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEianr4sXHiHR1iHmJ9O-LKsGBwkn0GSLmsOQRBBVAv7XG6VZnvPI3ZuN2VmNTIcg1UlUx67xRA5Rl6cQ4IG-5cS5Y9ZDDNItWxFOU7o2lVwgfAycxo2Q2_d5PShURCL8LhuugUrwi73gO8/s1600-h/april-4.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEianr4sXHiHR1iHmJ9O-LKsGBwkn0GSLmsOQRBBVAv7XG6VZnvPI3ZuN2VmNTIcg1UlUx67xRA5Rl6cQ4IG-5cS5Y9ZDDNItWxFOU7o2lVwgfAycxo2Q2_d5PShURCL8LhuugUrwi73gO8/s320/april-4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329088633284178546" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Bloomin flowers<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioWPwzjV_mwotqN8dmGpryrNBhkr4FEUc7cJg-aUENlQEEoW37vEV5FQtO01hD8bslTT4Zt9P_mT9ZOGI0VT7BnEQjRtmpygP2v7JE-kgiG0uXtKEGoVaqz2rCTTmuGLE_2ptePM_yl3c/s1600-h/april-3.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioWPwzjV_mwotqN8dmGpryrNBhkr4FEUc7cJg-aUENlQEEoW37vEV5FQtO01hD8bslTT4Zt9P_mT9ZOGI0VT7BnEQjRtmpygP2v7JE-kgiG0uXtKEGoVaqz2rCTTmuGLE_2ptePM_yl3c/s320/april-3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329088627218465666" border="0" /></a><br /><br />More bloomin flowers.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtWUNt0Bq4sV1gOh2fKru0yNq8Q-muhw0c-BYCuGSz-ogKpiFDaCLPm4UCM6pR1uTu1ks407ZUAQB3oV2WlemcmqgMCoC2bzqBT8cGnfN6KpRb_ZUwtegyxIqIIGI04HL0Sw-rL9pyl_A/s1600-h/april-2.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtWUNt0Bq4sV1gOh2fKru0yNq8Q-muhw0c-BYCuGSz-ogKpiFDaCLPm4UCM6pR1uTu1ks407ZUAQB3oV2WlemcmqgMCoC2bzqBT8cGnfN6KpRb_ZUwtegyxIqIIGI04HL0Sw-rL9pyl_A/s320/april-2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329088630580068770" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />A new friend<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKz_3bT5O6uKOUN01Sk6ASbINQX89WK79k-8CO-LLWfJQQgRqhyxR1w9eez5Xo1Y09EQerrf2WUUtjNPuavTIeBViaREksjGxfJEwXcijRdU9GVKgkcjIAglYflzuUL_p5rnI71jwsEu0/s1600-h/april-6.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKz_3bT5O6uKOUN01Sk6ASbINQX89WK79k-8CO-LLWfJQQgRqhyxR1w9eez5Xo1Y09EQerrf2WUUtjNPuavTIeBViaREksjGxfJEwXcijRdU9GVKgkcjIAglYflzuUL_p5rnI71jwsEu0/s320/april-6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329088638577137170" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>Chase Emery Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05897305711866059258noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7958049970571773204.post-40928341990075803632009-04-18T22:01:00.004+02:002009-04-20T22:26:38.532+02:00Rue Cler - French Food in Paris<div style="text-align: center;">Without doubt - rue Cler is one of the most famous food streets in Paris, and its a 5 minute walk from my apartment.<blockquote></blockquote><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyZY-8_9E5m1tJJ1GQNXUr0W6I1iY1uPBn1yAWWYYwEsmSxnemXm_lfQQeQeJF5Pns1JHYLDgF-U0cnQqYkSe0kDkPNGUGJ-fpBht8g7n_x8jip5jqieObdv5oLS1tTnqYvXQzu69LvLM/s1600-h/rue-cler-1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyZY-8_9E5m1tJJ1GQNXUr0W6I1iY1uPBn1yAWWYYwEsmSxnemXm_lfQQeQeJF5Pns1JHYLDgF-U0cnQqYkSe0kDkPNGUGJ-fpBht8g7n_x8jip5jqieObdv5oLS1tTnqYvXQzu69LvLM/s320/rue-cler-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326868836707041186" border="0" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span>In 1659 Louis XIV granted David Chaillou the first and an exclusive right to sell </span><em>chocolate</em><span> in </span><em>Paris</em><span>, where he continued to do so for the next three decades</span>.</div><blockquote></blockquote><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn2CgnOOhY0S4T9gcW0xolze7QpN3VWy6VvcqEKZVa1dU8BcMPrEFmq_pz9XZuTSRirAX2KGS8jmcaw7SHNqCvTmfD5QS987ks2JhZ8JM3eOpczRbqm-GrIEGBAOpkZ01qlOIOVipZViI/s1600-h/rue-cler-2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn2CgnOOhY0S4T9gcW0xolze7QpN3VWy6VvcqEKZVa1dU8BcMPrEFmq_pz9XZuTSRirAX2KGS8jmcaw7SHNqCvTmfD5QS987ks2JhZ8JM3eOpczRbqm-GrIEGBAOpkZ01qlOIOVipZViI/s320/rue-cler-2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326868838793779538" border="0" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">In France, a place where you buy wine (<span style="font-style: italic;">vin</span>) is called a <span style="font-style: italic;">cave</span>. This man was kind enough to teach me a few things about the quality of wine. Although people have been drinking wine for thousands of years the French still believe they invented it!<br /><blockquote></blockquote><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitswGT_3ElqXxSZ5Wrer7zD2UOWpTyooTnWIi21gWioYW9jj5l5S0ULvv0keAYUHW4QR_-a0Vvdq2BL_-dLdgv8qhk9Kh4GZiLcs4UAc0uBseGOIVIwFY6kt0J9BgK-Ak-__-dLLPB0VM/s1600-h/rue-cler-5.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitswGT_3ElqXxSZ5Wrer7zD2UOWpTyooTnWIi21gWioYW9jj5l5S0ULvv0keAYUHW4QR_-a0Vvdq2BL_-dLdgv8qhk9Kh4GZiLcs4UAc0uBseGOIVIwFY6kt0J9BgK-Ak-__-dLLPB0VM/s320/rue-cler-5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326868845656680274" border="0" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">As you may know, the best bread (<span style="font-style: italic;">pain</span>) can be found in Paris. One of the major brands is <span style="font-style: italic;">Poilane</span> which is famous for their wood-fired ovens and can be purchased in a bakery (<span style="font-style: italic;">boulangerie</span>).<blockquote></blockquote><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgut2UfceTWHN3CL_jjIF8jY-zISvPgu6_WTg-RcvSiu_ujvAP1Bg026_p6KY7ENHj0RggVioUOQyxV-l_gAzC0NT2xSx9-XzFSHBgit-0CuWU4ObkWwngcQtZnLcGQ_7oIVTKi6U34Hhs/s1600-h/rue-cler-4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgut2UfceTWHN3CL_jjIF8jY-zISvPgu6_WTg-RcvSiu_ujvAP1Bg026_p6KY7ENHj0RggVioUOQyxV-l_gAzC0NT2xSx9-XzFSHBgit-0CuWU4ObkWwngcQtZnLcGQ_7oIVTKi6U34Hhs/s320/rue-cler-4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326868843918764418" border="0" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;">France is like the moon. It has 340 unique varieties of cheese (<span style="font-style: italic;">fromage</span>). My favorite cheese is aged <span style="font-style: italic;">Compte</span> which is excellent with cherry jam.</div><blockquote></blockquote><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCiZuVK4ZurKXC2LaPmoy8-N3nikzIxkzmQUnh2P4xHqIyx3gNDd2SNibyXXruf2Y8s934fh6uoG1s3HhlFkCGfbF_5TntkgDHz_QKMAeme_U7T1kGJ-lBhZyL51iRM-QWXEFrsDtnCJs/s1600-h/rue-cler-3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCiZuVK4ZurKXC2LaPmoy8-N3nikzIxkzmQUnh2P4xHqIyx3gNDd2SNibyXXruf2Y8s934fh6uoG1s3HhlFkCGfbF_5TntkgDHz_QKMAeme_U7T1kGJ-lBhZyL51iRM-QWXEFrsDtnCJs/s320/rue-cler-3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326868839047569986" border="0" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">I hope you enjoyed my first post and will be back soon with more about my life in Paris!<br /><br />A bientot!<br /></div>Chase Emery Davishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05897305711866059258noreply@blogger.com5