Angoulême znova - 1

Až do konce srpna jsem zas v Angoulême v Maison des auteurs, na residenčním pobytu. Pod štítkem Angoulême najdete zápisky, co jsem si tu psala před osmi lety. Na tomhle odkazu je první z nich. Tentokrát sem budu asi spíš vkládat stránky komiksového deníku, co si tu vedu.
Vítejte v Nové Aqitanii, ve starodávném městě na řece Charente.

August 2018
Angoulême! 
This is how the French countryside looks like from the TGV windows. But then, I get out of the train and the smells and scents are here again and those old houses and I am happy to be here again. For the whole month, in the residency of Maison des auteurs.

Wednesday, 1.
In terrible heat I am happily climbing the hill up from the rail station to Maison des auteurs - House of authors. I have been here - how many? I am counting the years all the time - eight years ago, when I was drawing Les Sauvages. I worked really hard then.
- french tree
- french railing
I don't have to this time. But I would like to, anyway. I'm just not sure what to do exactly...
Two days ago I finished a big work for TV, so I have time to do "something personal", finally.
I just have to watch out so that this emptiness, this promising free time for creativity wouldn't be overwhelmed by the infamous horor vacui.

Mathilde and Gabriel, my room-mates, are waiting for me at the Maison.

We are greeting with Pili. Since last time she's got fantastic hair. (I mean, she had nice hairstyle, eight years ago she got hair too...)



The staircase like in some castle. Room-mates are so nice, they help me with my suitcases.

They even cooked the dinner.
He's of the age of Bety, she's like Martin. They live in Brussels, he' going there soon.







Later we go out for a drink, with Nina too, we know each other from Norway.

Thursday, 2.
The air is shivering with the heat outside. The sound of French chattering  and calming clinking of cutlery is wafting from the restaurant Jardin de Kashmir. I'll go there for a lunch, at least to get the password for wifi. Then I could catch it across the street.
- My empty half of the bookcase



I switch on my little radio I've brought.
- ... deep in the sky! Your light sees far... You travel around the wide world... (lyrics from Dvorak's opera Rusalka)
- Mooooon, stand stiiiill a while and tell me where is my dear!

I got a place in a studio in the 3rd floor. But I'm alone here. M+G are next.
I wonder what am I going to do here... What do I have in one month...


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