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We did the steam roller printing yesterday. Thankfully I finished in time (although I forgot to carve in the horizon line, but just ignore that) and was able to print. For some odd reason when I take classes from Elizabeth I end up doing this accordion figure again and again. Sure, he repeats in a lot of my work, but usually only in my mind as the ‘accordion man’ and not with an accordion. Random. The process of printing was very coordinated and it seemed as though I was standing on the side while my print was put through the process, which I am definitely not complaining about since dealing with a 4’x4’ block on my own would have sucked.

It feels so nice to be done with this print because it seemed to be consuming my life for this month, where as there are many other things trying to do the same thing, such as the application process for studying abroad. Since I only have one class today in the later afternoon I thought it appropriate to have just a small celebration after French club where I ended up running into a few Butterflies at the Top Hat.

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French underworld tattoos at the turn of the century. The man sports a tattooed mustache intended to foil the prohibition of facial hair in the Foreign Legion. The World of Tattoo by Maarten Hesselt van Dinter. I can only dream of being anywhere near that combination of badass and crazy. Though at that point the Foreign Legion was probably still the best place for criminals to get their record cleaned so perhaps he is as well quite legitimately scary upon all of that. I find myself flipping back to this page time and time again to romanticize the French underground from around 1900. Give him an accordion, a beret, and some braces. Prostitutes who could easily kill you if you ever come up short and tattoo the names of their ‘actual’ lovers between their breasts, close to their heart. Tattoo ‘Je mother fucking t’aime’ in a tattoo cursive along my collar bones.

Windy Coffee. [part 1]

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