A long, strange trip

Leuven town square before the Great War

A month or two ago the organization I had been playing music with had the stage for a couple hours at a music festival at Arenberg campus. I played with two strangers but then when a couple familiar friends came on, we were on the same page, one particular span I really surprised myself with what I played. The lighted paths through the woods from one stage to another and the occasional tent on my way out after playing will be an everlasting image.

A while back I had a lovely time wondering through the Belgian countryside to go visit the abbey at the park, the aroma of freshly tilled soil and the aesthetic appeal of wide open fields, beautiful ponds providing a picturesque view of the backside of the abbey with their banks of lavender foliage.  I arrived, I sat, I read paragraph one of my thesis conclusion, anticipation builds.  I walked along the eastern edge of the park, looking for these fabled ponds.  I the n came upon the abbey after walking around the fields of barley. But before investigating the abbey, my tired legs needed a rest in the cool grass. Here I read the second paragraph.Then at last these ponds appear. After walking around the perimeter of the first and a fitting spot  along the bank of the second, I stopped again where a group of ducks are feeding while a beautiful white swan observes with uncouth rapport. Here,  I read the second to last paragraph of my thesis, an exclamation point. Eventually, I return back to the same bench from the first, to read the final paragraph, back to do (c).

Eventually, with the help of many friendly strangers, I returned to my friend’s house, the kickdrum signals the studio was in session, so you shouldn’t disrupt with a doorbell, enter through the crop field’s out back instead.. The house was full of belgian musicians mixed with a couple pre-med students. My time at that house really was a high point of my year. An inspiration for studying abroad came through frustrations during the trip to Greece: The sample sizes of touring a place only left me wanting more, I wanted to really settle in and let a culture seep into my being. This time on Tervuursesteenweg allowed the saturation to be complete. Every morning, I'd walk out to the sun drenched garden to pick mint for my tea then I'd sit at the patio overlooking the golden crop fields. I really fell for the Belgian countryside, everyone has a quaint garden and a cozy grin. When I'd cook there was often someone at play in the studio or playing music of some kind, here I could visit the garden for thyme, rosemary, etc. I learned about an astonishing breadth of unfamiliar musicians and learned a bit about making music and even about Belgian  life in general from spending this time with these humans. 

 Before I knew it, it was time to head to Paris. My friend Antonia and I sat along the Seine and watched the cocktail boats pass while we sipped whine and ate cheese and baguettes overlooking Notre dame. A glimpse through her glasses really made me miss all the beautiful details to see I've been missing without my own, soon enough I will have them. After a refreshing night at our friendly airbnb hosts’12^th floor apartment with a beautiful view of Paris, we headed off to the Musée Rodin, after espresso and croissant at a cafe. The visit was brief, then it was time to meet for lunch at a crêpe joint which was scrumptious. Luckily we had some time for coffee and tea before I began my journey to the airport to part ways with Europe for a while after completing my MA program from KU Lueven, cum laude.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

Listed below are important books I hope to get my paws on, listed from most to least urgent:

1.) Foucault and Neoliberalism by Daniel Zamora

https://www.amazon.com/Foucault-Neoliberalism-Daniel-Zamora/dp/1509501770#reader_1509501770

 2.) The Birth of the Clinic: An Archaeology of Medical Perception

by Michel Foucault

https://www.amazon.com/gp/offer-listing/0679753346/ref=sr_1_1_olp?ie=UTF8&qid=1473738033&sr=8-1&keywords=birth+of+a+clinic

3.) The Spell of the Sensuous: Perception and Language in a More-Than-Human World (Paperback)

by David Abram:  https://www.amazon.com/gp/offer-listing/0679776397/ref=sr_1_1_olp?ie=UTF8&qid=1473737642&sr=8-1&keywords=spell+of+the+sensuous

Verdant

Brugge

       

               June 16, 2016

There are many ways to end a writing session, and this is one of them.

Interesting work being shared in Scotland, many contributors from Happy Valley:

http://www.graphicmedicine.org/graphic-medicine-2016-conference-stages-pages/

stuff

Writing thesis

Writing papers

Preparing for Exams

I took a train to Brussels to meet

Meeting Matt, a cousin-in-law of the Liotta family, he was headed to Ghent on a business trip.  We toured:

: some sight seeing, had Brussels waffles, mine a warm one with melted white chocolate  followed by a bucket of mussels, A dish of fries, all washed down with a westmalle dubbel.  I had an interesting journey back to the apartment.

I was very close to playing some baseball, but due a minor wrist injury suffered while cycling, that no longer seems reasonable.  While reading exciting new literature in the March 2016 issue of Continental Philosophy, I came across the name: Amy Allen. This reminded me of the wonderful work going on at the Medical Humanities Program at Penn State.

I hope you are having a lovely start to your summer.  As you know, I've been playing with the idea of a PhD involving the phenomenology workshop for patients through their oncology unit there.

I cannot apply until January for necessary funding, but I got an idea today:

As it turns out, Penn State's phenomenology department and medical humanities departments are very impressive.  What is novel akin to the workshop at Bristol is this thing called Graphic medicine {http://www.graphicmedicine.org/book-series/graphic-medicine-manifesto/} So I want to try and bring together these two very novel things: phenomenology workshop for patients (in England) and graphic medicine (in PA).

Venture more

Has anything ever happened to you that defied explanation?

Me too! I had finished up my dose of reading for the day, and it was late. But no matter how much I kind of wanted to have my smoothiesnacktime and get some sleep, I went on ahead and met my friends at The Capital, which has a Guiness Record of some sort for widest beer selection (I might

have made that up) {I will leave that up to you, reader} So we had two beers (both of which were new for me and both equally delicious) then we decided to have some whiskey by the river. To “top if off” we went for some pizza. While enjoying our pizza, Antonia went to make friends with the owner and learn why they changed locations. During her venture, a semi-familiar face joined James and I at our table. After a few looks, I remembered him as the owner of an Italian restaurant we had visited a month or so ago for some limoncello. He sat for a while, bought us all a Stella, made us laugh, had a piece of our pizza, then invited us to his restaurant to make us pasta. Before ya knew it, we were on our way to La Rotonda and upon arrival, he pulls out more stellas for us and flips on some music. In no time, he had whipped up probably the best penne and tomato meat sauce I’ve had in years, topped with basil and parmesan (obviously), drizzled with jalapeno oil.  It took some perseverance, but I scraped every bit from my plate with my bread. After all, living several years with Ferracano had trained me for this. As if this weren’t enough, he opened another round of Stellas then showed us how he makes fresh pizzas which were also superb. When the time came to head home, he wouldn’t accept any money, and my claim hours earlier for an infinite appetite for food was proven false.

Sometimes things happen, and less questions are better.

Strasbourg, France (Photo credit: Beatrice Thompson)

A few days later, some friends and I rented a car and drove to a cottage in Vienville, France.  I drove the Mercedes to Strasbourg, France where we picked up Meredith. She and Maxim showed around, to the beautiful cathedral and to enjoy some French cuisine for dinner. We split a bottle of wine and I tried a dish called Rilette De Canard, a duck meat spread on good toast. It was alright, made better paired with some of my bud’s zucchini and cheese version of the dish. We shared. From there, we took on the last leg of our trip, arriving at our cottage around 11 at night.

We really had a nice time: reading, writing, drinking, sleeping, and eating extraordinarily well. 

Being in the Lorraine Forest area, we did some hiking too; some more than others.

 One particularly pleasant evening was spent by the fire, sipping whiskey and wine while Merideth read and translated a story from French The Little Prince. I want to know what happens.

On our last day there, a few of us took the day to visit Colmar.
We picked just about the perfect time to visit this town: before the summer tourist rush, yet just in time for pleasant weather and vibrant Easter decorations. I was awestruck by the entire day, the brilliant, even eccentric environment and also my absolutely lovely companions, it was just about too many awesome things to handle at once.

From there we went to visit a vineyard. This company, The Adam’s Family, impressed me by the pride they took in the integrity of their product. They care for their wine such that rather than tilling their land with heavy machinery, they use horses. The bottle they sell their wine in has a design unique to their company, and no one else may use that design.

The following destination was a village called Riquewihr, a village with brilliant colors and medieval style where we bought treats and more wine.  Our path through the town brought us by a patio where a group was loudly chanting. In one of the shops, we were asked if we were the ones invading the city for theweekend. We were not.                                                                                                                                                 

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   Before making our way home back home, we scaled up a grape vineyard embedded in a steep hill; we saw the whole village and then some from up top.

And just like that, it was time to head back to Leuven. On the way, we stopped for a picnic lunch at a castle, Haut Koeningsbourg. We were short on time, but we managed to return the car in time; James drove us all the way home with great focus and care.