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Charles Carmody

The Voyage Across the English Channel – Charles Carmody

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Yesterday we got up Sparrow Fart early (this is an expression i learned from Chris our Australian bus driver, and apparently its an expression they use to express getting up at ungodly hours in the morning, much like our saying ‘the early bird gets the worm’ but Chris assures me that sparrows fart way earlier than birds getting worms) yesterday morning and headed to the ferry that would be taking us to merry old England.  Of course it rained all night long creating a small river through the middle of the tent and continued raining while we packed the bus.  It seems that we have been cursed by rain on this trip, or maybe blessed i have not decided which yet, but as I type this I am sitting in Bath with drenched pants and soaking wet socks because of the constant downpour since nine this morning.  Anyways, all of my previous ferry rides have been quite enjoyable and I was quite excited about being on the sea once again.  We all boarded the ship and began to explore and the cars and boats were loaded on the bottom.  This was no more ferry, it had its own movie theatre with movies like Iron Man, which i proudly saw.  She was quite a fine vessel, however, she did not handle the giant rolling waves very well that day.  Less than halfway into the trip more than half of our team was either in the bathrooms puking or sprawled out on benches trying to ignore the constant rocking that was churning their stomachs.  I had the privilege of trying to make lunch while massive rollers exploded against the side of the boat.  I nearly got sick on the ham i was trying to cut and groans were let out by everyone the minute Mel opened up the bag of cheese.  Lets just say not that many people ate lunch.

We finally found our refuge top deck where the wind and fresh air seemed to soothe even the sickest of stomachs.  We laughed, pretended like we were super heroes as we opened our jackets to the whipping winds, and rolled around on the helicopter pad.  We saw the white cliffs of Dover as we pulled into port and just made terrible circumstances into a wonderful day.

That is one thing that I have enjoyed most about our group; the ability to laugh and smile in the worst of situations.   We are a resilient bunch, and we certainly have been through a lot together.  It makes me sad to think that in a week I will have to say good-bye to these friends, this family, but I will always remember this trip, and I know that I have grown exponentially in the last two months.

Kunsthaus Museum, Zurich; The Earth is Not a Cold, Dead Place

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It is true that we weer in Zurich over a week ago, but my Internet access has been limited and my ability to blog severely poor. The Kunsthuas has been by far one of my favorite art museums thus far. I learned that it existed when i picked up a postcard in Munich and saw Kunsthaus written on the back of it; the postcard was of a statue of one of my favorite artists, Alberto Giacometti, and once i learned of its existence I knew I had to visit the museum in Zuirch. The following is taken from my journal after visiting the Kunsthaus. Everything about the Kunsthaus was marvelous; the architecture, staff, layout of art pieces, and of course the art itself. I got to see Alberto Giacommetti, a sculptor and painter who died in the 60s. His sculptures are usually these tiny, emaciated, dilapidated, figures, and he has a special technique in which he drips bronze on them once they are almost completed. He begins with a giant piece of ,material in front of him, but he always whittles them down into almost nothingness. He is trying to find the true being inside the material and this seems to usually take him quite some time. He does not seem to be so concerned about his pieces aesthetic beauty, but that they convey truth; true emotion. I also saw so many other artists i love; Lichtenstein, an American pop artist, one of Warhol’s Campbell soup cans, Degas, Renoir, a plethora of pieces by the crazy Jewish artist Chagall, Liebermann, Matisse, and the list goes on for quite some time so I will stop there. Each artist is taking the world and portraying it in their own way. They are pushing the limits of human imagination, expressing a message whether it be political or philosophical, and they are trying to solidify just a tiny fragment of time and space in their works. Why do we love art so much? What is it that pushes humans to create? Your guess is as good as mine. However, i definitely believe that we were created as creative beings, and we can choose to use our creativity to bring beauty to the Earth and life out of the cold dead places in our hearts.

Anyways, I have thoroughly enjoyed visiting all of the art museums and trying to tackle the question what is art?