A short comic I drew right when I first arrived in France.
I think in order to delay the realization that I was the furthest from my “life” I had ever been before, I immediately started working. Drawing is the biggest comfort blanket in my life and no matter what it is, whether its a break up, hospital visit, dropped ice cream cone, I just draw. And watch Golden Girls.
And I still haven’t used my oven. Throwing a lit match into an oven and risking death by gas explosion seems like asking too much to cook a frozen pizza. I like limbs thank you very much. A short comic I drew right when I first arrived in France.
I think in order to delay the realization that I was the furthest from my “life” I had ever been before, I immediately started working. Drawing is the biggest comfort blanket in my life and no matter what it is, whether its a break up, hospital visit, dropped ice cream cone, I just draw. And watch Golden Girls.
And I still haven’t used my oven. Throwing a lit match into an oven and risking death by gas explosion seems like asking too much to cook a frozen pizza. I like limbs thank you very much. A short comic I drew right when I first arrived in France.
I think in order to delay the realization that I was the furthest from my “life” I had ever been before, I immediately started working. Drawing is the biggest comfort blanket in my life and no matter what it is, whether its a break up, hospital visit, dropped ice cream cone, I just draw. And watch Golden Girls.
And I still haven’t used my oven. Throwing a lit match into an oven and risking death by gas explosion seems like asking too much to cook a frozen pizza. I like limbs thank you very much. A short comic I drew right when I first arrived in France.
I think in order to delay the realization that I was the furthest from my “life” I had ever been before, I immediately started working. Drawing is the biggest comfort blanket in my life and no matter what it is, whether its a break up, hospital visit, dropped ice cream cone, I just draw. And watch Golden Girls.
And I still haven’t used my oven. Throwing a lit match into an oven and risking death by gas explosion seems like asking too much to cook a frozen pizza. I like limbs thank you very much. A short comic I drew right when I first arrived in France.
I think in order to delay the realization that I was the furthest from my “life” I had ever been before, I immediately started working. Drawing is the biggest comfort blanket in my life and no matter what it is, whether its a break up, hospital visit, dropped ice cream cone, I just draw. And watch Golden Girls.
And I still haven’t used my oven. Throwing a lit match into an oven and risking death by gas explosion seems like asking too much to cook a frozen pizza. I like limbs thank you very much.

A short comic I drew right when I first arrived in France.

I think in order to delay the realization that I was the furthest from my “life” I had ever been before, I immediately started working. Drawing is the biggest comfort blanket in my life and no matter what it is, whether its a break up, hospital visit, dropped ice cream cone, I just draw. And watch Golden Girls.

And I still haven’t used my oven. Throwing a lit match into an oven and risking death by gas explosion seems like asking too much to cook a frozen pizza. I like limbs thank you very much.

 
The 19th of November 2012 NOTES: 63 France, Angouleme, Comics, Jeremy Sorese,

Maybe its because I’ve had very little interaction with teenagers in the last few years but the teens who live in town seem to always be on my mind, mostly because they are awful. I’m figuring its some sort of strange jealously, me having grown up in dull suburban Virginia and these punks get to take their smoke breaks while lounging and groping on the beautiful walled fortifications that overlook the lush french countryside.

Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t expecting everyone to spend their days discussing Camus in the park but then again, dealing with Justin Bieber look-a-likes who bust open two liter bottles of soda in crowded book stores wasn’t part of my itinerary either.

Its like *UGH* you punks, why are you dressing like the cast of The Jersey Shore, your education system is too good and you should know better.

 
Salut from the Charente region of France, you guys!
I’ve been here in Angouleme for just around eight days now and its starting to finally sink in that I live here (temporarily of course). I’m *mostly* settled in my apartment and studio. I haven’t been getting too lost as I venture into the winding streets of the old town. I already have my go-to-bar (I’ve been there twice) partially because the bar tender assumes that because I’ve lived in Chicago before, I have connections to the mob and hearing his excitement over this is more than worth the price of a glass of wine. I already have a habit of taking my mid-afternoon walk through the city to try and get some exercise (but I’m totally missing the point with the pain au chocolat I buy mid-walk). 
Today I bumped into another resident from La Maison Des Auteurs, this super cute girl named Julie, who tried to explain to me that taking a walk through Rue De Herge (a large pedestrian avenue named after Mr. TinTin himself) was ugly and I would be better off spending my time elsewhere. Most of the photos above are from that avenue, which to my untrained eye are so lovely I can hardly stand it. 
In many ways it feels a bit like living in Disney world in the off-season. The magic of these beautiful buildings feels a little too thought out to be genuine, especially after having spent a month in suburban Virginia. It seems so unimaginable that someone could live here and take it for granted, feel smothered by it in the same way my home state feels to me now. Her loss, I guess. Salut from the Charente region of France, you guys!
I’ve been here in Angouleme for just around eight days now and its starting to finally sink in that I live here (temporarily of course). I’m *mostly* settled in my apartment and studio. I haven’t been getting too lost as I venture into the winding streets of the old town. I already have my go-to-bar (I’ve been there twice) partially because the bar tender assumes that because I’ve lived in Chicago before, I have connections to the mob and hearing his excitement over this is more than worth the price of a glass of wine. I already have a habit of taking my mid-afternoon walk through the city to try and get some exercise (but I’m totally missing the point with the pain au chocolat I buy mid-walk). 
Today I bumped into another resident from La Maison Des Auteurs, this super cute girl named Julie, who tried to explain to me that taking a walk through Rue De Herge (a large pedestrian avenue named after Mr. TinTin himself) was ugly and I would be better off spending my time elsewhere. Most of the photos above are from that avenue, which to my untrained eye are so lovely I can hardly stand it. 
In many ways it feels a bit like living in Disney world in the off-season. The magic of these beautiful buildings feels a little too thought out to be genuine, especially after having spent a month in suburban Virginia. It seems so unimaginable that someone could live here and take it for granted, feel smothered by it in the same way my home state feels to me now. Her loss, I guess. Salut from the Charente region of France, you guys!
I’ve been here in Angouleme for just around eight days now and its starting to finally sink in that I live here (temporarily of course). I’m *mostly* settled in my apartment and studio. I haven’t been getting too lost as I venture into the winding streets of the old town. I already have my go-to-bar (I’ve been there twice) partially because the bar tender assumes that because I’ve lived in Chicago before, I have connections to the mob and hearing his excitement over this is more than worth the price of a glass of wine. I already have a habit of taking my mid-afternoon walk through the city to try and get some exercise (but I’m totally missing the point with the pain au chocolat I buy mid-walk). 
Today I bumped into another resident from La Maison Des Auteurs, this super cute girl named Julie, who tried to explain to me that taking a walk through Rue De Herge (a large pedestrian avenue named after Mr. TinTin himself) was ugly and I would be better off spending my time elsewhere. Most of the photos above are from that avenue, which to my untrained eye are so lovely I can hardly stand it. 
In many ways it feels a bit like living in Disney world in the off-season. The magic of these beautiful buildings feels a little too thought out to be genuine, especially after having spent a month in suburban Virginia. It seems so unimaginable that someone could live here and take it for granted, feel smothered by it in the same way my home state feels to me now. Her loss, I guess. Salut from the Charente region of France, you guys!
I’ve been here in Angouleme for just around eight days now and its starting to finally sink in that I live here (temporarily of course). I’m *mostly* settled in my apartment and studio. I haven’t been getting too lost as I venture into the winding streets of the old town. I already have my go-to-bar (I’ve been there twice) partially because the bar tender assumes that because I’ve lived in Chicago before, I have connections to the mob and hearing his excitement over this is more than worth the price of a glass of wine. I already have a habit of taking my mid-afternoon walk through the city to try and get some exercise (but I’m totally missing the point with the pain au chocolat I buy mid-walk). 
Today I bumped into another resident from La Maison Des Auteurs, this super cute girl named Julie, who tried to explain to me that taking a walk through Rue De Herge (a large pedestrian avenue named after Mr. TinTin himself) was ugly and I would be better off spending my time elsewhere. Most of the photos above are from that avenue, which to my untrained eye are so lovely I can hardly stand it. 
In many ways it feels a bit like living in Disney world in the off-season. The magic of these beautiful buildings feels a little too thought out to be genuine, especially after having spent a month in suburban Virginia. It seems so unimaginable that someone could live here and take it for granted, feel smothered by it in the same way my home state feels to me now. Her loss, I guess. Salut from the Charente region of France, you guys!
I’ve been here in Angouleme for just around eight days now and its starting to finally sink in that I live here (temporarily of course). I’m *mostly* settled in my apartment and studio. I haven’t been getting too lost as I venture into the winding streets of the old town. I already have my go-to-bar (I’ve been there twice) partially because the bar tender assumes that because I’ve lived in Chicago before, I have connections to the mob and hearing his excitement over this is more than worth the price of a glass of wine. I already have a habit of taking my mid-afternoon walk through the city to try and get some exercise (but I’m totally missing the point with the pain au chocolat I buy mid-walk). 
Today I bumped into another resident from La Maison Des Auteurs, this super cute girl named Julie, who tried to explain to me that taking a walk through Rue De Herge (a large pedestrian avenue named after Mr. TinTin himself) was ugly and I would be better off spending my time elsewhere. Most of the photos above are from that avenue, which to my untrained eye are so lovely I can hardly stand it. 
In many ways it feels a bit like living in Disney world in the off-season. The magic of these beautiful buildings feels a little too thought out to be genuine, especially after having spent a month in suburban Virginia. It seems so unimaginable that someone could live here and take it for granted, feel smothered by it in the same way my home state feels to me now. Her loss, I guess. Salut from the Charente region of France, you guys!
I’ve been here in Angouleme for just around eight days now and its starting to finally sink in that I live here (temporarily of course). I’m *mostly* settled in my apartment and studio. I haven’t been getting too lost as I venture into the winding streets of the old town. I already have my go-to-bar (I’ve been there twice) partially because the bar tender assumes that because I’ve lived in Chicago before, I have connections to the mob and hearing his excitement over this is more than worth the price of a glass of wine. I already have a habit of taking my mid-afternoon walk through the city to try and get some exercise (but I’m totally missing the point with the pain au chocolat I buy mid-walk). 
Today I bumped into another resident from La Maison Des Auteurs, this super cute girl named Julie, who tried to explain to me that taking a walk through Rue De Herge (a large pedestrian avenue named after Mr. TinTin himself) was ugly and I would be better off spending my time elsewhere. Most of the photos above are from that avenue, which to my untrained eye are so lovely I can hardly stand it. 
In many ways it feels a bit like living in Disney world in the off-season. The magic of these beautiful buildings feels a little too thought out to be genuine, especially after having spent a month in suburban Virginia. It seems so unimaginable that someone could live here and take it for granted, feel smothered by it in the same way my home state feels to me now. Her loss, I guess. Salut from the Charente region of France, you guys!
I’ve been here in Angouleme for just around eight days now and its starting to finally sink in that I live here (temporarily of course). I’m *mostly* settled in my apartment and studio. I haven’t been getting too lost as I venture into the winding streets of the old town. I already have my go-to-bar (I’ve been there twice) partially because the bar tender assumes that because I’ve lived in Chicago before, I have connections to the mob and hearing his excitement over this is more than worth the price of a glass of wine. I already have a habit of taking my mid-afternoon walk through the city to try and get some exercise (but I’m totally missing the point with the pain au chocolat I buy mid-walk). 
Today I bumped into another resident from La Maison Des Auteurs, this super cute girl named Julie, who tried to explain to me that taking a walk through Rue De Herge (a large pedestrian avenue named after Mr. TinTin himself) was ugly and I would be better off spending my time elsewhere. Most of the photos above are from that avenue, which to my untrained eye are so lovely I can hardly stand it. 
In many ways it feels a bit like living in Disney world in the off-season. The magic of these beautiful buildings feels a little too thought out to be genuine, especially after having spent a month in suburban Virginia. It seems so unimaginable that someone could live here and take it for granted, feel smothered by it in the same way my home state feels to me now. Her loss, I guess. Salut from the Charente region of France, you guys!
I’ve been here in Angouleme for just around eight days now and its starting to finally sink in that I live here (temporarily of course). I’m *mostly* settled in my apartment and studio. I haven’t been getting too lost as I venture into the winding streets of the old town. I already have my go-to-bar (I’ve been there twice) partially because the bar tender assumes that because I’ve lived in Chicago before, I have connections to the mob and hearing his excitement over this is more than worth the price of a glass of wine. I already have a habit of taking my mid-afternoon walk through the city to try and get some exercise (but I’m totally missing the point with the pain au chocolat I buy mid-walk). 
Today I bumped into another resident from La Maison Des Auteurs, this super cute girl named Julie, who tried to explain to me that taking a walk through Rue De Herge (a large pedestrian avenue named after Mr. TinTin himself) was ugly and I would be better off spending my time elsewhere. Most of the photos above are from that avenue, which to my untrained eye are so lovely I can hardly stand it. 
In many ways it feels a bit like living in Disney world in the off-season. The magic of these beautiful buildings feels a little too thought out to be genuine, especially after having spent a month in suburban Virginia. It seems so unimaginable that someone could live here and take it for granted, feel smothered by it in the same way my home state feels to me now. Her loss, I guess. Salut from the Charente region of France, you guys!
I’ve been here in Angouleme for just around eight days now and its starting to finally sink in that I live here (temporarily of course). I’m *mostly* settled in my apartment and studio. I haven’t been getting too lost as I venture into the winding streets of the old town. I already have my go-to-bar (I’ve been there twice) partially because the bar tender assumes that because I’ve lived in Chicago before, I have connections to the mob and hearing his excitement over this is more than worth the price of a glass of wine. I already have a habit of taking my mid-afternoon walk through the city to try and get some exercise (but I’m totally missing the point with the pain au chocolat I buy mid-walk). 
Today I bumped into another resident from La Maison Des Auteurs, this super cute girl named Julie, who tried to explain to me that taking a walk through Rue De Herge (a large pedestrian avenue named after Mr. TinTin himself) was ugly and I would be better off spending my time elsewhere. Most of the photos above are from that avenue, which to my untrained eye are so lovely I can hardly stand it. 
In many ways it feels a bit like living in Disney world in the off-season. The magic of these beautiful buildings feels a little too thought out to be genuine, especially after having spent a month in suburban Virginia. It seems so unimaginable that someone could live here and take it for granted, feel smothered by it in the same way my home state feels to me now. Her loss, I guess. Salut from the Charente region of France, you guys!
I’ve been here in Angouleme for just around eight days now and its starting to finally sink in that I live here (temporarily of course). I’m *mostly* settled in my apartment and studio. I haven’t been getting too lost as I venture into the winding streets of the old town. I already have my go-to-bar (I’ve been there twice) partially because the bar tender assumes that because I’ve lived in Chicago before, I have connections to the mob and hearing his excitement over this is more than worth the price of a glass of wine. I already have a habit of taking my mid-afternoon walk through the city to try and get some exercise (but I’m totally missing the point with the pain au chocolat I buy mid-walk). 
Today I bumped into another resident from La Maison Des Auteurs, this super cute girl named Julie, who tried to explain to me that taking a walk through Rue De Herge (a large pedestrian avenue named after Mr. TinTin himself) was ugly and I would be better off spending my time elsewhere. Most of the photos above are from that avenue, which to my untrained eye are so lovely I can hardly stand it. 
In many ways it feels a bit like living in Disney world in the off-season. The magic of these beautiful buildings feels a little too thought out to be genuine, especially after having spent a month in suburban Virginia. It seems so unimaginable that someone could live here and take it for granted, feel smothered by it in the same way my home state feels to me now. Her loss, I guess.

Salut from the Charente region of France, you guys!

I’ve been here in Angouleme for just around eight days now and its starting to finally sink in that I live here (temporarily of course). I’m *mostly* settled in my apartment and studio. I haven’t been getting too lost as I venture into the winding streets of the old town. I already have my go-to-bar (I’ve been there twice) partially because the bar tender assumes that because I’ve lived in Chicago before, I have connections to the mob and hearing his excitement over this is more than worth the price of a glass of wine. I already have a habit of taking my mid-afternoon walk through the city to try and get some exercise (but I’m totally missing the point with the pain au chocolat I buy mid-walk). 

Today I bumped into another resident from La Maison Des Auteurs, this super cute girl named Julie, who tried to explain to me that taking a walk through Rue De Herge (a large pedestrian avenue named after Mr. TinTin himself) was ugly and I would be better off spending my time elsewhere. Most of the photos above are from that avenue, which to my untrained eye are so lovely I can hardly stand it. 

In many ways it feels a bit like living in Disney world in the off-season. The magic of these beautiful buildings feels a little too thought out to be genuine, especially after having spent a month in suburban Virginia. It seems so unimaginable that someone could live here and take it for granted, feel smothered by it in the same way my home state feels to me now. Her loss, I guess.

 
So earlier this week, I received THIS in my email inbox. I have emailed the author back, the mysterious PeterBD, to get his approval to share this handy work of his with all of you because a ” I appreciate your work” email is one thing but a rap in which I am compared to Tupac NEVER EVER HAPPENS EVER.
I try and keep my Tumblr praise private and not make a real big deal of it because no one is here for that kinda stuff, but being in the middle of this never ending graphic novel project with nothing to show of it yet (see above picture) and my looming trip to Angouleme nearing the end of this month (Oct. 2nd, to be exact) its easy to forget you have an audience. 
So, all I want to say is thanks you guys! Thanks! Thanks! Thanks! Thanks! So earlier this week, I received THIS in my email inbox. I have emailed the author back, the mysterious PeterBD, to get his approval to share this handy work of his with all of you because a ” I appreciate your work” email is one thing but a rap in which I am compared to Tupac NEVER EVER HAPPENS EVER.
I try and keep my Tumblr praise private and not make a real big deal of it because no one is here for that kinda stuff, but being in the middle of this never ending graphic novel project with nothing to show of it yet (see above picture) and my looming trip to Angouleme nearing the end of this month (Oct. 2nd, to be exact) its easy to forget you have an audience. 
So, all I want to say is thanks you guys! Thanks! Thanks! Thanks! Thanks! So earlier this week, I received THIS in my email inbox. I have emailed the author back, the mysterious PeterBD, to get his approval to share this handy work of his with all of you because a ” I appreciate your work” email is one thing but a rap in which I am compared to Tupac NEVER EVER HAPPENS EVER.
I try and keep my Tumblr praise private and not make a real big deal of it because no one is here for that kinda stuff, but being in the middle of this never ending graphic novel project with nothing to show of it yet (see above picture) and my looming trip to Angouleme nearing the end of this month (Oct. 2nd, to be exact) its easy to forget you have an audience. 
So, all I want to say is thanks you guys! Thanks! Thanks! Thanks! Thanks!

So earlier this week, I received THIS in my email inbox. I have emailed the author back, the mysterious PeterBD, to get his approval to share this handy work of his with all of you because a ” I appreciate your work” email is one thing but a rap in which I am compared to Tupac NEVER EVER HAPPENS EVER.

I try and keep my Tumblr praise private and not make a real big deal of it because no one is here for that kinda stuff, but being in the middle of this never ending graphic novel project with nothing to show of it yet (see above picture) and my looming trip to Angouleme nearing the end of this month (Oct. 2nd, to be exact) its easy to forget you have an audience. 

So, all I want to say is thanks you guys! Thanks! Thanks! Thanks! Thanks!