In ten days, I leave for a six-week trip to south-western France, where I will be conducting research for my Ph.D. dissertation. I'm going alone and I'll be traveling by bicycle within France along part of the medieval pilgrimage route that runs from Tours to Santiago de Compostela in Spain. This is either going to be an extremely meaningful period of introspection and personal growth for me, or I'm going to drive myself nuts before I'm done.

The basis of my dissertation is to construct and decipher a vernacular lexicon comprised of marginal sculpture on twelfth-century churces along this route, concentrating particularly on the use obscene or profane figures. Unfortunatley, the guidelines of the BPAL blogs specifically prohibit the posting of obscene and profane material (no mention of whether 900 year old obscenity counts), so I most likely won't be posting photos of those elements. However, I'll try to link to outside sources like Flickr for the real meaty stuff.

I'm totally packed except for my laptop, my toothpaste, my makeup, and my jammies. I'm shipping my bike over on Tuesday, so it will be waiting for me when I arrive. For the most part, I'm zombified. I'm so ready to go, so ready to be on the road with my camera, and yet I've been having some really severe panic attacks. I'm sure this has to do with my pathological fear of flying. I've not been on a plane since 1993, and in that case, the woman behind me gave me a valium so I'd chill out. Being a control freak can be majorly detrimetal to one's mental health.

So tonight, I'm going to a departmental awards ceremony where I'm getting a nice chunk of change ($4500!) to pay for a lot this trip. And maybe therapy after being alone with myself for so long.

More later...