Empowered and Informed

navigator, first class

2012-01-25T17:15:00.000-08:00

I like Lincoln about sunset time, on days when I get to go home and be alone. Does that sound as sad as I think it does?
Nevertheless.
It's the time where I can like, breathe. I know I have a lot ahead of me still to do, a lot of day left to live and the likelihood of copious amounts of reading left to do before the next day. But those are put on hold for me around sunset time. I like to look at the sky. It's so big here, and it frequently looks like this:

which is pretty okay, if you ask me

I guess the early night is sort of time for me to stop thinking so damn much and start to feel things. I put feeling things on hold a lot throughout the regular day: work, reading, class all require nothing but THINKING. Thinking is pretty nice, but there needs to be a balance. Balance.

So here's what I have been feeling this week. Since I am trying to work on presence, I am trying to focus really hard on not missing people and letting myself be here. With that in mind, I fill myself up with thinking about the reasons why I liked people to begin with; the things that made me miss people once I leave.
This week has been full of my dad. He and I have a very strange relationship. Mostly I just spend a lot of time admiringly perplexed by him and wondering who he is.
When I was a kid, the best adventures were ones where I could either go to the store, or a ride in the car with my dad. I just wanted him to take me somewhere so that I could look at things. I like looking at things a lot. On many of the drives, my pa would turn the navigational duties to me (assuredly to help me build my brains and confidence: #GoodParenting). When I became an angsty teen, he tried to help me feel powerful by declaring me, a fully refined Navigator, First Class.

He even made me a badge.

I loved it. I took so much pride in the fact that I could navigate anywhere, and really, I did have some reasonable navigational skillz. A large part of it was intuitive direction, the rest was map reading.

Today in (one of three bonkers philosophical/crazy difficult) seminar, we were talking about maps as images. I like to think that my map-reading abilities intersect somewhere with my abilities to understand paintings. We (I) decided that maps are actually just images/ paintings. Aaaaaaand, it stands to reason, that since I spent so much time looking at/deciphering them as a kid, it led me (at least in part) to my attempts to speak/think/understand art historically (hi steve.) in everything I speak/think/understand about today.

So there you have it.

Now I MUST get to work reading a 300 page book and pretending to have the capacity to respond to it intelligently by 4 tomorrow afternoon.

THIS:

2012-01-18T10:00:00.000-08:00

...is probably the scariest GIF image of all time.

Thanks, Phineas P. Quimby.

les houseplants

2012-01-16T11:01:00.000-08:00

I think I need all my relationships to be like my relationship with the spider plant my sister gave me before I moved here.

Or like the cactus she gave me before I moved to Utah.

Those plants always love me and are there for me as another living thing in my life, but they are also pretty low maintenance. Plants can be forgiving; I've always loved and admired that quality. I need to learn from them.

I was always confused by people who claim to be incapable of caring for houseplants. My Granny is like that- she says she can't keep anything alive, and it's true. Plants always go into her house alive and beautiful, but come out crusty and dead. How does it happen? I have never battled with that. Maybe I have just been lucky? I'm not sure.

Every two years or so, the cactus wilts and has a really dramatic phase where it turns into a spine covered jelly mess. It's so weird; I probably should ask a botanist about it. I always get into a fit of panic whenever it happens, because I'm terrified of the things I love dying. But somehow it always makes it out alive... better than alive. It thrives.

I think I need to learn something from cactusbaby. You know, like: we all have down times, but then we come out stronger. Or maybe something like: life is mysterious and amazing, but through all of that, life goes on.

Life goes on beautifully.

It Happened

2012-01-13T23:08:00.000-08:00

I am finally used to the train noises in the night.
They aren't comforting yet, but comfortable at least.
Maybe some day, I will miss them.
Maybe.

I Live With Children

2012-01-12T18:53:00.000-08:00

People (maybe even you) are curious.
I am presently sitting in my room overhearing my roommates talk. It is one of my number one favorite activities that I use to avoid home-working.
They are a source of constant entertainment to me.

Tonight, they are talking about big cities, which is a favorite topic for them. Neither of them had ever left the state of Nebraska until last October. The largest city in Nebraska has a population of 408,958. Their naivete is unceasingly amazing, wonderful and comical to me.

Also, I am pretty sure I scare the hell out of them.

They are telling one another facts about New York (particularly interest in the Bronx) and LA. I have surmised that these are the cities that make up the dream landscapes of Midwestern children. The one just told the other that most of the gangs are in the Bronx (What? Most of the gangs in the world?).

As I listen to them, I feel like a hardened old woman. I first went to New York when I was 19, and to LA when I was 14. Hollywood happened when I was 15, and I left the country for the first time when I was 12, but it didn't seem unusual. My first plane ride was at 11. First concert: 17.

I was a child! They still have yet to do any (except the one who flew for the first time last year) of these activities (they are both 22 years old). I consistently feel like worldly individual whenever I talk to them. I knew Jewish people and black folks! They wonder about them vocally and frequently. One of them had also never met a vegetarian before she met me. I think I dazzle them with having a passport (WITH STAMPS IN IT!!), and tales of a high school graduating class of 1000+ students. That is a population larger than both their hometowns combined and then doubled.

They had no idea what they were getting when they let me move in.

It's good to be reminded of the power of wonderment.

I wonder what they think of me...

semester II

2012-01-11T11:37:00.000-08:00

So far, I have been to one class.
I am the only student in the class.
Holy cow...

Real Work

2012-01-03T20:36:00.000-08:00

I just got off a plane where a baby was literally howlingfor three hours straight. The connector from Denver to Lincoln should have onlytaken an hour and forty, but some troublesome air, and we doubled our flight time.

It gave me more time to think.

I always need more time to think.

I probably need less time to think.

Today, work was the main topic chasing itself around insidemy brains. Not my work per se, notmy employment, but the big, theoretical WORKwork. I’m sitting there watching all of the screens in the plane. Isuddenly get totally creeped out by how many screens there are. It felt very sci-borg grossy to me: this is the matrix, and we are all plugged into it.

Every seat-backhas a screen embedded, and they are a one foot distance away from the face of everyhuman being in the plane’s womb. One is given a crumb of control in the armrest that seemingly allows volume change. What a pitiful modicum of dominion, paltry pretension of stewardship. The screens are all playingthe same thing, in-synch with one another. Mine is graciously malfunctioning,and so is the only blank screen in the place (what luck).

The scene is an extended five-minute commercial for a lineof luxury vehicles. Because that’s obviously what we need.

I am struck by the juxtaposition of the wailing child andthe monotony of the hyper- tan man on the screens.

There is a girl across the aisle from me that has herheadphones plugged into the armrest: she is listening politely to everythingthey are trying to tell her, but her eyes look tired and she might not understandeverything. The good news is that the exactsame thing will reload in five minutes. She doesn’t need to listen.

I incurWendell Berry (because that is always who I incur).

Breathe with unconditionalbreath

the unconditioned air.

Shun electric wire.

Communicate slowly.Live

a three-dimensionedlife;

stay away fromscreens.

Stay away fromanything

that obscures the place it isin.

There are no unsacredplaces;

there are only sacredplaces

and desecratedplaces.

-from How To Be A Poet, 2001

And then, probably because I have beenreading a book that makes me think about things like work and the world and thegospel, I begin, and I cannot stop. Why are they trying to sell a luxury sedanto this girl? What is she thinking? How insidious and totally brilliant. They win! We loose.

What are we all working for?

And then I get into meaning.

I flex my legs.

I was afraid last week that I wasatrophying in my mind and my body for lack of use. I realize that my body is inthe shape it is because my actions have carved it so. I'm reminded of how the story of 2010 exhibited itself on my legs after I chased my professor across Europe. The story is the same formy mind. With a holiday break, my body goes lesser-used and aches from thefalling down and scrapes it encountered. Blegh. My leg is feeling weak, and notas chiseled as I remembered it. I flex, and it isn’t difficult. I need it to bedifficult in order to improve. I need things to be difficult in order toimprove generally. Thus, opposition in all things? Sure.

I think they are telling her that thereis meaning in having things. In buying the luxury sedan and loading your dogsinto it and going to the beach alone. It’s really all about the sedan- lifestyle thataccompanies such a purchase. I want to take her headphones out and ask her whatshe loves, her favorite color, whether she prefers early mornings or latenights, have her tell me about the boys she admires in secret. I want to tell her to love the glittery pink shirt she is wearing because she is almost too old for it. I want to tellher that it will be hard to grow up because that’s what growing is: hard. Andthat it will hurt. It always hurts. I want to tell her that they are lying toher. They are enslaving her into a life that is filled with working for dinerothat will enable her to buy, buy, buy.

This is not where life has meaning.Life has meaning in working to overcome difficulty. Life exists in opposition to death, and while we maynot face it on a daily basis in our cush first-world of-luxury-sedan-advertisementson airplane-rides-in-the-middle-of-the-country, it is the actual basisof existence. And we a re being lied to if we can really divorce ourselves from the actuality of death's encroachment. Death is stagnation. I want to rail at myself for forgetting this; for forgetting thebeauty that comes in growth and the power that is hidden in opposition. I needto remember that it isn’t all about the benjamins. It’s about the people; alwaysthe people.

And here we are.

Meaning in life is found in oppositionand in its absence. Meaning is found in work and overcoming. Meaning is foundin change. Not luxury sedans, but howling babies whose ears hurt because of the altitude's sharpness. The baby who doesn't know that his pain will end.

Christmas Break Part I

2011-12-28T10:20:00.001-08:00

This is in no way a comprehensive list, but I am hoping it's a digestible amount of info about the highlights of Christmas Break thus far:

Falling down
I basically destroyed my knee(s) and face. Suffice it to say that I probably should have gotten stitches. Also, again, my body is amazing at healing.

Sleeping for 12 hours in Brown Town.
Thanks KB's family. Your mattress(es) are delightful.

Bountiful Temple
I have been to 8 of Utah's 13 LDS temples prior to this vacation. I can now claim 9. I want the rest of them too! The Bountiful Temple is incredible. I was able to go with my dad one day after my 1 year endowment anniversary. Very good way to commemorate the Christmas season.

Dad washing dishes to pay for dinner
We have a family tradition of going to a kind of terrible pizza place whenever we are all together in Ogden. My dad thought it would be fun to "forget" his wallet and pay for our dinner by washing dishes. The bartering system is an active force, as the employees let him scrub plates for about five minutes before they decided it was maybe a bit unprofessional.

Spooning with Jenny
My sister is the best at spooning me. She's so selfless and always lets me be the little spoon. That's true love.

Wizard coats/hunting for weapons
In line with family traditions, we also make a yearly trek to an amazing (literally, so incredible) store, Smith and Edwards in northern Utah. On this particular adventure, Jen and dad and I found some military coats that made us look like medieval wizards. Accordingly, we hunted for some weapon props and had a photo shoot. Images will follow shortly.

Trying to explain Skype to Granny
My dad gave granny a Skype account and a webcam for her Christmas gift. This made one of my main tasks to attempt to explain how Skype works and the point of it to her. I sometimes forget that older generations have a totally different context than me; it's good to be reminded of that once in a while. It helps me appreciate technology more, as well as to see my timeframe as both fleeting and new.

Granny trying to make Brandon's call into the Lawrence Welk show
With the new Skype gear, and an expected call from Germany, Granny decided to make the call just-so with a lot of setting and arranging. She hung snowflakes that my brother made four years ago, and tried to persuade us to sit in front of the Christmas tree with a crackling fire lit in the background, nevermind the fact that is was about 90 degrees in her living room.

Brandon
Baby brother called us from Bayreuth, Germany. Seriously, it was so incredibly good to not only talk tom but to see him for an hour and a half. He has grown immensely in his confidence, his spirit and his maturity. I will be home in October, 2k12. Can't wait. We will get to talk to him again in May.

More to come!

Almost.

2011-12-03T22:20:00.001-08:00

I just finished writing my first term paper of my graduate career (19 Pages? why yes, this IS real life).
I have one presentation and two papers left to write for the term. Those papers are only loosely formed.
I was aided in the fact that it snowed nearly the entire day in Lincoln, causing me to tumble into a veritable pit of despair and indignation. I had to channel all of my energy caused by this personal foul into something creative. The six (and growing) inches currently on the ground outside were the perfect catalyst for me to sit down and finally commit to this paper.

Snowflake Studies

Wilson Bentley

ca. 1902

Paired with some Edamame, Neko Case and The Kills, this is the Perfect Paper-Writing Storm (PPWS for future reference).

I feel only 83% good about the final outcome of the paper, but I can't really afford to spend any more time on it.

Sometimes good enough has to be good enough.

I have a lot to say about a lot of things, but I cannot fathom staring at this presbyopia- inducing screen, with all its pdfs, pixels and internet- seduction for another second. I will have to report more fully at a later date. Just be ready for lots. of. goodness.

Now I need to go take 50 Quaaludes and force myself to unwind; do not think about art, history, theory or culture, context or style for one more minute.

quagmire

2011-11-27T21:45:00.001-08:00

I am at a loss.
I can't write anything, and I can't ask questions. Of anything.
This needs to pass quickly- I haven't got time for drawn-out episodes of confusion/desultory effort.

thnxxxgiv 2k11

2011-11-22T23:02:00.001-08:00

I embark tomorrow morning for the great (not yet) white north land.
My hopes are high, mostly because north = reunion with Marge, whom I love immensely.
I am armed with music in my pocket from a sweet boy, a homemade map and a tank full of gas.

Also I learned to sing Jingle Bells in German today. It''s good to remember the languages you learn.

I will conquer the prairie in the morning.

TYoPA

2011-11-16T23:46:00.001-08:00

This year may have been the worst time ever to deem "The Year of Physical Affection". I don't know anyone in Nebraska with whom I can share my physical affections without being 100% creepy (100% creepy is never my objective: I max out at 89%).
If you are reading this, and you plan to see me before the year ends, plan to make up for lost time.
And Let's PLEASE make it as awkward as possible for everyone else in the room.

tidbits

2011-11-13T11:14:00.001-08:00

I hate the word tidbit.

Here are some links that have been open on my browser this weekend seemingly endlessly:

1.Dating.

2. Thinking you are smart.

3. Church.

4. One of the most important things in the world is freedom of the mind.

5.Knowing and inhabiting the world (I just generally love this blog...)

6. Childish. ("these girls droppin' like the NASDAQ". Genius.)

I just want to bake pies and cut my hair.

Round II

2011-11-12T22:43:00.001-08:00

By way of update to this, I should now like to commemorate that this town often smells of aged beef jerkey, there are many strange sounds at night (such as street sweepers and owls and cackling women), often my house wiggles for the benefit of the thundering trains that pass through a block away, and I am suspicious of the cold because I am always.

To hell with this place/I want nothing more than to be in love.

there is an alarmingly increasing amount in the things I might enjoy forgetting.

I feel like this

2011-11-12T20:21:00.001-08:00

a lot lately. Growing up is hard.

My Baby

2011-11-11T12:25:00.001-08:00

This is a semi-official link to my graduate school project. It isn't really a finished website yet, but we are working on it.
In slightly related news, I am working on writing a rejection letter to everyone who applies but whose work doesn't really fit with the project. So far I have written:

Dear [Insert Name],

TheGreat Plains Art Museum at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln would like tosincerely thank you for your submission to our juried exhibition, “ContemporaryIndigeneity: The New Art of the Great Plains”. We received a surprisingly large amount of submissions, and frankly,yours sucked. It was not really what we were looking for, so we ask you toplease come pick it up. It will be in the dumpster located in the alley betweenP and Q streets off of 12^th in downtown Lincoln, Nebraska, as that is where we felt it was most appropriately displayed.

We hope you will apply again to our next show!

And just remember, that which doesn’t kill you only makesyou stronger.

-Alicia Harris

Obviously 100% appropriate? I haven't ever really been rejected before, so I'm not sure how to do this tactfully. Any tips??

Happy Halloween!

2011-10-31T08:18:00.001-07:00

Generally I don't really like Halloween... issues behind that to be discussed some other time (in person, maybe?), but I think I will try to be at least a little bit festive this year.

I'm going to start by listening to this channel:

horror.

and reading this:

margot's room.

Then, tonight, I will try my hand at making chili and cornbread and maybe I will watch this:

Great.

I think this holiday would be much more fun if I had children.

update

2011-10-29T16:25:00.001-07:00

today was better.
Much better.
I'm still not certain about everything, but I am feeling less pit-of-despair today.
I had lunch with a potential mentor.
I am grateful for people who are kind.
Also, I think academia is in need of more HUGS.
thank you for your concern.

I might be having a crisis.

2011-10-28T20:14:00.000-07:00

This post might suck: full disclosure. Just a warning.
I am having a tiny bit of an existential crisis.
I am here for this conference, and what I really want to do is run away from the stuffed shirts as quickly as humanly possible and never (ever) think about Native American art history again. Ever.

(i probably should have taken this test some time ago...)

(my answers to ALL of these are a resounding FALSE.)

Dramatic, much?

Right. So to some of you this will be a surprise, but I believe in talking through these things. Perhaps it will resolve itself sooner than later, but then again, maybe not. We will ride this out, and in accord with the name of this dear sweet old blog, I will be informed, and thereby empowered to do what I need to do.

I'm truly not certain that I am in the right place- if this is where my training has led me. After sitting in session after session today, I'm not really certain that academia is the right thing for me. I question the degree of enthusiasm I have left to talk ad nausea about Derrida's theories about the ramifications of identity, what that might mean for me, and for my practice, if it is or is not possible to open and pursue a formal discussion of certain things, if that's even appropriate, who defines identity, and what identity even is to begin with. I just don't know if I care.

Isn't that horrible?

Let me pause here for a moment to defend myself, please.
I'm not saying I am giving up. I am saying I am having some rather serious doubts about how committed I am, and how much I am ready for this whole serious academia thing. I am nervous that I am not made of the precise mettle that I need to be in order to make graduate school work without wanting to shoot myself.

The honest truth is that I don't think my academic training has led me to a place that I feel ready to leap from. I am in no way discounting my education at BYU, or even the few months I have spent at UNL. In my life, the years I have spent as a student have been the most fruitful and full of my life, and I believe that all education is of some degree of value insofar as it leads you to a plane of inspiration. I do not feel inspired right now. What I AM saying, is that I might be ready for a change. I might be ready to feel inspired again. I pray only that I can find a means as well as the courage to do this if I feel it's the right thing to do.

So now you will ask, What would I do instead?
Funny you should ask.
I am typing this in a living room of a hostel that is UTTERLY inspiring to me. Next to me is a boy from Japan, across from us are two cute German boys who seem to be smitten with one another, and next to them is a cat and two girls of unknown origin. They seem to really enjoy their internet time and Justin Beiber.
Behind me, three British girls are laughing about a super gory Halloween special on tv.
As I reflect, these are the moments that give me the most will to go on living. The human connections. The random encounters and bond- forming. The kitchen full of people laughing and making and eating good (or sometimes not-so-good) food, the front porch with new babies and homemade haircuts, mingling of accents and robust conversations about flavors and farming practices and boys, decorating for holidays with people who don't understand them, weird clothing layers and even weirder ideas about books, heated debates about religion and history and philosophy and hip hop, THESE are were my value system lies, NOT in academic conferences where everyone has to prove their intellectual lineage and justify rationales.
Maybe I am getting nostalgic for a time that is past.
Maybe these are growing pains, and I am willing to accept responsibility for that if it is, in fact, the case.
But I am also willing to give myself the option to get out if I need to.
I might need to.
Any advice?

ought-uh-wuh

2011-10-27T20:57:00.000-07:00

I am in Canada.
As I type four men and three ladies sleep in various bunkings around me (and one lady is awake and laughing gently at her computer screen) because I am staying in a hostel that feels a whole lot like Provo for some reason. It was either the best or the worst idea I have ever had. I'm here for this because, well, it's awesome, and I want to learn things.

There was a cute boy on the plane from Chicago to Ottawa, and I wrote a poem in the airport. It's salty, so I'd rather not share it.

Here's to adventuring in America's Hat.

(yes.)

Wish me luck.

Sometimes I have Horrible, Terrible Ideas

2011-10-18T21:00:00.000-07:00

We got our dog Buddy in the summer of 2001. Our family had moved to Chula Vista a year prior, and we really needed a dog to bring us together after that move. Officially, we got him for baby brother's birthday, but he touched all of us in remarkable and distinctly individual ways.

Yesterday, my dad had him put down, because his body was broken and he was hurting too bad to keep going. My dad sent this email to me today:

So after work I went home to pick Buddy up. I was nervous about it all morning long I fed him a feast of American cheese, ham, grapes and banana. He got so full he didn't want any more ham. He hurt so bad that when I asked him if he "wanted to go for a ride" he was only mildly interested.

I took him to the vet and told him the time had come. He said he thought I would be back since it was the right time for Buddy to go. I held Buddy on the table while he gave him the anesthetic shot and then another overdose of the same. Buddy immediately closed his eyes and relaxed. The vet checked his heart and he was gone. He looked so completely peaceful, it was good to see him at ease and not trembling.

I managed to make it out of the office and into the truck before I started crying like a little girl. I drove him out to the rancho and found a big rock to bury him by. After I dug a deep hole I placed him in it in a blanket. I made a grave marker for him out of concrete. I wasn't really sure of his birthday, so I gave it my best shot. I put on the marker "Best Dog Ever". I really think he was for us. For sure he was the smartest dog we ever had. And pretty loyal with the exception of his miscellaneous wanderings in the neighborhood that got him sent to jail or when he returned to 808 after we moved to Dennis. Remember his growling and barking at airplanes so high you couldn't even hear them? How he killed several birds, a bunch of mice and a long list of flys? How he was forever in pursuit of a stinky old, spitty tennis ball? How he gave himself seizures after running head long into the wall? Rolling over, shaking, playing dead, sitting, sitting pretty, hopping and dancing? Tearing through screens on windows and jumping out just so he could sit on the porch waiting for someone to come home?

He had a good run of it, all in all a great little dog that will be missed and remembered.

Somehow it seems almost unfair to endeavor to love a thing so much that you know will die. It hurts to enter into new relationships and friendships and meaningful interactions because they are laced with the sublime poison of death and defeat. It is so hard and sad.

Stupidly, I thought is would be a good idea to watch this documentary today instead of editing things for work or cleaning my room (to be fair, i was GOING to clean my room while I watched it, but, needless to say, that didn't happen). It was a major mistake, but it felt so good to cry. I ended up in a miserable heap on my bed in the middle of the day just remembering Buddy and all the fun we had together. He was my adventure companion and he always was willing to brave the wilderness of San Diego with me, even when it was rainy and nobody else would, or when possums jumped out and hissed at us. Stupid possums...

I haven't cried at all since I have been here. You might accuse me of not dealing with my emotions, hiding them under a rock, or carrying them in my jaw (face yoga...). Well now we can all relax just a little bit, and rest assured that I am dealing again. I am working on "being in touch" etc. Proof of that is in the fact that later, I cried watching an episode of The Wonder Years.

Fear not. I will soon be well adjusted and mature.

And I thank Buddy for that.

ME: Talking about (more) weird stuff I do sometimes!

2011-10-01T01:02:00.000-07:00

Sometimes (tonight) I go out to bars with friends from school. This is an awkward thing for me because: I DON'T DRINK. Usually I just feel uncomfortable. Additionally I feel thirsty. Drinks in bars are really pretty (sometimes they look like antifreeze or spiderman urine!) and the make people very funny!

Sometimes (tonight) I come home at a moderate time (1:30 am) and attempt to go to sleep because : GENERAL CONFERENCE IS TOMORROW MORNING! Usually I am a champion sleeper. But this time, (due to aforementioned thirst) no such luck. I tossed and turned for an hour. No sleep. I got up and did a face masque and some yoga. Still no sleep.

Sometimes (um... this morning?) I put on pants and head to the grocery store because: I NEED SOME ELECTROLYTES!

Sometimes the cashier checks me out. Hard core. Sometimes he compliments my shirt, which... is awesome... and maybe has eyes on the breasticle area. Also maybe I sometimes don't wear a bra because: IT'S THREE A.M.

I get it, dude. Eyes on boobs at 3 am: DISTRACTING.
Now get back to work.

And you know what? Gatorade and chocolate soymilk in the middle of the night is perfectly acceptable. Please don't judge me or stare (obvs) at my boobs while I pay. We will not make out when you get off work, because six-thirty (yes. He TOLD me that's when he was off work) comes far too early for this lassie.
Also: ew.

I still can't get to sleep, though.

ethics

2011-09-26T19:41:00.000-07:00

ethics happen before the law.
the law takes over where ethics can't regulate your life anymore.
I went to a discussion group today.
I think people don't understand.
and I think that distinction needs to be made.
They kept wanting to talk about intellectual properties:
but the discussion was about ethics.

and that precedes the law.
Am I wrong?

In other news, I really miss my brother.
he told me today that he is starting to dream in German.
I remember those days.

I thought about having a crush, but decided it's not a good idea.

Confession: I am lonely.
How can ethics help me?

I need to write more about how BYU made us have low self-esteem (conversation from tonight...).
More later.

Focus.
Focus.
Focus.

There is just so much

2011-09-21T17:58:00.000-07:00

I frequently feel that my brain will explode with the extremely large amount of items that swirl around therein.

The biggest things on my mind lately (not surprisingly, or infrequently the case) is Native American history. In particular, the poem by e.e. cummings:

Buffalo Bill's

defunct

        who used to

        ride a watersmooth-silver

                                  stallion

and break onetwothreefourfive pigeonsjustlikethat

                                                  Jesus



he was a handsome man

                      and what i want to know is

how do you like your blueeyed boy

Mister Death

I love this poem. I have been thinking a lot about the appropriation of Native American culture and traditional practice in mainstream culture.

I am going to ride this wave and see where it takes me. In the meantime, here are some images to tide you over til I decide I can write about this.

Images are the most important thing.

no...

nooo...

Please, no...

Seriously? NOOOO!

Now I am depressed.

THIS: not cool.

I get it: you don't realize that you are racist.

 And just a little education so that you don't close this tab feeling completely racist, and so that you can know

 some things for future use:

1. Women do not wear war bonnets.

2. War bonnets are sacred.

3. Many feathers have traditional uses (not to mention the impact the trend is having on other industries...)

4. Racism is still alive and well.

5. The term "buckskin" and calling a US Dollar a "buck" are racist. Historical background:

When colonists were settling, particularly around Virginia, they invested in the fur trade, particularly the fur of the deer,

a native animal to the North American continent. For the hide of one male deer (a buck), a person was paid one US dollar.

Thus, the dollar took on the nickname, "buck". As wars with native peoples began, the derogatory idea was to

refer to dead Indian men as "bucks", as they were piled in heaps like the dead deer whose hides would be traded.

So... the point in telling you this? I'm not trying to make you feel terrible for telling me how many bucks you just

scored while big pimpin, I just want us all to be a bit more aware of the etymology of the stuff we say.

My dear sweet sister-cousin sent me a really lovely book about the history of Indian trade blankets.

I was so excited to get some good history on them!

Here is a fun little article talking about how they have been appropriated by hipster culture. With slideshow!!

 Hippies were always trying to be Indians. As we can see, this is not a new trend.

 (PLEASE click this. This is the best scene.)

This is from artist Arthur Amiote. He is great. Maybe I will write more about him someday.

so i am going home and taking a nap.

2011-09-16T13:41:00.000-07:00

So... winter crept up and stole my sunshine*. It was a sneak attack of the most calculated and intricate variety. It was 96 with a heat index of 109 (which felt like 290). So hot... SO sweaty.
Ahem.
It is currently 50 degrees outside, and I am bundled up in my office, which apparently didn't catch the memo that it is no longer summer.
I drove to work/school because there was a cloud sitting on my house when I left this morn, and I wasn't sure my face could deal with cloud bits hitting it as I rode my bike. I like to think about my face thanking me for my well-informed decision to hide it behind a quarter inch of tempered glass.
My boss isn't here today, and I have officially completed the tasks she assigned my for this week.
I think I will now drive that tempered glass home and call it a day. My face will probably thank me for that as well.
I do not know how I am going to make it through a Midwest winter.

Also... (Imagine a rather lengthy conversational pause here, because if we were talking face-to-face, there would be some awkward body-shifting and hair pulling and twirling because i don't really know how to talk about this because, well, I don't know EXACTLY how I feel about it, but I guess it fits in with my post lamenting a larger group of friends that come with a complimentary list of other options for fun timesss)

...I am planning to go to a regional YSA dance tonight in Omaha.
I am terrified.
I haven't been to one of these guys in... years. I went to precisely ONE dance since I left high school (during which time I also attended exactly ONE officially sponsored dance). It was terrible and I left after about six minutes. I am not ready for the awkwardness that is about to ensue, and I am fairly certain that humiliation will be the outcome. I am probably psyched out (Still) from having devoured this book with K-rah during an epic weekend during senior year at BYU. I have a general distaste for organized activities for adults, PARTICULARLY ones that have a soundtrack of music that was played on Top 40 radio stations spanning a time period circa 1992-2005.

this will be me. it will be awkward when I tell him that I don't eat meat, and then he tells me that his parents own a cattle ranch.

Furthermore, I think I was tricked into thinking that I was semi-normal in my time in Provo, where I was basically surrounded by fairly liberal thinking, globally minded people who were interested in the same things I was/am. I didn't realize how excruciating it would be to announce to my new ward family that I am a vegetarian, a feminist, or wearing DI dresses everyday (and no, not because there's something special that I am dressing up for today, but really that's basically the only clothing option that I own. I promise.), or that I am studying art history, even weirder that it is Native American art that I am pursuing, or that I am interested in the earth and what it actually means to practice the doctrine to which I espouse my belief....I came a wee bit closer to understanding how one might feel coming out as a homosexual or some other social deviant.

I guess I am socially deviant in a lot of ways... I guess I didn't realize how strange that was. The uncomfortable stares have begun to get to me, though. I was raised to not care what people think about me. The mantra of my childhood was, "Act, don't react". My dad said it to me a trillion times in my 25 years. It taught me a lot of good lessons, and I became a strong internally motivated person who was happy to be different and acknowledge that there is a whole myriad of difference in the world. Why can't I remember what that means now? Why can't I remember that it feels good to be self-assured and confident in your own nuances and quirks?
(quarter-life crisis ensuing now...)

Maybe I should stop being a prideful-jerk-face and just decide to have fun by dancing to "Play that Funk Music White Boy" one more time??

maybe...

ugh.
wish me luck.

*okay, SERIOUSLY- remember how amaaaaaazing that song was in 8th grade!?!?!

sommetimes the internet cracks me up.

2011-09-13T02:39:00.000-07:00

I was searching for something by the artist Morris Louis:

but was instead greeted by this:

Whaaaat?

I have been here for a month and I feel like a failure

2011-09-12T16:36:00.000-07:00

I had a goal to feel settled here in four weeks.
It has been one month exactly since I arrived.
I do not yet feel secure not settled.
Was that an unrealistic timeline?
Or have I really failed?

In other news, sometimes I don't want to do things that my church (read: only) friends want to do (read:FHE).
But I have been reading about the Renaissance for three hours, and I need a break.
It makes me wish that I had other friends here who could give me alternative options.
I miss you.

Haiku for Lincoln, Nebraska

2011-09-08T20:56:00.000-07:00

I spend lots of time these days
waiting trains which pass
and then make me late for school.

writing

2011-09-07T22:16:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I write emails and send them... to myself.
I do it to report on the day, and to remind myself about things. Usually when I do it, I think to myself, "Maybe someday, when I am dead, someone will figure out that most of my passwords were one of four or five combinations of the same basic things. And when they do they will unlock my email, and they will see how bonkers I really was. I am writing an email to myself. I know this is crazy, but it is also cathartic, and it makes me feel like I'm not alone."
So I keep writing.
Other times, I get emails from other (real) people, with poems that are perfect in them. Perfect because they are true and because they are real life.
I am not pregnant, though.

Do not ever tell me that money is not magic.

Lakota Girl: Or How I Taught the Cornhusker Football Team to Talk About Menstruation

2011-08-31T10:02:00.000-07:00

I am enrolled in a History course at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln where about half the students in the class are on the UNL Football team. They are in the Big 10 this year, which, I guess, is a big deal.

I was so excited when my professor asked us to bring in a discussion topic about a traditional Native American mode of teaching/learning. I used the opportunity to present the Lakota practice of Puberty Ceremonies for girls at the onset of first menstruation.

In this tradition, girls are removed from society and taken to live with a female elder from the tribe for a week. The elder instructs the girl in the way of female wisdom, socially appropriate methods of dealing with her menstrual flow, the goodness of being a woman, her connectedness to all of life through it's existence, and the beauty that can dwell with her in this state. Furthermore, the elder teaches the girl a few games that the girl will then come back to the tribe to play, further teaching them symbolically about the flow of life itself. The process is complete when the tribe holds a giveaway and has a feast to celebrate the girl's transition.

Tradition dictates that people learn through a combination of examples being given, stories being told, and the availability of advice and counsel, culminating in application of practice. This program is a fine example of these ideas, and I was excited to talk about the implications of this.

I find it useful to talk about my own experience (... and since this is my blog, i do what I want!). It is an interesting contrast to the awkward moment where all third graders are herded into the library of the elementary school to watch a severely outdated filmstrip about "becoming a woman", regardless of individual maturity and readiness.
There were a few squirms when I began, but I was surprised and elated at student responsiveness. We talked about the strangeness of dominant (European modeled) society's removal of elements of life, which elements are essential to human existence, from educational practice. Even the football players had something to say! They commented about how it was interesting how we are taught to be separate from our bodies in the educational system of dominant society. There are two women in the class, sisters, who are Lakota themselves. It was very insightful to learn further, that this practice is still in use today.

May this people never "vanish" as Curtis so unabashedly claimed they would.

right now

2011-08-29T20:54:00.000-07:00

I think I believe that we are who we want to be. I have been wrestling about with this idea for a while, and I think it's making sense more and more lately. The idea is basically that each decision is a manifestation of our greatest aspirations, goals and desires. The moment is now. I am choosing this thing right now because it is the opportunity to create the me that I see in myself. Right now.

And if I am bigger, if I need more time, I will make more decisions to become more the self that I want.

I can give myself that at least.

secret confessions of a weirdo

2011-08-24T17:18:00.001-07:00

some days (today) all i want to do is eat mustard in any form I can get it.

Some days (...) I do just that.

The one where I was more freaked out than I thought I'd be: Emergency Preparedness Class

2011-08-18T20:07:00.000-07:00

Yup: that title was just as long as it needed to be.

Today, all the grad students at UNL had to participate in a mandatory Emergency Preparedness Class and Safety Training. We are being trained to take care of our students in the case of an emergency. I don't know why it hit such a nerve with me, but there were two topics that freaked me out pretty badly. Perhaps it's due to my stress levels and the overwhelming sense of vulnerability that I cannot seem to shake off.

The two topics, what I was told to do, and why that scared me:

-Shooters.
For whatever reason, I never really felt effected by the threat of shooters before. I don't know why that was, but today, when Doreen was lecturing us about how tackling the shooter could be used as a last resort, it really struck a chord somewhere in me. I felt this immense wave of grief for people who have experienced such a scary event.

I don't know how I would cope with that.

I don't really consider myself a person who is frequently scared of things generally, and I guess I hadn't really ever thought about such a situation in any depth. I never considered how I would react, and the idea that the responsibility of others' safety will rest on me was overwhelming (at best). And to consider the utter helplessness one would feel in such a place, where a person was threatening you with a weapon that could kill you instantly and without any defensive action available to you. I'm generally not afraid of guns (I've shot my fair share), and I know how to be safe around them. This is sort of a different ballgame.

-Tornadoes.
I have never lived in a place where tornadoes were even a consideration. Really, the mountains and the ocean were always a refuge from the storms of the sky. I find a longing sense of solace in the mountains I used to call my home, and am finding myself feeling totally exposed, even raised, to the sky (in all of its majesty and beautiful power) out on the prairie. This is a great unknown to me in real life; the only encounters I have ever had with tornadoes is basically summed up in this movie:

You should probably watch all of it, because it is amazingterribleamazingterribleamazing.

Anyhoo. The story goes, tornadoes are crazy destructive and really unpredictable. This leads, embarrassingly enough, to an unquenchable fear in me. Add to that the fact that I now live in the top story of a rather tall duplex. Seriously, it's pretty high up here.

Today we were informed that as teaching assistants, we are responsible for the well-being of our students when we have them in class. This does not bode well for me if there is ever a tornado. Mountains and oceans have failed me! I was told to take shelter in a basement or shelter in the event of a tornado, and I was also told that there would be plenty of warning, and that tornadoes rarely strike in the city.

This is all good and well, but i don't have a shelter where I live (top floor)... and we are currently (like, literally, as I type) in a double tornado watch/severe thunderstorm warning.

I'm going to go sit in the bathtub and listen for water to be sucked out of the toilets.
(why does that happen, science??)

I really enjoy forgetting:

2011-08-15T21:37:00.000-07:00

There's a part in True Stories where David Byrne, continuous driver of an incredible convertible, is reflecting on his first interactions in the fictional town of Virgil Texas. It's one of the most poignant scenes for me, where he says, "Well. I really enjoy forgetting. When I first come to a place, I notice all the little details: the way the sky looks, the color of white paper, the way people walk, doorknobs, everything. Then I get used to a place and I don't notice those things anymore. So only by forgetting, can I see the place again. As it really is."
(Sometimes, and in so many ways, that film is solid cinematic gold.)

This is my list of white paper about Lincoln, Nebraska.

-There is a constant buzz of insect noise. People who are from here don't notice it anymore- I asked some. It is this loud buzz of a zillion high pitched voices chomping and celebrating and mating and living in the prairie. One person suggested cicadas. I don't even know what those are.

-One way streets. There are one way-ers in San Diego, but they aren't like these ones. These are the main thoroughfares through Lincoln, and they blow my mind. Every time. People drive fast on them ,and expect you to as well. They yell out their windows, over the heads of their babies if you aren't compliant.

-There are probably nine billion pounds of corn and soybeans growing around me. I get overwhelmed thinking about how monotonous and ecologically unsound it is to grow two things almost exclusively and so abundantly. The utter ocean of cornfield after soybean field after cornfield is mesmerizing at best.

-Nebraska is not a desert. I guess I got used to the desert of Utah, and forgot how green things can be. I guess I let myself slip into thinking that green things only grew in little hidden valleys, and never really considered the vast expanse of the central United States. It is so very verdant, so incredibly alive. It seems shameful to not know the livingness of this place.

-Lawns are very big in this place. I thought is was a falsehood that people really cared about their lawn this much, but it's real, and it's here. It makes for really beautiful looking neighborhoods.

-The sky is utterly expansive, totally engrossing, and engaging at ANY MOMENT in the day. I am beginning to think that I should have gone into meteorology with the amount of time I spend looking up. I live inside clouds sometimes. Sunrises. Sunsets. Mid- Day. Nighttime. All of it. IT is beautiful and huge, and carves itself onward, seemingly forever. I have never experienced a place where the sky was such a major element of things, it was always broken up by the mountains, or in competition with the ocean's largess.I hope I can focus. I hope I don't forget this one.

-People want to talk to me, but they don't really know how. I am trying to relearn the art of friend-making and talking. I forgot how to do that, I got comfortable and lazy in Provo with the immediacy and ease with which friendships were created there.

-Lincoln has a lot of tattoo shops. It follows, then, that there are a lot of tattoos. Mental jury is still out, but for the most part, they lean towards being overjoyed to see so much ink injected under the surface of the skin of my fellow Nebraskans. Beautiful.

-I have, with solemnity, replaced my preset radio stations. I found a replacement for KRCL, but with great trepidation and high expectations. I had to sort through A LOT of Evangelical Christian rock stations and classic rock channels to find it, but I can report a success nevertheless. The new station is... sub-par, but a college station, so I accept. They have a program where they play the music from movies. As in, all of the music. I have always thought someone should do that, so that program alone has me listening.

-The ward is a family more than any other I have ever experienced. I had a really wonderful FHE tonight, and I felt I made some in-roads to making friends. I am curious about the Elder's Quorum President. I think I have a baby crush, one of the variety that doesn't make any sense at all. That is all.

I cannot stop listening to this song (please click this link. The song is so good. I tried to embed it here, but failed miserably. Sorry. Just click. Just click.), because is it perfect for me. Add 800 miles to the part where she says "16 miles to the promised land", and you will understand. This is hard; I'm doing the best I can.

"embrace your introverted side"

2011-08-09T01:00:00.000-07:00

I have been in San Diego for twopointfive days. It took my just as long to get here from Utah, a drive which normally takes about 12 hours. A few observations from my travels:
1. sometimes people are really really fantastic, lovely, and wonderful.
2. las vegas isn't sooooooo bad. I made a few friends there: a third, going on fourth grader, two tow truck drivers, and a shop full of extra caring fast and furious-making mechanics, one of whom has a brother who dances for the Jabbawockeez.
3. it feels about seventynine jillion times better to finally know where my mom, dad, and sister live. Respectively, I observed that their places are, in a word, awesome, interesting, and homey. I like all of those adjectives.
4. i think I will be capable of leaving Provo. I think i can.
5. it feels really good to carry people in my heart. There are a lot of people there... they hold a place because of a certain goodness and a love shared. Thank you to all of you, because you are certainly there (unless you are that weird guy in Malaysia who keeps reading my blog. WHO ARE YOU, MALAYSIA GUY!?!?!?!), and most likely to stay.
6. this family of mine, while vexing at times (to say the least) are mine, and I love them. I am learning to love the dynamic in my family, and learning to relate and fit therein. It has been hard, but I think it's going to be okay.
7. I can be fun. I am fun.
8. I like driving. I especially like doing it alone, fast and at dusk or dawn. These are the times when I feel most motivated, alive, and free.

with that, I say good day, sir.

Помогите! Pomogite! [pama'gi:te]

2011-07-17T15:27:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, I lived with an amazing woman.

Now she is in Russia.

This is a video about the project she made... Care to help?

Go here for more infos.

Fact:

2011-07-14T16:47:00.000-07:00

The best kinds of friends are the ones that will help you make lemonade out of lemons.

(or bread pudding out of too many hamburger buns.)

you know who you are.

and thank you.

You'd know it if you saw it.

2011-07-13T13:14:00.000-07:00

Also!

(Apparently I have a lot to say today...)

This poem PERFECTLY describes a lot of my feelings of late.

Click to listen and read along!

DTRs

2011-07-13T12:47:00.000-07:00

On a long drive recently, I came into a conversation where a friend recounted an episode where two male friends (hers, not mine) engaged themselves in a contest to see who could have the most DTRs (click the link if you are confused. Only read the top five definitions.) in one month. It began as serious, and then turned into a joke where they were eventually DTRing with people they just barely met just to rack up their numbers. I was struck at the idea of DTRing everyone... probably fueled by an overpowering sense of insecurity and desire to receive some feedback. With the story and high hopes in my pocket, I set off to DTR with as many of my friends as possible. I figured that I am leaving this place in a little over a month, so it would be nice to have the tablets of my heart inscribed with a discussion of where our relationships stood.
Some of these conversations were horrible; others beautifully enlightening and heartwarming; a few were surprising. From the various reactions, I earned a few things about friendships, and mostly a few things about myself. Perhaps I will write more on that last it later.
For now, though, I have learned that:

1. relationships are sacred
For most people, the beginning of the DTR was impossible, because the things we value about each other are deeply held beliefs and they are difficult to access because there isn't frequent discussion of this sort. Once that place was accessed, however, what spewed forth was tender and moving. This usually accompanied the realization that there are many things that are, in fact, indefinable about relationships.

2. defensiveness is counterproductive
Of the DTRs I had, a few went like this:
me: So. What's going on between us? Like... where do we stand?
them: Uhm... i don't know. what do you mean?
me: I am doing this project where I DTR as many times as I can. I was just wondering how it is that YOU define our relationship, I guess.
them: I don't know. Is there a problem?
me: I don't think so, I was just thinking it would be nice to talk to you and see where we stand. I really value your friendship, and I feel like it would be nice to see how you felt.
them: oh- I don't know.
These were rather unfulfilling, and helped me see more clearly that defensiveness is counterproductive... to everything. No progress was made in our relationship(s), and I extrapolated that there cannot be progress made in any realm if defensiveness is keeping you back. I myself am guilty of this, and perhaps can use this example to correct my folly in this area.

3. i need people, and people need me
I learned this from so many of my friends. Many said it to me in telling me about how we improve one another, and how we build one another. I have long believed that the reason we have friends is to see the goodness in our own selves. What a marvelous blessing.

4. i can be good at listening and asking the right questions.
This is becoming an increasing skill. I am working on it, and I can feel myself improving.

DTRs can be powerful good.
In other news, I sent a letter and told someone that I might love them.

On Leaving

2011-07-13T12:35:00.000-07:00

From my journal, July 11, 2011:

"The human animal is in near-constant flux, a state of active refinement, and at a certain point, "comfort" becomes stagnation.

I am ready.

The other night while I was bedding down on the couch on the front porch, I watched a girl ride her bike up and down my block, and eventually built up the courage , right in the sometimes-circle cast only sporadically by our streetlamp, to let go of the handlebars. The moment was beautiful ; nobody else was around to applaud her or lend her their faith in her success, but she ventured anyways."

I am feeling good about my move. In a conversation today with a dear old friend, I re-committed to maintaining the strings that have thus tied us together. I know that there will be a collateral loss in leaving this place, but I am left hoping that I will see the gain in spite of the loss, and that the friendships and relationships that are strengthened thereby will be stronger by degree of those I leave behind.

Robert Montgomrey, subversive advertiser, artist and poet

i had a dream

2011-06-30T08:08:00.000-07:00

that i had to do something very publicly naked, and i found myself really body conscious, which is not my norm.

WHAT DOES IT ALL MEAN!?!?!!?!?!?!

embracing:

2011-06-25T16:02:00.001-07:00

unmade plans.

Is that what you do? So do I!

2011-06-13T21:22:00.000-07:00

this rendition of this song is totally horrible;
last weekend was the opposite of horrible.

why not have a three-legged visit to a horde celebration of freedom with an fellow non-consumer?

(this guy was impressed with our skillz.)

then M. B.'s feet got tired.

oh hey, K$$.

uhm, M.B...?

dat's better!!

snaxxx

and then we slept in that treehouse again. seriously so good.

I'm pretty sure we both look the best in the morning. ;(

'lil temple excursion down to Manti. Purely joyous.

Don't we look happy?

Photochopping skillz.

I am grateful for my friends. Here's to one-and-a-half months of summery goodness.

Europe

2011-06-09T18:24:00.000-07:00

I totally did this before it became a craze... also, we called it 'facedown', you'll kindly recall.

somebody is smoking outside right now.
I thank smokers all of the time inside of my head all of the time, even though I know (logically) that I should be disappointed or angry at them. But I also know (emotionally) (yes. they are different. and yes. they are real.) that smoke smells like Europe. I have been back for almost a year exactly. It will be exact in two weeks time. That smell is glorious, and sometimes I forget what Europe smells like. I spent a lot of time smelling Europe... Smell, in my humble opinion, is a thoroughly under-appreciated sense, so I made a point of smelling things. Sure I looked a little strange at times, sniffing the walls of churches, exotic (can western Europe be considered "exotic"?) trees, subway stations and museum artifacts.
So thank you, anonymous smoker outside. Thank you for reminding me of the continent.

KAPITAAL from STUDIO SMACK on Vimeo.

via

this video also reminded me of the EU for it's overwhelming visual stimulation and basic foreign-ness.

-summer, boo-

2011-06-06T16:36:00.000-07:00

I slept in a tree house last night.
It was a night full of innocent and funny jokes, tube lighting, sleeping bags, funny boys, face-kicking, chickens, planks, and hips.

May every night this summer be so delightsome.

2011-06-06T15:53:00.000-07:00

morning drive.
take me to a park.
in this shell
this body, full (soft) metal jacket.
LOUD MUSIC THAT'S JUST MINE, AND WHATEVER I WANT IT TO BE.
music's just noise unless you're alone,
as he said.
this: experience
one of existing
small/
and/
honestly/
and/
abundantly/
and/
vibrantly./
Inside.
world wheeling, hemming and hawing outside of me:
morning joggers
bounce their flesh/
in/
vaporous morning air/
and think about their children/
future and current./
the begging 'ness' of the rest of the day,
hair wraps itself/
married to the breeze/
in sinuous tendriline straps/
of black/
linger about my arms/
kiss my face./
Turn fast and hold.
take me away from everything I know I should be doing, morning drive.

via

i'm going to learn to build an ark

2011-05-30T10:06:00.000-07:00

and I'm going to go hang out with these guys

duh.

letter to my body

2011-05-03T16:43:00.000-07:00

This morning while I was showering, I was thinking about a few recent conversations I have had about bodies. In one, my co-conversant asserted that we are our bodies. I disagree forcibly, and I have been coming to terms with exactly what it means to disagree with his point.
So as i stood in the warming water, I began to speak to my body, and I was overwhelmed with how much love I have for it. It's a good thing that I practically live alone, I guess. I think it's worth writing down, because there is a lot of hatred peddled all around us that I don't believe in, and don't care to be part of. So here it is: my letter to my body.

Hi body.
Thanks for always being around me. I am really grateful for you and I validate and recognize your innocence and beauty. There a few points I want to make because I'm not sure that you will ever be more beautiful or able in all of your life, and I want to be sure to make them now before the appropos moment passes.

First off, I'll point out a few things I love about and want to thank you for.
I love that you heal; you heal. And you do it without my conscious knowledge. It's incredible. With the whole recent neck deal-y, I have been amazed at your mad skillz, and the incredible knowledge stored within that I didn't know you had. Seriously, so blown away.
I love those lungs that have taught me what it means to persevere, to accept and give, and then to look for more. Lungs are, hands down, my favorite body part. I am consistently amazed how they fill up and release and then refill again, and again and again; a beautiful cycle of accepting the rhythm of the world. I'm sorry for all of the exhaust fumes and urban-weary air I've made you deal with.
To that little part of skin between my eyebrow and my eyelid, you are so beautiful, and not-unlike my mother's. It's my favorite part of her face, and I hope that as you age, you will increasingly echo her.
The long long legs that make up (much) more than half my height, you are so kind. You don't make any sense, but plenty of folks like you well enough. I second the popular opinion that you are wonderful, and end marvelously in ankles that are graceful. Thank you for recovering so well from my adolescent abuses and my lack of care for you.
And those eyes. Those eyes! So profoundly elemental in my practice and my passions. Gratitude runs deep here in my license to seek the world beyond my own. I'm sorry for the things you have taken that you didn't want to. May we try to heal.

Next I would like to explore a bit more this idea that we aren't our bodies. Rather, I believe, we are engaged in a miraculous partnership with physical and spiritual matter. Beautiful harmony here. I think we are maybe placed on earth to learn how to interact with physical realities, and we are able to do this through our bodies. Everything we know are experienced through the body- the good and the foul smelling trees of springtime's abundance, the blazing brilliance of the sunrise, the crunch of cabbage, the sound of waves crashing and the pain of being a woman- these are things I know in my body, and I know them certainly.
Body: thank you for teaching my about the world and for allowing me to join you.

And last (for now at least) I want to tell you that I forgive you. I forgive you for being different than what popular society calls beautiful. I never held this against you to begin with, but I want to out the notion into writing here. On the contrary, I appreciate your subversion of the normative powers-that-be.
I forgive you for snapping back to the synapses that have helped me survive. I am conscious of the power of efficiency which you are consistently seeking, and I am grateful for your moxie. I promise you that I am working hard to re-train you. I am working to teach you to grow and progress. I'm grateful for a gospel that teaches me (so thoroughly) that I can do that, and that you and I are partners in so doing. Thank you for subjecting yourself to my will. I will not let you down. I might not be successful the first time, or the second, or maybe even the 107th, but I will be true to you- I will continue to love you. I will feed you the good things of the earth, I will put you to bed when you tell me it's time, and I will pray for you with every breath you give me.
I close with a video which I dedicate to you, body. Again, thank you deeply.
-a

i have gone, i have seen, and i have returned.

2011-04-14T19:34:00.000-07:00

And I will leave again.

I went to Lincoln, Nebraska last week for a visit. Despite having a difficult week with my neckmeats, I had a rather lovely time. I met some great new friends, and was thoroughly impressed by this new city. I hope the Midwest is ready for this jelly, because I accepted the offer (tuition+health insurance+stipend+gainful employment) at the University of Nebraska at Lincoln.

It feels strange to really have a new goal in achievable sight, and to see the future looming so forcibly in front of me. (I will soon enough have a master's degree... who would have thought that would be the case?) I hope that I am ready and able to live up to the expectations I have placed upon me.

I hope most that I will figure out what I really really love before I am too committed.

How do you know what you love?

Maybe I am scared of commitment?

In the meantime, the rest of April promises to be lovely. I am here until August. I hope to maximize my time in Provo, which is as much or more my home than anywhere else on earth at this time. Come visit me in Nebraska?

wow, yeah. Sorry.

2011-04-02T22:37:00.000-07:00

hi there. So it's recently been brought to my attention that it's maybe a little bit annoying how infrequently I update my blog here. Sorry, guys... I guess I didn't realize you were reading for reals. I'm a real-live-work in progress. Thanks for bearing with me.
I have had a lot going on lately, and I guess I'm overwhelmed with all that there is to talk about. I will start with the things most pressing, and we'll see where we go from there.

First and foremost, my neck thing. I am still alive.

Surgery went well, I don't have cancer, and I am recovering well. Even though I personally think it's gross, I have had *many* requests for pictures of the scar...

There it is; I'm pointing it out in case you don't get it.

It's really NBD. Sometimes the healing can be a little rough, and sometimes I maybe have a perma-double-chin look going on because of some swelling, but I digress... Things are healing nicely.
I need to thank many of you for your help through the process of having the operation and the subsequent couple of days. It was really nice to have such a fantastic support system. And! Miracle of miracles! I even got some REAL LIFE COOKIES in the mail from an angel. Seriously, so good (you know who you are).
Aaaaaaaaaaand I started work this week at this place, which is literally just a few blocks from my house. It's great so far, and it's nice to feel like I have something real to do consistently. I think I can make it through until September.
Which leads me nicely to my next point of business which is to officially announce that I was accepted to the art history master's program at the University of Nebraska in Lincoln. It was my top choice of program... and they are sort of offering me a really (really really) good deal there. I am full of wonder and hope and nerves about what it will be like. I think I'll be calling the bishop of the student ward there to ask for some tips and some help. I haven't fully made my decision about going there just yet, as I was also accepted to BYU's program. I'm not entirely sure what to do sometimes.
Which (again) leads to my next point, which is sometimes (other times than when I don't know what to do...) I feel like it's the smartest thing to leave Provo as fast and with as much dignity as I can muster. I have been very frustrated with some things/people/cultural practices here lately (that's an entire book I could write, I guess...), and I literally cannot wait to leave. It scares me to feel so forcible about leaving a place, to have such a fortitude about fleeing a place that I have really made into my home.
I am going to visit Lincoln at the end of the week. I am excited and nervous. Perhaps I will report here.
Also, I had a really funny experience at the temple this week. Some of you maybe heard it already, but if you didn't, and want to know, I'll tell you. It's better in person, though, so I'm not going to write about it here.
And in rather un-connected pontificational news, I am really grateful for temples. Really. It had been a while since I'd been, but I was able to go twice this week. It was a really good thing for me. I am also happy to be able to hear General Conference. Lots of good things.

more medical terms!

2011-03-21T20:34:00.000-07:00

Hey boo(s).
So.
I am going under the knife at eight.

It should be an adventure.

Say a little prayer for me.

I hope to be reporting again soon.

Also.

I got a job.

victory.

in medical terms

2011-03-16T12:53:00.000-07:00

oh hey.
so I have this thing. it's weird. It first showed up a little over three years ago. Recently, it came back with a vengeance, and was all inflamed, causing my to feel like I was running a near-constant fever for about two weeks straight. This was coupled with a whole lot of pain in my neck meats.

delightsome.

Anyways. I'm headed to the doc this afternoon for a lil consultation to see what can be done about it. In the meantime, I thought it'd be nice to share my adventured with you. Sorry if it grosses you out. This might be fun, though.

So to start things off, here's a straight shot of the little frenemy that is building on the neck-region. See? It looks like a lump of hotness on my throat:

Next up, a zoomed-in view, just to be sure that we all know where, exactly, we're looking. yep. that's it. Right smack in the middle of my hyper-ticklish neck.

To make this feel more medical-y, I thought an X-ray would be nice.

And just in case, a thermal scan might be useful too. Looks like a blue boob growing on my throat. Cute!

Now I want you to just envision it in the clouds. Can you see it?

And what if I were "abducted by aliens", you ask? Wonder no more, dear reader:

The little guy has already seen Paris:

Maybe it can visit Maui next?

I tried and tried to get it onto a rollercoaster and even the moon, but the stubborn little guy was too scared, and I ended up looking mostly dead (but with a lady-Adam's apple). such is life, I guess.

I am nervous about this whole situation... because the surgery requires a hospital stay and some intense anesthesia. Oh yeah... and a scar. Too bad I'm not really that in to scars. I get rather squeamish and nervous about medical stuff so... wish me luck. Or send me cookies.

Or both? Yeah. Definitely both.

uh... yeah.

2011-03-11T08:27:00.000-08:00

so guys.
it's time to get real.
I spend 93% of my day with... myself.

(Tangentially, but still related, I really really like myself. I like my interests and find my particular skill set and world-view to be exciting. I like being by myself... I'm probably an introvert who has learned how to be socially extroverted because, well, that's what we do as human beings. Maybe?
I like that I like things. I like that I have interests and I am still learning. A lot.
I have maybe perfected a whole-wheat bread recipe. I have made at least five different types of soup. I have read plenty of books, and have worked on improving relationships with some family members. I have gone to parties (which I was previously in a serious funk about...), and actually enjoyed them. I have written and edited. I have helped new life come into this world. I am learning to serve better + more.

I have learned how to pray again, and really mean it.

I have learned to listen to myself more. Maybe it's because there's no one else around, but still. I think this will prove vital.
This wasn't intended to excuse the time I have spent, rather to illustrate that I like myself and find meaning in the time that we have together.)

(this video, while I understand it's about a breakup of a relationship with some dude, sort of feels like my breakup with school and normal-people-dom.)

I had a serious bout of feeling insecure/frustrated/disenchanted/boring/bored/annoyed/anti-social/guilty/terrible/nervous//depressed/barfy/sick/lame about my situation.

It was a really ugly emotional and self-centered coleslaw of yuck feelings.

That's the honest truth.

I have spent a lot of time telling myself to be happy and to invest myself into choosing happiness (which I DO, in fact, believe is a choice... maybe this is a by-product of my fancy-pants learn-to-think lib arts education?).
But that choice can be really really hard to make when you are reviving feedback that your life is boring. Which I did. Three times. IN. A. ROW.
Let's just say that there are some "friends" that I thought I had, who I will happily use Nebraska as an excuse to avoid. No, thank you, I don't need anyone to ask me if I have a job yet. I'm good at that question myself. I don't need anyone to encourage me to apply. I promise I've applied. And yes: I've even called back. I know full well that the squeaky wheel gets greased, but I don't speak Russian or have a teaching certificate from the state of Utah, and I am sorry that I have a degree that makes minimum wage income beyond my capacity... So I maintain my status.

I have told you, dear reader, several times on this very blog, about my convictions, and I am grateful for the support. I am holding to them.

I am recommitting to wonderment (baby plant life is pushing itself up through the soil. What's not to wonder about?!).

I am recommitting to hope (I was accepted to my top choice of graduate program. With funding. Duh.).

I may have to recommit every single day, and you may hear about it.
every. single. day.

sometimes

2011-03-03T13:53:00.000-08:00

sometimes bestiefriends come to town.

and then this happens:

and it is good.

very good.

roots.

2011-02-28T11:38:00.000-08:00

I just finished another book last week. It makes for seven so far this year (secret wish: 2011 will be the the year of the book. So far, so good.).
It was good. I don't want to hyperbolize in saying that it was amazing or incredible or ground-breaking, earth-shattering, mind-blowing, but life-changing might be apt.

I have a longstanding love affair going with a man.

His name is Wendell.
This latest book, Sex, Economy, Freedom and Community is tempting to eclipse my first love, The Unsettling of America. In some ways, it's the same story re-told 20 years later. In other ways, it's refined stewardship, refined love. Refinements are nice.

I think a big factor in why I love W. Berry so much is that he makes me feel like I am at home. He helps me remember that earth is a sacred place, and that there is love in abundance. Lately, I have been feeling rather home-less. I have a roof over my head, but a roof that I can't afford any longer, and a home that feels like it has been invaded and changed. It's a strange feeling, one with which I am not well acquainted, and which I am having a hard time coping. Berry is a steward of the earth, and his words beg common sense, not political partying and raucous silliness. He talks about sex as a communion, and as a integral part of communities. His words are clearsighted and beautiful.
I should stop raving about him and just encourage you to read his books.

And then I will tell you how it has changed me.

I read that the Bible is a a hypaethral book, one that is to be read open to the skies. Like so many ancient temples. I will let Berry do the rest of the explaining: It (the Bible) is best read and understood outdoors, and the farther outdoors the better. Or that has been my experience of it. Passages that within walls seem improbable or incredible, outdoors seem merely natural. That is because outdoors we are confronted everywhere with wonders; we see that the miraculous is not extraordinary, but the common mode of existence. It is our daily bread. Whoever really has considered the lilies of the field or the birds of the air, and pondered the improbability of their existence in this warm world within the cold and empty stellar distances, will hardly balk at the turning of water into wine--which was, after all, a very small miracle. We forget the greater and still continuing miracle by which water (with soil and sunlight) is turned into grapes.
What the Bible might mean, or how it could mean anything, in a closed, air-conditioned building, I do not know. I know that holiness cannot be confined. When you think you have captured it, it has already escaped; only its poor, pale ashes are left. It is after this foolish capture and the inevitable escape that you get translations of the Bible that read like a newspaper. Holiness is everywhere in Creation, it is as common as raindrops and leaves and blades of grass, but it does not sound like a newspaper.
(As a side note, my baby brother wrote me from Germany, encouraging me to consider the lilies of the field, saying, "You don't have to run around frantically trying to find yourself and what you should do when all you've got to do is calm down and look to your father in heaven for guidance." What a great human being, B. Harris.)

zinnia babies sprouted this week!

It makes me yearn for spring so much. It makes me wish for our garden and to community we built there. In some ways I hate that community, and the ways that it became so all-encompassing and so engaging of my life. I maybe need a new community. Maybe I need to go home to help my dad build a house. And then again, that community is one of the major reasons I am still in Provo. Basically this all brings me to feeling rootless and ill at ease, unsure of my convictions and my decision to stay.
So I plant zinnias and rosemary and put them on the windowsill above the kitchen sink. I bake whole wheat bread and I pray for direction as to where I can put some roots into the soil so that again, I can open up that book and open my heart to the sky.

ps. If anyone wants to give me another reason to stay (or better yet, BE my reason to stay), I am open to suggestions. The only thing keeping me here now is my signature on a contract and the vague promises of summer.

short for shawtie

2011-02-16T15:04:00.000-08:00

this one will be a quick quickie (eh?) for that mid-week feel.
these are open on my browser rightnow. They are all great for their own special reasons, anad totally worth checking. so: check.
1.

this video is my theme-song lately. This is in part in regards to my last post. Eventually I will figure out how to give words to my feelings; for now Rilo will have to do it for me. Thanks, Jenny.

2. yeah... this is cool. Kinda longwinded sometimes, but still veeeeeeeeeeeeeeery interesting.

3. thank you, WSB for this little gem-treasure. Truly. Hilarious.

4. Holy beautiful. This is amazing, and is making me ache even more to be back here.

That's it. Happy Wednesday, yo.

By way of update(s)

2011-02-15T15:52:00.000-08:00

oh hey.
So I just got back from an incredible and excruciating trip to New York, wherein I attended the annual conference for the College Art Association.
It was terrific on so so many levels. I will attempt to elucidate them here:
-The girls. The art history girls. in my department there is a particularly high quantity of fantastic human beings. If you are wondering about who-to-date in Provo, and you are a fine male-type, these women are it. Seriously. They have personalities that range from serious and passionately committed, seeking and open to the world, adventurous and fun to spunky and hilarious. Pure love for all of them.
-The conference. I learned so much and was expanded in a beautiful way. I was nervous some of the time, but overall, I felt the benefits and the goodness of being completely engulfed in your discipline and the like-minded. It was good for me.
-The good news. I recieved some very tantalizing news that has served to assuage some of these concerns. I'll keep it to myself (and a select few of you to whom I've already leaked... you know who you are) for the time being, but it's good. I think it's really good.
-The city. I stayed with dear friend Jendar who lives in a lovely little apartment in Harlem. Her hospitality made the trip so delightful, and because of some other friends living in/visiting the city, I was able to branch out further and get a larger bite of the burroughs than most of my compatriots. Delightful time all-around.
-The art. It might seem obvious (and it should): I love art. Sometimes I think that I actually hate art when I am standing in a room chalked full of Renaissance biblical illustration, but really, in my core, I love it. I fully came to this realization when I stumbled upon the work of long-time-favorite artist Alexander Calder.

via

It was like visiting with an old friend who you haven't seen for far-too-long, and you just can't wait to remember why it was that you fell so hard for them. I stood in that gallery for fifteen minutes at least, just using my own breath to make the composition move. I felt the depths of wonder and love that come from interacting with and knowing a work of art. It was a beautiful experience as those little white dots danced around in the air, just like the work's namesake, a Snow Flurry. Beautiful.

In the same gallery, I interacted a little less legally with one of Duchamp's works:

via

I pushed that wheel, and set off a tizzy of rage and anxiety from the security guard whose sole duty in life is to protect that from happening. Well. I'm not sorry; that bicycle wheel was put on the stool for the intent of moving. Duchamp put it in his studio so that he could explore what kinetics are, he wanted to see the composition of movement. So did I.

-The people. I made a few new friends in Nueva York that I am happy to report as my own. If you are reading, it was nice to meet you. Thank you for being good.

So that was New York. It was perfect.

In other news, I have a lot to say. I am formulating a lot of thoughts and things that I may or may not say here (I'm not sure if this is the right venue for some things...). Please take everything with a grain of salt, and don't think things are directed at you in future posts which might be (slightly) angsty... I'm not into passive aggressive blogging (or anything, really). Like Beyonce, "I'm not gonna dis you on the internet, 'cuz my mama taught me better than that".

The last great app

2011-02-01T10:40:00.000-08:00

Today is the last day of the process of applying to graduate schools. The process has been self-reflective and ...for lack of a better word, hard. Without being too self-congratulatory, I am now entering what will surely be the absolutely most torturous episode of the process of continuing my education: the wait.
In the process of asserting and determining a plan for graduate school, I sometimes felt totally lost, totally flummoxed and doubtful about my convictions to persevere. I wondered what I was doing, and if it was right, but I am very grateful to announce that I am firm in my desire and determination to continue in my education.
I now wait and seek closure on so (so many) many things. Despite this, I have decided to be happy and enjoy the moment that I'm in now. I realized once last week that I was basically unaware of the social norm to be unhappy, discouraged, and dissatisfied with where I'm at. Yes- things could be better, and yes, I could know more things about myself and about others. I can admit that. But there is also so much that is happy and good about right now; about just-not-knowing.

Here's to more not knowing.

via

I am excited about being in New York by this time next week. So much goodness in store there; so much to learn and so many people with whom I can connect and build. I am excited to be on the right coast again, ready to brave snowpocalypse 2011.

In totally unrelated news, I can't stop listening to this song really loud in my room. Also, I have now shaved my underarms 2 total times this year. I don't see why I should... so I don't.

Happy February, people.

January 14, 2010

2011-01-05T18:32:00.000-08:00

The Central Utah Arts Center is pleased to announce the works of Allan Ludwig, Daniel Everett, Pooneh Maghezhe and Sky Steele.

Collected in this show, the works of Ludwig and Everett set out to disrupt ideas of control and logical progression, both in terms of their individual art production and the subsequent contextualization of their work. By consciously attempting to undermine expected outcomes, they seek to open paths to new, and previously inaccessible results.

Working across a range of media, Everett explores ontological concerns and the potential for meaning within neutral space. By basing artistic output on predetermined systems and technological defaults, Everett seeks to externalize the aesthetic choices of a scientific world within his work. His exploration of various landscapes seeks to give value to their very existence. His work gives contemplative value to these spaces through commemorating them in images, while admitting the alienating potential in contemporary, technology-flooded lifestyles. Graduating from Brigham Young University in Provo, Utah with a BFA in photography in 2006 and from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago in 2009 with an MFA in Photography, Evrett is a Chicago original, represented by Scott Projects in Chicago, Illinois.

Ludwig’s exploration of space stands to compliment Everett’s work. In his paintings, drawings, and sculptures, Allan Ludwig investigates a reciprocal corruption between geometric abstraction and fantasy. Each one is reliant on internally consistent structures. This juxtaposition is both a rejection and acceptance of illusionistic space, with a playful aesthetic informed by Greenbergian notions of flatness and depth. Ludwig graduated from Brigham Young University with a BFA in 2004, and an MFA in 2007 from Claremont Graduate University.

Pooneh Maghazehe and Skye Steele will collaborate to mythologize the life and work of Gerard Winstanley, the British 17^th century proto-communist who appropriated public lands and planted crops to feed the hungry during famine. Simultaneously mystic fete and quotidian procedure, the colaboration will demonstrate the marriage of work and spirituality within Maghazehe’s and Steele’s imagined world. Participants operate a massive mechanical contraption to complete a simple agrarian task meanwhile sanctifying their labor with work songs in an invented lexicon of “astral phonetics.”

Occupying the CUAC mezzanine, the rafters above the gallery, and the exterior of the CCA Christiansen Cabin, the work creates an encompassing imaginative space within which the distinction between observer and participant is dissolved through collective effort toward coaxial visible and invisible outcomes. Skye Steele will be initiating a participatory event entitled, The Hot Holy Mess as a part of the collaboration. The event will draw an astral circle around the room within which performers and participants co-mingle in song singing, musical reflection, poetic interjection, and dancing. We celebrate love, lust, mortality, and the world about us in a participatory format not unlike the one used by the church you wish you'd grown up in.

Pooneh Maghazehe resides in Brooklyn, NY. She is currently pursuing an MFA in Visual Arts at Columbia University. Select exhibitions include the Beijing 798 Biennale, the Chelsea Art Museum, DePaul University Museum in Chicago, Asian Contemporary Art Week, Arario Gallery, and Leila Taghinia Milani Heller Gallery. Select publications include The New York Times, Wall Street Journal, Art Asia Pacific Magazine, Art Map Magazine, The Washington Post, and 1 Magazine. In fall, 2011 Maghezhe will be an artist in residence at ZKM institute in Karlsruhe, Germany.

Skye Steele's pursuit of a global improvisational language on the violin has taken him from the backstreets of Istanbul to the mangroves of Brazil and back to Brooklyn. Steele received both his BFA in Jazz Performance and a BA in Fiction Writing in 2002 from the New School for Jazz and Contemporary Music in New York City. His unique sound has lead to work with figures as diverse as, Cyro Baptista, Willie Nelson, Rufus Wainwright, Vanessa Carlton, and Matt Wilson. The Skye Steele Quintet released its first CD, late bloomer, in 2008 to much critical acclaim. With additional performers: Mike Lavalle and Ben Cassorla

-Alicia Harris

december: a review, etc.

2011-01-05T18:27:00.000-08:00

Phew! December was B.U.S.Y.
so a few MAJOR things happened December 2010.

I graduated from BYU with a BA in Art History and Curatorial Studies. Want to hire me?
I went to the temple to be endowed. It was incredible and beautiful and overwhelming and great. So great. BFF Kara came with me- the perfect choice.
My dad moved to Mexico.
My dad's BFF died tragically of a heart-attack while mountain biking (SUPER awful).
My baby Brother landed in and began his mission in Germany. He is in Bamburg currently.
I became unemployed.

that's basically it. I guess it's sort of a lot for one month. Oh yeah- add that to Christmas and New Years with all the hubub that entails. New Years was A.W.E.S.O.M.E. this year (usually one of my LEAST favorite holidays) because it was rather low key, and somehow really incredible and fun. You should find an excuse to have a dance party in the street sometime. It's great.

This new year is going to be full of adventure. I'm feeling a little apprehensive about things as I write this and come to the realization that a lot of things in my life depend on other people's acceptance of me as a person:

+I am applying to 5 graduate schools. So many people will be judging the paper representatives of me in the coming months.

+I given pressure for the first time EVER over Christmas festivities about not dating anyone/being wed. The prospect of dating someone is intimately tied with another person's acceptance and love of me.

+My house has taken a dramatic shift; the end of an era, some have called it. Three new random housemates incur a great deal of stress in the notion that they might hate us and our house's culture.
-one of them flirts with every male-type who has entered our house thus far-
-one of them I have never seen-

In the meantime, I am working at the Central Utah Arts Center. It is Awesome. You should probably check it out.
I write press releases for their shows, and sometimes do other stuff. I'll post the latest.

a list of (20.5.5) things i don't know

2010-12-01T19:18:00.000-08:00

1.how the brain works.
2.how men think.
2.5.how women think.
3.how the atonement works.
4.what/why insulin works/ what it does.
5.how people fall in love.
6.injustice.
7.the internet. What?
8.what to do with my life.
9.how to make definite plans.
10.how to leave gracefully.
11.how to help people.
12.how to fix other people's problems.
12.5.how to stop thinking I should.
13.how to be consistent. that was my goal this year.
14.how to be fearless (i want this).
15.how to establish proper boundaries. with everyone.
16.how to harness talent. others' and my own.
17.my family.
18.how to be vulnerable. and be okay.
19.if i can do the things i ought.
20.how to be myself better.

(these are not in order of importance.)

Done (This one's for Dog)!!

2010-11-28T20:33:00.000-08:00

I'm done with a super-massive project I had been working on all semester.
It feels good to finish something that's sort of huge.
It is scary to me that this project is emblematic of my undergraduate career. In a few short weeks, I will be done with that also. Apprehension is huge, and I have no idea how I will fill up my life for 8 months.
Suggestions? Anyone?

Anyone looking for a live-in nanny or maid?

In other news, my fish Dog died today. I have had him for over a year- since Brandon came up here. I got him because B was lonely in his first semester, and we felt that a fish would help ease the sting of his first time out on his own a bit (we can all remember those scary nights, when you realized that your burning Easy Mac was [soooo much like the paper I just wrote] emblematic of your melting social stamina and general well-being because really, you missed your mom and wanted to just lay down and have someone else worry about the gas bills that are due, and the fact that you are probably malnourished [srsly, Easy Mac!?], can't we?).

(I acknowledge and accept the ramifications of:
1. Run on nature of the last parenthetical sentence.
2. The disgusting-ness of aforementioned. Sorry.)

thanks for the graphic, cfp

Anyways, B found some friends, and then he decided he was unfit to care for Dog. So I got him. Apparently I am no more fit a care-taker for a fish named Dog than he was. I left the country for two months, and miracle-of-miracles, the little tyke survived. In spite of an aerosol nightmare and being fed by roommates twice. Maybe. Dog was a survivor, so hats off to him.

The Great Toilet in The Sky catches us all someday, I guess.

shout out

2010-11-26T13:39:00.000-08:00

I love these people.

Now back to homework.

Break.

2010-11-22T17:01:00.000-08:00

Thanksgiving break begins in five minutes.
I haven't really thoroughly decided yet how I feel about that fact. Mostly I feel unprepared for it.
I also feel like it will not really be a break at all. Hopefully I will be able to let you know about my projects throughout the week. There are a lot of them, and SOME of them are actually sort of exciting. Sort of.

Anyways, Here is the question:
Do I
a. Spend Thanksgiving at home with the 3/8 of the Brown siblingdom
b. Go up to Ogden to be fought over by adoring fans, or
c. Go to Heber with dear friend Jeff to have sup with his family.

????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

Any one of the options might be immeasurably awkward. I guess it all depends on what I wear.

blargh, but good.

2010-11-01T16:45:00.000-07:00

I am taking a break at work right now, I am inexorably tired of searching for a large enough resolution of the Vatican Tetrarchs (that didn't mean anything to you either? weird...)

I think my last post was taken as a little more morose than I had originally intended. Sorry for that. This one, in contrast will probably either be the other end of the spectrum, likely causing you (dear reader), to think that I am manic depressive, or totally bipolar. I am neither, I just have my good and bad days, just like the rest of us (right guys?? Right?).

I feel spectacular today. I talked to my dear sweet sister last night, and she pointed out that despite things being rough sometimes, we just keep going on, always trying to be the best people we can. She said that she liked that I already did that, and that made me feel ever-so nice inside. What a good human she is. Really, truly a gem.

I am aware of the general roughness of the family situation right now, which doesn't seem to be improving by any means. That doesn't mean that I have to carry it around with me every day- that is one of the best things about the gospel, I think. I have come to learn that there is a lot of healing in the Atonement of Jesus Christ- He is such a kind and loving being. I have come to know (however imprefectly) the power of the Atonement to heal broken hearts and to take pain away. It is a beautiful thing to me to have a Savior who loves me to the point of wanting to take away my pain. I know that it is rooted in love- there is no other explaination available for it. It has been hard and I am sure that things will remain hard, if not increasingly so. I have felt an outpouring of support from family and a few friends over the past week (not to mention the past few years for some of them...), and I am incredibly grateful for the love and help that is so abundantly available to me. What a terrific community.

To finish, a list of good things about today:
1. A professor who I esteem highly complimented my research today.
2. The weather is perfect. 100% divine.
3. My brother. I love that kid so so so much.
4. My house is chocked full of fantastic women. So smart, and so able, all of them.
5. I have a fighting chance of getting into graduate schools.
6 Interaction with crush No.1 went swimmingly today.

7. I am wearing my grandpa's belt (the one with the eagle swooping on the dinnerplate sized buckle). Good in its own right. On every level.

Celebratory wahoo, especially for a not-that-bad Monday. Yes, Please.

it was hard

2010-10-28T07:41:00.000-07:00

really really hard to talk to my dad this morning. I wanted to vomit and cry and scream at him because I am disappointed and sad and so so mad about everything and feel so betrayed and abandoned, and about the fact that I cannot trust, and i wanted to tell him about what I believe about how we have to support one another because we promised to, and we promise to every week, and I wanted to comfort him because that is what I promise to do. Every week.

But I was scared that it would feel like talking to mom last Sunday felt: awful and dark. I hated that, and I didn't really know how to deal with it on any level. I just took a shower and cried and tried to understand the things she had said, and the things that I had said and was still saying inside my head. And then I got out of that shower and cried some more on the shoulders of some incredible women, and I think for once, I let people do what they promise to do. Every week.

Instead I just told him that I wished he was happy and I hope that things work out.

What things was I hoping would work out? I regret not telling him how I feel.

I am scared that I am shutting down again.

So this one time I went to Europe...

2010-10-16T20:23:00.000-07:00

...and there are a lot of really really great things there. I resent the fact that I have not really talked about it much on here. My selective neglect is unfortunate, and it will continue. However, there are a few things that I DEFINITELY feel like you should know.

One of the great things that I did while I was in Europe, was play this little game that my friend K$$ and Chunk play on our round-the-world travels. It involves this website. It is very funny, and you should consider playing it.

So there's a lot of public art around in Europe, you know? This is one example.

So. Back to that game.

It's pretty fun to play.

Sometimes I like to go to the steps of really famous architects in places like Paris. I like that a lot.

There are more.
I will try to share them with you sometime.

Promise I will try.

-A

why I did it

2010-09-16T23:05:00.000-07:00

I submitted my thesis for publication this week.
I got an email (so much less classy than a letter) that confirmed receipt of my "manuscript".

I would like to review the events that led up to this event in hopes to assuage the sudden and immense sense of dread that I am presently feeling about the whole debacle.

Since I got back from Europe, I haven't really done much of anything except attempt to recover my

a. sanity and

b. regular pace.

Now that I have finally gotten those back, it seems that my last semester is begging for me to loose them again. A grad seminar class (there used to be two of them, but I realized I was in over my head), three undergrad classes, a brand new (sort of intimidating) calling in church, a position in a presidency at school, prepping for the GRE and praying with all of prayer parts to get into a good grad school, a baby brother leaving on a mission, the garden, and any attempt at a social-life-outlet are all semi-huge demands. Oh. And my family is crazy, in case you forgot that little detail.

Fortunately, It's fall. For me, fall is a time of total rejuvenation and preparation. I feel the best in the fall. Maybe because it's the last vestiges of summer, and maybe because I was born in the fall. I take a lot of cues from trees (it seems to be sort of a theme for me on this here blog thingy...). In the fall, trees drop all that stuff that's not super important for their survival (fact: trees drop their leaves because if they didn't, the dead weight would tip them over. That is neat: also a fact.) I like the way fall shakes things up. I want to shake too.

So there I was, talking with kb about nothing in particular. I love that girl. We were laughing, and I felt a sudden sense of urgency, like, I hadn't done enough yet, and if I didn't act RIGHT THEN, my opportunity would be lost.

I came in my room and for an hour (1am-2am...) figured out what to do to submit, tidied up an abstract I'd been mulling over, and sent them away into the void of the internets. Goodbye, forever? Maybe...

To be totally honest, I didn't think about it. I just went and brushed my teeth and went to bed. It wasn't until I got this stupid email confirming that my "manuscript" had been received that I began to freak out. Talk about inopportune timing, universe. Jeeze. I was having a really good evening too!

Anyways, now I am feeling really nervous and self-conscious about everything. I guess I don't really ever put myself into situations where there's a slight chance that I could be rejected. This was probably a good step for me. But for the moment, it sucks.

ps. Doesn't the term "manuscript" usually connote something a little more like this:

than this:

yeah...

what the...!?

2010-09-15T22:44:00.000-07:00

Wikipedia has an entire section of articles written in "Simple English".

Do we REALLY have to dumb down the dumbest place on the internet?
(scoffs in elitist revulsion.)

In other news

2010-09-14T21:48:00.000-07:00

I am contributing to yet another blog with some fellow BYU Art History students. the blog can be found here.

Get ready.

We're going to blow the art historical canon out of the water.

Tonight is one of those nights...

2010-09-14T21:42:00.000-07:00

...that I know I will miss someday in the not-that-distant future.

The lights on the porch are shining into my bedroom, casting their soft friendliness onto my bed and inviting me to bask here. I can hear laughter and quiet chatter from people that I love. People in the delicious community which I have helped to build and the circle of people who are rooted in a love for one another- true fiends.

I hate getting sentimental before I have to.

But my heart feels like fall. It's beautiful now, but I can feel winter coming on. The future is unwritten, and I know that the decisions forthcoming will challenge my current conditions in unprecedented ways.

My Baby Brother...

2010-08-17T22:03:00.000-07:00

...has been called to serve a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints in the Germany, Frankfurt Mission.

God speed, buddy.

My mother understands trees

2010-08-04T12:06:00.000-07:00

My mother is a master tree steward. She loves trees. I think she loves me too. I had a hard conversation with her last night- I am coming upon a time of great trepidation and nothing seems certain for me in the coming year. I look forward to it with hesitation and a sense of unknowing and frankly, fear.

I walk in BYU's Summer term graduation ceremony in a week. I am terrified. It's the beginning of the end of this incubation which I am not ready to leave just yet. I don't know where to go- I have no home but this one. will not have a job beginning in January (which seems like a long ways away, but really is rather pressing.)

My mom interrupted my tears and told me about trees. She said that it's so tempting to take a sapling that is just starting and plant stakes deep into the ground on its sides and tie it so that it will grow up straight and true.

via

She went on and told me that those are the trees without substance- without any strength or soul. When trees are growing in the wild, they encounter a barrage of insults and challenges. They don't all make it- and they DEFINITELY aren't all perpendicular to the earth. And as wild trees are growing, the winds and storms that push them around cause tiny deaths within the pulp of the tree- micro fractures in their structure.

via

The good news is this: as these micro fractures heal, the tree takes what it has learned from the wind, from the death caused by its incessant pushing, and strengthens itself there. That dead material becomes strong wood that holds the tree against future storms. This old, fractured part moves outward to become a fortress of bark, and new material is allowed to grow within that stern exterior.

New life flows from the ends of the branches.

via

These are the trees that are strong. These are the ones with substance and soul- ones who defend themselves against dearth of water and against pestilence.

My mother understand what it means to be wild- what it means to be grounded. I question her in so many ways and against so many things. I don't know if I know how to trust her, or anyone for that matter. I think I need to learn from the trees and learn again how to trust myself.

No stakes.

YES! PLEASE!!

2010-06-29T23:03:00.000-07:00

I love bedtime.
Eight(ish) hours where you get to lay down, and you aren't expected to do ANYTHING!!!

Also, my sister and I have begun this thing where I call her and she reads me a bedtime story from our childhood. It is exactly as charming as it sounds. Tonight is was Harold and the Purple Crayon, which is really quite the literary gem.

Here's to sweet dreams, keeping your wits and your purple crayon.
Good Night!!

(Image via this fantastic site which I cannot either 1. recommend enough, nor 2. get enough of.)

good to be

2010-06-26T12:54:00.000-07:00

I am pretty certain that my life is charmed somehow.
I need to apologize to any of you who were anticipating a more consistent documentation of my travels abroad this spring.
I hope to recount highlights here soon.
I had an amazing time, and I learned a lot.
I am happy and grateful to be back home, though.
I woke up this morning to a marching band parading itself in front of my house playing God Bless America, which I found rather befittingly ironic in the face of the fact that I spent the last two months away from my home sweet home.
I have amazing friends. I love them, and I am grateful to know them. They are my family in so many ways.
I watched a partial lunar eclipse from the bed I had made of the couch on my porch last night. It was amazing.
I took a nightswim with some amazing women. Nature is a beautiful teacher.
I am truly happy.
I am scared to branch out of this moment of joy and grow more, even though I know that it will come soon.
It is good to be home.

Crushes.

2010-03-17T21:22:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking a lot lately about crushes.
I guess it all started when I moved into a house a few years ago, full of girls who were... very... girly. All they talked about were boys, boys, boys.

I'd never really been one to dish with the ladies, and I NEVER disclosed my secret fantasy-only-(kinda)-love-life. NEVER.

I've since moved out of that house, but those girls taught me a lot about how to be a girly girl. It was so hard for me at first, but now, I am embracing my crush side.

Hell, who knows... maybe I'll even get around to actually dating someone/having a real, meaningful (rather than a secret that nobody doesn't know about) relationship one of these days.
That last sentence sort of sounded creepier than I thought it would.
Today I realized that I have a crush in every aspect of my life. I have a work crush, a church crush, and a social life crush.

[Side note explanation: There isn't really a school crush, but that's only because I go to BYU where all "good" Mormon men major in extremely lucrative fields because of the intense cultural indoctrination about normative gender roles and the supposedly innate need for a man to provide for his family's monetary needs. I'm not saying it's wrong or that I don't think it is a wise plan, rather that it results in an utter dearth of healthy, attractive, intelligent, eligible men in my general scholastic path. There are somewhere around 120 Art History majors at BYU. 7 (on my last count) are of the male gender. Bleh.]

So I got to thinking about my history with these secret loves of mine. I am going to make an admission to you, oh-great-void of internetness: I have never actually dated anyone. I have had a series of intrigues and near-boyfriend relationships that were capitally unhealthy, but never the real-deal. For some reason, this has been bothering me lately.

I'm like Beyonce. All she wants is Jay-Z's baby, but she keeps making songs about how strong and independent she is!!

Probably something to do with that old biological clock thing, or something (I mean- I AM 24, healthy baby bearing age)... honest to goodness, I have three legitimate and substantial crushes right now. I am not going to get obsessive or creepy, I just feel the need to validate my infatuation(s) here.

And I felt so happy after I actually spoke to one crush boy today that I really figured I ought to express my glee.
It lasted about fifteen minutes while he finished his dinner.

I didn't have snot flying out of my nose (that's a story for another day...).

I didn't feel awkward.

We made eye contact.

He initiated the conversation.

It was actually interesting (!!!).

I was holding a giant sandwich.

I didn't say anything really idiotic.

I was funny.
I WAS FUNNY!

He was funny.
HE WAS FUNNY!

We established a future conversation path.

It didn't end uncomfortably, nor too soon or early.

There it is.
Best first real conversation ever. It made me like him all the more. I'm scared that I'm getting carried away, but this time, maybe there's at least some substance to my daydreams...

In other news, Audrey Flack is coming to lecture tomorrow.

You should look her up; she's a fantastic contemporary artist. Also, she's playing a banjo concert with a good friend. I'm pretty certain that it will be extremely entertaining.

this song is amazing.

2010-03-16T13:44:00.000-07:00

I love everything that I have ever heard from her... which isn't a ton, but i'd like to dedicate this song and video to this last weekend.

My Dear Roommate

2010-03-15T11:15:00.000-07:00

is doing a Photo giveaway.

http://christinearmbruster.blogspot.com/2010/03/happy-monday-photo-giveaway.html

She is amazing, so you should enter. I just did.

Also...

2010-03-14T01:51:00.000-08:00

...my parents are WEIRD.

yep.

I Went to a Psychic

2010-03-14T01:00:00.000-08:00

I'm usually a skeptic. I have the hardest time suspending my disbelief in almost everything. But tonight, while waiting for a tremendous hotdog in downtown L.A., I went with a dear friend, who we'll refer to as Boo, to a psychic.
We tried one place first, but we sat in the front waiting room for about ten minutes, we decided she was totally phony (I mean- a psychic who can't sense your presence? C'mon!), we split.
Hot dog consumed, we ventured out in search of someone legit (tongue in cheek...). We came upon a little hole in the wall crawling with little kinders and shelves and shelves full of mystic accouterments and various talismans of future wisdom. Aaaaaand it only would cost us five bucks. So... yep. We went in.
The girl was really young looking. Like late teens/early twenties young. I was surprised about how much she said... I bought it, hook, line and sinker... I'll admit it. There. Now you know.

She told me so many things- it was kinda crazy. I mean, I know that there's a certain art to reading people and then saying whatever they want to hear... If that was her objective, TOTAL WIN. Well- worth the $5.
First of all, she told me that I was a man who died for my beliefs in another life...

perfect...

She also said I was a very very old soul (my lines run deep).She explained that because I'm a woman in this life, I have a lot of really good energy. That's because I'm trying to give birth to a new soul... or something. I was trying to overcome the drama of death by working to make something good, and there was a lot of positive energy surrounding me.
She said that I have a guardian... (totally hokey here!) who died of cancer. she actually used that on me. So funny! She told me not to be freaked out, and I probably freaked her out by how little freaked out I was (I really do believe that the spiritual presence of our dead do abide with us. Yep. deep spirituality here...).
She went on and on about how I have a hard time connecting with other people, especially girls because of a lot of jealous energy directed at me, and I relate better to men (because... well... I used to be one, I guess??), which... yeah.
She told me to stay in school. She talked about how I have had and will have many, many hurdles to overcome in meeting my goals, but that because of the depth of my commitments and the strength of my soul, I shouldn't have too much trouble, rather that I have the capacity of growing from my troubles. Okay, okay. I'm in.
She said my financial woes would soon end (!!!).
Then, my favorite part, she talked about my love life. This part was... awesome.
She said I was a person who was intended to marry in this life (!!), and that I would marry for love (!!!!)... but that I haven't met my soul mate yet, and that I won't for six years or so.
Yep.
Bummer.
But she said that I shouldn't worry about it because we will be happy. Well, all you crushes, say goodbye to this former-man-soul-lady.
It's not you.
Your loss.
Sorry, fellas.

And it's too bad too, because we are going to have TWINS!
They are really special spirits because they showed up... which is apparently a rare phenomenon in people. Sweet. Hardcore babies. (I'm terrified.)
Last, she told me to write down everything because I'm meant to be known for my writing and for what I do occupationally. She said that the things I think about are important to the world and to others. So, maybe I'll write more, okay?

Sometimes when I wake up...

2010-02-28T18:14:00.000-08:00

...this song is stuck in my head.

It's nice, but I would really like to know about how to get it out.

In other news, I realized today how much I don't know. I was getting a wee bit nervous about Europe... I don't really know why I let myself get so weird about things. I think it has something to do with my mom always trying to get me not to have expectations and telling me that having none was better than having mine crushed and un-met. I think she was right to a certain extent, but I find it to be incredibly difficult to move away from any expectation at all. I attempt to remove expectations and I find myself apathetic and disinterested. I hate the melancholic feeling I get from that move, so I keep my expectations and my sense of adventure high and intact.
So I was thinking about this (and avoiding my thesis which is... daunting at best) and I realized that I have no idea about so much of the cultures which I'll be visiting. I think I'm a pretty smart person, and when it comes right down to it, I adaptable and fun. But those things are SUPER relative to the culture inwhich you live, and I got a nervous about how much I don't know... I mean- I think i have a pretty good grasp on the culture of Flanders in the 17th century and Greece in 500 b.c., but I have no idea what Greece is like in the 21st, and Flanders no longer exists... What will I do with myself!? Anyways- I guess I need to expand myself. This is the value of travelling.
Also, I am focusing on being positive about other people. I think it's the better thing to do, and will probably be a sincere challenge for me. It's a bad habit that I've gotten myself into, and I am realizing how much effect it has. I need to stop promptly. I guess the things are all interconnected. As always.

Vincent Van Gough, Skull with a Burning Cigarette, 1886

Also!

2010-02-23T22:21:00.001-08:00

I've had a miracle. More on that later; I just needed to validate the existence of said miracle here so that I would remember to tell about it at a later date.

Why the world is falling apart:

2010-02-23T21:50:00.000-08:00

via

This semester was intended to be fun and enlightening. Instead it is basically shattering my worldview and challenging everything I've been socialized and raised to believe. I don't really know where I stand in relation to so so many things, and I feel like there's a whole lot of security that's being exposed and taken away from me... I guess it means I'm learning? Anyways, I feel like I don't have a philosophical and educational and theoretical home right now- I'm becoming a post structuralist snob that can't settle on anything.
I question everything.
I feel inadequate to write any sort of history because I want to explode traditional notion and I want to look at every *other* point of view...I watched a film about this woman, Angie Debo today:

She said something that melted my heart and inspired and intimidated me:
"Tell the truth so that other people can use it."

I liked that. I need to find the drive, the passion, the resolve and the grace Debo had. She's my new idol.

In completely unrelated news, how do you guys feel about setting people up/being set up?? Have you done it/ been victim to it?? What was it like? I need advice.

I do not understand many things

2010-02-10T22:33:00.000-08:00

I went to see this film the other night.

It broke my heart. I'm not entirely certain what I'm supposed to do with it now, but the potency with which it effected me leaves me feeling that I must do something. I don't understand things about much of the world- I don't understand how we can do such immense and cruel things to one another. I left this movie feeling absolutely sick to my stomach and entirely outraged.
I lived with an intense and beautiful, profound, intelligent and amazing Muslim-Mormon, Egyptian-by-way-of- Sweden woman less than a year ago (so many adjectives...). She moved me in many ways- challenging me to see the world from diverse ways and to understand particular beauties about the universe. I love and miss her spirit immensely. (I ramble.) I had distinct experiences with her in long and heated discussions about the recent Israel-Palestine conflict. She gave many speeches to local concerned individuals and organized a group, Provo for Palestine, whose mission was to show solidarity and support for West Bank Palestinians affected by the war(s) that have ravished their homeland for eons. I tried to show my support and love for her through joining and participating in this group. Despite my involvement , I left many meetings feeling empty, unfulfilled and inexplicably outraged. The stance and depth of the discussion were not nearly adequate; the scope of the dialogue fell short to encompass the immensity of the situation in the Middle East. I do not claim to understand all of the intricacies of Middle Eastern politics, but I am aware of the long term ramifications and continuously bloody ups and downs of that region of the world.
This film deepened my commitment to the complexity of war. It is never cut and dry. There are always entangling obstacles and complexities. I weep for the names in which wars are fought and sons and daughters are offered as sacrifices to the gods of nationalistic pride and greed (or whatever conspiracy theory you subscribe to today...).
I compare myself to Americans and Europeans who were embroiled in WWII and had no clue as to the atrocities being committed in their names in Nazi concentration camps. What is being done in MY name?
I do not fully understand the immensely deep racism and hatred that rises in the hearts of so many. The United States helped create the state of Israel in 1949. I am struggling to grasp the ramifications of this action. I am grovelling to allow the acts committed as vindication. I am inclined to consider the recentness (that's a word?) of this map:

and the immensity of the Sabra and Shatila massacre, which the film addresses.

I guess I am left to question the effects of the two wars in which we are currently embroiled. I am terrified at the fact that the war is romanticized and removed from our sanitary reality- I feel like most of us still view war as a fantastic fairy-tale (Pearl Harbor, anyone?) that is entirely removed from our lives. I'm left shocked and offended at the inane drivel of contemporary materialistic consumerism's commercialized fun so readily made of the terrors of war. Shame on us- may this stand as an indictment to our gullible belief in our own righteousness. I move that we have NO IDEA the evils that are funded by us and in whose name lives are utterly destroyed. What makes me more that a Palestinian woman, a Jewess sentenced to a Nazi concentration camp or a refugee in Darfur? My money? My skin color? My situation? Why the hell am I so lucky?
I am grateful for films like this one that courageously take on the challenges inherent with such a weighty topic.
I can't recommend this film to just anyone. I think it is poignant and incredible and utterly worth the time you might invest, but be prepared to be moved and challenged. Be prepared to challenge just how much you understand.

CONSTANT Procrasination

2010-01-28T17:43:00.000-08:00

In honor of the title of this post, I'd like the internets (that's YOU!) to be aware that I have not done ANY homework this semester. That's right. ZERO. All of the reading I've done thus far is purely for pleasure. I feel great and a twinge sicky about it... I mean... maybe it's just burnout, but I maybe should get busy. I have to:
-write my thesis (which so far is AWFUL... i mean AWFUL, AWFUL).
-decide what to write about re: the Northern Baroque (tossing around ideas about costume in paintings like this one - [yes the girl's face IS creepy] or this one... just thinking.)
-do ANYTHING for my other three classes. I have no idea where to start. Maybe the syllabi.

This is great, considering that I MUST do well this semester in order to get into grad school. Read that MUST... meaning no fudging it this year. It's mandatory quality this time. I have to get busy. But first, I have to throw a birthday party and clean my room.

I want to see this:

2010-01-12T11:11:00.000-08:00

http://www.imdb.com/video/imdb/vi2049508121/

and maybe buy it too...

Samson + Delilah

2010-01-11T19:31:00.000-08:00

(this first video is... pg-13.) just be forewarned, and try to go with it. The song is beautiful.
(the second video is... amazing.) Also, just go with it.

Thanks, Rubens.

This is funny

2010-01-11T18:52:00.001-08:00

I don't care what you snooty art history kids say- The Merode Altarpiece is hilarious.

I'll prove it to you.

Beginning with the left panel, we see the donors of the work. Apparently coming home from a stroll in 12 degree weather, the couple has opened their front door to the sight of the annunciation occurring in their living room. They've stumbled and fallen at the sight.

From there, we should go behind the couple, where we will encounter the creepiest guy in all of art historical lore:

That's right, ladies and gents: Boo Radley (OR the prophet Isaiah... whatever) apparently hangs out in Flemish gardens AND behind doors in homes in the deep South. (what a creep.)

Next we move to the central panel, where we spot many hilarious things. The most obvious and awesome of which, is the baby Jesus flying through the closed window on a ray of light.

Cute. Hilarious.

Then we see the suicidally worshipful candle, who has self-extinguished at the thought of the mention of Christ's name (and immaculate appearance through the window.)

VS.

Lastly we have to ask ourselves: Why was Joseph so much older and more Mediterranean looking than his supposedly 12 year old, Northern European bride? Does this creep you out at all? I would probably feel uncomfortable hanging out with this couple. Just sayin.

Adventuretime 2010

2010-01-08T13:02:00.000-08:00

This will be a dedication piece combined with confessional. Get ready.
In my last post, I promised to write more about my darling baby bro. Well here it is. This is dedicated to him.

Last night I called him after my film meeting. He told me he was headed to the Utah Symphony. I figured he was going with some friends who are taking a music class with him, but no... It turns out he was going alone, because he thought it was awesome. He was right. I have a secret love/admiration/ appreciation/ jealousy of people who are brazen enough to adamantly do things by themselves. I do my own thing a lot, but it seems like there's always some safety in numbers behind a lot of my activities, and I always seems to be able to find someone interested in whatever I'm doing. Maybe I'm too mainstream, boring, or not committed enough to my own self. These feelings about perfectly content lone wolves leads me to a deep seated desire to accompany them on EVERYTHING they do.
So I went and bought a ticket, and after a little finagling, I got a seat right next to him.

It was fantastic to say the least. The program was a beautiful rendition of two early (and underperformed in the long run) Beethoven pieces and an hour long Rachmaninoff. I was beside myself when the Rachmaninoff began, and for the subsequent hour of delight.
Confessional time. I secretly form inappropriate bonds and relationships with the unwitting performers on occasions such as this. I spent a lot of time imagining what the bald first chair violinist was like as a kid, and why the rotund tympani decided to get into percussion as a professional choice. I had a whole thing going with the Asian violist having secret rendezvous with the dashing bass clarinetist who was a guest at this performance. I know that it's inappropriate to imagine hanging out with the entire orchestra on a casual level, but I really can't help but wonder if the shockingly white haired granny makes delicious soup and knits.

So, thank you, baby bro. It was an excellent evening by any measure.

Afterward, I went over to my friend Joey's place and made preliminary plans and decisions for an upcoming project. Be ready to have your minds blown outta your heads (By which I mean, it's gonna [I can barely believe that 'gonna' is a real word...] be really good).

some thoughts to start the year off

2010-01-02T13:31:00.000-08:00

First, a disclaimer: these are totally unedited, random thoughts. Since this post will not be a cohesive argument, I'll bullet things out for you, so as not to get things fuddled. Also, it might be kinda long. Sorry. Kinda. No- I take that back. Not sorry... you don't have to read this all. :)

I love all the 'best of the decade' playlists currently running on the radio. since the CD player in my car doesn't work, I'm left entirely to the whim of the local djs. Fortunately for me, there is one singular saving grace in the state of Utah as far as radio broadcasting goes. Basically, their playlist for the past week has been my entire ipod sans a few country secret indulgences and some oldies I can't let go of. So, no complaints there. Excellent. Thank you, independent, local, PERFECT radio. I'll miss you if I ever leave the state.
I have no idea what I am doing with my life. I've pushed graduation back an entire year to allow myself a little semblance of extra time. I hope that it helps and I don't get lost in the mire of day-to-day again. I hate that, and I am working on focusing on long term. If i were to say I had any, that would be my new year's resolution. Think long term, act short term. I've started that goal by editing and re-editing my class load for the coming semester, and quit Job 1. Next step: go to class.
I love my house so much. Courtney just moved in, and Meghan is on her way. Our house is already crazy and it seems like everyone and their dog (sometimes literally) come here. ALL THE TIME. (more on that later...) this coming semester is going to be even more socially full, because these ladies, in addition to the ones that already inhabit, come with an entourage. I'm sure we'll be seeing some of you around much more.

via

Christmas was hard, expectedly so. I am grateful to my cousins and my brother for being such excellent support. I need to do some sort of dedication to my baby brother sometime soon. You'd love him if you met him. Promise.

More to come soon...

GAH!!!

2009-12-16T01:27:00.000-08:00

Edward Munch created this work exactly 100 years before I was born (1885). He made it shortly after turning in his dissertation. It must've been a premonition...

school is killing me, I'm pretty certain of it. I will exhibit this fact in three key points.

1. It is currently 2:47 am. I took a "nap" from the hours of 8:30 pm and 1:00 am. Read: NOT HEALTHY.
2.I have a 10.ish page paper due on Thursday morning at 7 am. I currently have 4 words written for it.
3. My cuisine for the day consisted of:
-approximately 70 oz. of Coke Classic
-6.5 oz White Cheddar Cheese Nips
-some breakfast thing that I can't remember right now, but was probably not healthy
-Half a loaf of $.95 loaf of bread. Might have been stale even though I bought it today.

**someone please remind me why I'm here and what I'm doing with my life!? PLEASE!?!?!**

The things I've loved

2009-11-28T10:54:00.000-08:00

There's a song by Jenny Lewis that talks about the things that we love being more important than the things that love us back.

It kind of describes my feelings about coming home for Thanksgiving this year, and most holiday family-togetherness time. There have been some hard moments and some really really retarded, irritating ones. I've been super frustrated and annoyed and overtly delighted too. It's been a whir- nothing unexpected there, I guess.

Anyways. I've been working on this little project of focusing on the good things that happened. I've been communicating these things to a few friends of mine via text. I've decided to share them with you. I don't usually indulge in lists, but these things are worth writing about, and probably best communicated in list format. They are in no particular order.
This isn't going to be a traditional list of holiday things, but they are the things that really meant a lot to me over this break from school. There will be no mention of turkey and stuffing your face til you can't breathe- those things are never as good as the events that surround them anyways. My family is a little on the dysfunctional side of things right now. It's hard, but I think it's a good time to reflect on the things I have to be grateful about.

1. Beach Hair. The kind when the day is sunny and perfect, and you just get the tips wet because you were splashing in the waves, and some drops surprised you. And then the ocean breathes its salty air through the locks and you get the PERFECT texture. Then you leave and the air is humid and simultaneously beautifully dry. The best hair day ever.

2. Roller coasters. On the beach. This one in particular. I know it sounds silly to pay six dollars for one minute and 45 seconds of bliss, but it was worth every penny. Maybe it's because it was with my mom. Maybe it's just because of my deep-seated love for anything fast and dangerous. Maybe it was the contrast of the 75 and sunshine to the 35 and clouds from the previous day. Regardless, it was good.

3. A faithful dog who still remembers me from 4.5 years ago and intermittent, sporadic visits.

4. ANY family tradition that involves this, which ours did this year.

5. The ocean. The great Pacific.

6. The fact that my mom's new place is kinda nice, and it smells like her.

7. High school best friends who just want to talk over a cup of hot liquid in a cozy, cool little coffeeshop in the city. Perfect.

8. Breakfast with my dad.

9. Too-long discussions about post-apocalyptic survival tactics and people watching.

10. Parties with drunken old Mexican men.

11. Staying up til 4:30 am talking to my sister.

12. Evaporation pools and tall piles of salt and minerals.

13. Driving like you are from a city, and knowing that other drivers feel the same way. They're fast, concise, decisive, and kind in a nonchalant, realistic and efficient sort of way. And they seem to understand that the passing lane is for a.passing, or b. going faster than the rest of the cars. The camaraderie of the road is built in the city.

14. Free oil changes.

There were other good things too... Maybe I'll talk more about them when I can get my brain wrapped around them.

Hi, awesome opportunity.

2009-11-18T17:34:00.000-08:00

I got accepted to the BYU Art History Study Abroad 2010. I am the most excited I've ever been. Ever.

My itinerary:

Greece

Italy

Austria

the United Kingdom

the Netherlands

Belgium

and France.

In other news, This woman is my hero. I love the things she says. She sort of set up the stage for a lot of the things that I believe in and study. You should watch her and listen to her speak. She like 85 years old. Kind of amazing. She is credited with setting much of the foundation for feminist art history. I hope it works. I love you.

Maybe I Already Said This...

2009-10-22T11:49:00.000-07:00

...but this website is amazing. It's people watching-us maximus. Heavens. I could spend so many hours comparing and contrasting different years. Seriously. So. Great.

From the "about" section of the site:

Rotterdam-based photographer Ari Versluis and profiler Ellie Uyttenbroek have worked together since October 1994. Inspired by a shared interest in the striking dress codes of various social groups, they have systematically documented numerous identities over the last 14 years. Rotterdam's heterogeneous, multicultural street scene remains a major source of inspiration for Ari Versluis and Ellie Uyttenbroek, although since 1998 they have also worked in cities abroad.
They call their series Exactitudes: a contraction of exact and attitude. By registering their subjects in an identical framework, with similar poses and a strictly observed dress code, Versluis and Uyttenbroek provide an almost scientific, anthropological record of people's attempts to distinguish themselves from others by assuming a group identity. The apparent contradiction between individuality and uniformity is, however, taken to such extremes in their arresting objective-looking photographic viewpoint and stylistic analysis that the artistic aspect clearly dominates the purely documentary element.
-
Wim van Sinderen, Senior Curator Museum of Photography, The Hague

Go ahead and love it.

It's Hard

2009-10-17T00:44:00.000-07:00

I just saw Where the Wild Things Are. I cried. Some of the things in it were a little too raw for me, and they cut. It's hard to be a family.

The Summer's Results

2009-10-13T13:17:00.001-07:00

Hi. This is the project I worked on over the summer. I am super pumped. It opens on 22 October, so if you find yourself in Provo, come to the opening!
And this guy is the artist I found and brought to the table. I'm excited that he got into the show. Come see what he does!

2009-10-13T12:57:00.000-07:00

We're working on it. Thanks to Kayte, we have pickles curing under our sink. They're pretty.
I don't know if we'll survive the winter eating only homemade pickles, but we'll sure try.

What's Shakin', Mama?

2009-10-01T13:40:00.001-07:00

This is what I do now:

OH! and I almost forgot:

No Longer an Issue

2009-07-14T13:10:00.001-07:00

I got an additional job for fall semester. I am excited. I will be a TA for the Art History Department of BYU. Dream Job number 2. Check.

Such and stuff

2009-05-07T09:41:00.000-07:00

It's been a long time. Sorry. I have been busy with finals wrapping up, and upping my hours at work. I'm giving myself two days off (being yesterday and today). I figured I ought to put something up here as a means of update and/or proof of the fact that I am alive still.

I am alive still.

That being said, I'd like to report that I made a 3.7 GPA this semester- my best semester ever. I don't know why... in fact, it seems counter intuitive if you understand all the baggage I've been carrying with me this semester. I am really happy about it, and I feel really empowered that I was able to come off so well. I feel strong and good for my efforts, and happy that my time was well spent.

I have good hopes for the summer.

My mom's coming into town in two weeks. She is wonderful.

I will admit that I am a little bit anxious about it- nervous about having to deal in great depth with our family issues, and feeling forced to take a hard look at myself as a part of that- see how things are effecting me. Mom's good at pointing those things out to me, and it can be really alarming and distressing at times. Overall, though, I hope that we will be able to have a good time and have some good catch-up. I am excited to take her to the Mona Lavender Farm because it's so beautiful and summery good there. I have always associated the smell of lavender with my mom, this excursion seems so natural. I am also (a little bit ashamed to admit) excited that she might be able to buy me some new shoes...

I have always had this problem of running my shoes into the ground. I distinctly remember in third grade, having to get shoes three times during the school year because I had walked holes into their soles, and fully ripped the sole off one pair. I am hard on shoes. My ma told me we could get some new ones when she's here. Thank heavens.

In other news, I wanted to update you on an artist that I have become an ardent fan of in the last few weeks. I think I'll try to inform you of some great contemporary artists every so often- It's what I study all the time- I may as well regurgitate that info for you!

So firstly, by way of background, I have to tell you that I am a growing fan of Jazz. I have really gotten the spirit of the Jazz of the mid- century genius. On a recent vacation to San Fransisco a few weeks back, I had a great education on the history and formal qualities of the music genre by my good friend Jamie.

She talked me into buying my first (of hopefully a long tradition) Dexter Gordon album. I also bought The Anatomy of Improvisation, a collaborative effort of impresario Jazz artists.

That being the background to my interest, I'd like to introduce you to San Fransisco based artist, Ian Johnson.

His work is beautiful- mostly images of Jazz musicians. I like what he says about exploring the "spontaneous nature of jazz music and the physical structure of the human form." (In BIO on website...) I guess I'm so impressed because I've been listening to a lot of Thelonius Monk and Dizzee Gilespie, Chalie Parker, Art Tatum, and of course Miles Davis in the past month. My roommates are probably annoyed, or just plain confused. Nevertheless, Johnson is intriguing, and his works are beautiful. This one is currently my desktop background. You should check him out here.

Hopefully this will be a more healthy summer for blogging. A lot of my closest friends are taking off for the summer- I should fing myself with rather abundant time to maintan a strong bogging habit- so stay psoted.