Le chant des oiseaux d'un monde oublié

It was sunny and I had nowhere to be.

2011-12-30T13:53:00.000-08:00

Something that has stood out to me when I've learned about artists is how they start out mimicking other artists' styles (or the prevailing style of the day) before they finally find their own paint-equivalent-of-a-voice. (This reminds me of the sentiment that "good artists borrow, great artists steal"[for which I haven't found a reliable attribution]. It seems that every artist has to steal from another to start out.)

I introduced you before to Emily Martin, also known as The Black Apple, and her marvelous art. I've tried painting girls' portraits of my own (girls' faces have been a primary subject for doodling over the years), but I've realized that if I want to eventually sell my art and become an established artist, how can I sell a product that someone else creates better? Perhaps it would be cheaper, but it would be a knock-off. My goal right now is to continue imitating other artists (including ones I find on the magical internet) with my own personal twists until I find a unique style of my own. To do that, I have to just keep practicing and copying and practicing and copying and starting over and painting over other pictures.

This whole subject also reminds me of this thought, which apparently Ira Glass said (I am highly suspicious of internet attributions):

“What nobody tells people who are beginners — and I really wish someone had told this to me . . . is that all of us who do creative work, we get into it because we have good taste. But there is this gap. For the first couple years you make stuff, and it’s just not that good. It’s trying to be good, it has potential, but it’s not. But your taste, the thing that got you into the game, is still killer. And your taste is why your work disappoints you. A lot of people never get past this phase. They quit. Most people I know who do interesting, creative work went through years of this. We know our work doesn’t have this special thing that we want it to have. We all go through this. And if you are just starting out or you are still in this phase, you gotta know it’s normal and the most important thing you can do is do a lot of work. Put yourself on a deadline so that every week you will finish one story. It is only by going through a volume of work that you will close that gap, and your work will be as good as your ambitions. And I took longer to figure out how to do this than anyone I’ve ever met. It’s gonna take awhile. It’s normal to take awhile. You’ve just gotta fight your way through.”

Whoever said it, I like it, and I agree. There is also this picture, which I am posting even though it says 'your' instead of 'you're' and gratuitously ends a sentence with 'at':

I've realized that a pretty cool way to make a living would be to sell handmade things on etsy, as some select highly talented and successful people have done—I would get to do something I enjoy and would do anyway and make money from it! (Tacked on sentence that is sort of related: Another possibly enjoyable way to make a living for me would be in a currently expanding teaching niche: Teaching foreign language(s) in immersion classrooms.)

Now I lay me down to sleep

2011-12-19T16:27:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I made two (two!) pillow covers from this pattern, and I now present them to you:


I worried about putting this disclaimer, but yes, it's supposed to look messy.

Detail of the umbrella girl.

Also, a recent painting.

I was trapped in a refrigerator

2011-12-19T15:19:00.000-08:00

I decided to go back to ~~random~~ whimsical titles for posts.

I've also decided to sell some of the crafty things I've made recently; some I made with the purpose of selling, and some I made just for fun. It's difficult for me to make things to sell, because then I get extra sensitive about all of the imperfections, anticipating someone getting disappointed when s/he receives the finished product.

I am proud to present some of the things I made here. Feel free to contact me if you have any questions, want more information, or would like to purchase anything. You can see all of the items here.

Penelope and Oliver owl, $5 and $3 or $7 for both

Fawns, $4

Reginald the fox, $5

Swans, $4

Cupcake, $3

Vive la Reine!

2011-12-08T18:45:00.000-08:00

A concession to my last post:

Whilst playing chess, I realized that even though it is the king that has to be protected, around which the game centers, the queen is the most powerful piece in the game. You could argue that the queen does all the work while the king mainly sits there, and when he does move it's just one space. In other words, the king seems weak and the queen seems strong.

Am I reading too much into this? I just feel that subtle sexism can be subconsciously be absorbed by simple means (like solitaire).

Sexism

2011-12-06T00:21:00.000-08:00

There are subtle and not-so-subtle ways sexism is woven into our culture. Here are just a few examples I've come across recently.

A woman solved a Wheel of Fortune puzzle knowing only one letter. In the second-highest viewed video of the moment, the highest-rated comment is "someone slept with the host."

In a similar video, this time featuring a man who solved a puzzle knowing only two letters, there is absolutely no mention of any sexual misconduct—the two highest-rated comments are references to The Karate Kid and Scooby-Doo (the latter being the theme of the puzzle).

In another video, a man on Jeopardy! wins two Daily Doubles in a row (and on the second one he bets everything); again, quite surprisingly there is no hint at all of sexual misconduct.

I've been playing solitaire a lot lately, and I can't help but often notice how, of course, the king is the highest card and the queen is the second highest. A king is the also only card that can begin a new row of cards in an empty space.

That's it. Short and sweet.

Depression

2011-10-30T17:09:00.000-07:00

I just joined pinterest which, for the uninitiated, is like a virtual bulletin board where you pin pictures, usually that link to tips, tutorials, products, etc. One of the boards I have is for text, and one of the pins I have says, "Yes, I have depression. No, I can't get over it." You can "repin" things you see on other people's boards, and it notifies the original pinner. Most of mine never get repinned, and those that do usually average about 2 or 3 repins. But this one has been repinned 50 times (and counting). I just think that that's quite meaningful—it obviously has struck a chord with a good many people.

Singing fingers

2011-10-13T23:58:00.000-07:00

There is a beautiful song (really, one of many beautiful songs) in the French film Les Choristes called "La Nuit" ("The Night") which I love. I was looking on youtube for a version of the song with the lyrics displayed. I found a highly-viewed one, but it contained some errors. My favorite error was their assertion that the line was "Si doux est le concert de tes doigts chantant l'espérance," which means, "So soft is the concert of your fingers singing hope." The real line is "So soft is the concert of your voices singing hope." The word for fingers, 'doigts,' sounds like "dwah" and the word for voices, 'voix' sounds like "vwah," so they are easily confused aurally. But I don't know why someone would think that the line was about singing fingers.

2011-10-10T21:23:00.000-07:00

In my last post, I mentioned a hat that I admired. This hat was worn by a fictional girl painted in a picture, and I intended to make one myself. It has been completed!

Ta da!

In case you're wondering, I got the pattern for the hat here and the one for the ears here; both of them are modified just a little bit.

Why so blue?

2011-09-26T17:17:00.000-07:00

I am currently enchanted with a piece of art by an artist named Ashley over at Shana Logic. This is part of the picture:

I love this girl's hat! I would like to replicate it! I've been searching for crochet patterns for owl hats with a plan to just omit the eyes and beak (but keep the little ears). Cat, or other creature, hats might work too! When I end up finishing the hat, I'll post it here.

30 songs #17-26

2011-09-25T02:13:00.000-07:00

17. A song that you hear often on the radio:
"Rope" by the Foo Fighters. Self explanatory.

18. A song that you wish you heard on the radio:
The song "Shake Me Down" by Cage the Elephant was apparently one of the most requested and played songs on the radio station I would listen to, but it would never come on when I was listening. Sometimes I'd hear the last little bit of it.

19. A song from your favorite album:
It's so difficult to pick my favorite album. I would probably say that it's With the Beatles, mainly because it was the first full Beatles album I listened to, and it reminds me of a certain period of my life. A song from it is "It Won't Be Long."

20. A song that you listen to when you're angry:

I do listen to this when I'm happy, too. "Little Lion Man" by Mumford and Sons. Warning for language.

21. A song that you listen to when you're happy:
For some reason, when I'm happy I will sometimes listen to emotional songs. This is possibly because when I'm sad, it's too much to hear a sad song. There are a couple from the Little Women soundtrack that I would listen to. One of them is "The Fire Within Me."

22. A song that you listen to when you're sad:

"Sleep Well" by Lydia. I also listen to this when I'm not sad. Warning for language.

23. A song that you want to play at your wedding:

I choose "My Best Friend" by Weezer because it's how I'd have to feel about someone to marry him.

24. A song that you want to play at your funeral:
A song that we practiced, but never performed, in choir at high school was the poem "In Remembrance" set to music. It is arranged by Eleanor Daley, and I love it so much. Here is the text.

25. A song that makes you laugh:

"The Spectrum Song" by Paul Frees. This is from a Ludwig Von Drake cartoon, and the part at the end when he says, "What's going on with all the colors?!" and when he spouts off his gibberish in between verses especially make me laugh. I also think of my hilarious friend Anna, who introduced me to this song, dancing to it. We also included it in a video we made for a history class about an asylum.

26. A song that you can play on an instrument:

"Hey Jude" is one of the songs that I can play on the piano.

27. A song that you wish you could play:

I wish that I could play "If You Want to Sing Out, Sing Out" by Cat Stevens on the guitar...or the banjo!

30 songs-#11-16

2011-09-23T23:58:00.000-07:00

A continuation of the 30-song challenge. This time I'm including links to the songs on youtube for your convenience.

11. A song from your favorite band:
"Mother Nature's Son" by the Beatles. This is a lesser-known song off of the White Album (aka The Beatles) which I really love. This is also a song that, I realized in retrospect, reminds me of a place: the peaceful LA County Arboretum.

12. A song from a band you hate:
I don't know if I hate any band. I think that most bands have some artistic merit and that all performers should be recognized for what talent they have and the courage it takes to perform music in public. That being said, I seem to not like recent stuff by Bon Jovi (although I do really like "Living on a Prayer"; I discovered this because several songs are piped in at work. "Superman Tonight" by Bon Jovi is one of my least favorite songs to hear. If you like this song or Bon Jovi, I have absolutely nothing against you and still believe you are a good person.

13. A song that is a guilty pleasure:
Picking a "guilty pleasure" song is tough because what if someone else likes that song? Even though it is a good quality to not want to hurt people's feelings, maybe I'm a bit too hesitant to express my opinion for fear that it might offend someone. I'll pick "Bouncing Off the Ceiling" by the A*teens. It's very bubblegum pop; that's why I label it as a guilty pleasure.

14. A song that no one would expect you to love:
"You're Gonna Go Far Kid" by the Offspring. I think people would not guess this partly because it has a curse word in it and I used to be über sensitive about swearing. The version I linked to is a clean version.

15. A song that describes you:
This was a difficult one. I finally decided on "Last of the American Girls" by Green Day. Some examples of why this describes me: I am fascinated by the post-apocalyptic genre, which is my way of wearing an overcoat for "the coming of the nuclear winter." There are times when I feel incredibly guilty about what I have and others do not, for which taking a hunger strike for those who won't make it for dinner can be a metaphor. Also, I am a good model of what I think an "American girl" is—I don't mean a gun-toting jingo but a person who is independent and eclectic.

16. I don't know if I hate any song I used to love (I try not to go to extremes). But in middle school I did use to like Britney Spears' cover of "Satisfaction" (before I'd heard the Rolling Stones version), and now I think it's ridiculous compared to the original.

As Joseph McCarthy would say...

2011-09-23T00:18:00.000-07:00

Names!

What should I call this blog?

Before it was "Le chant des oiseaux d'un monde oublié," [birdsong of a forgotten world] then just "un monde oublié" [a forgotten world], and now "A Parliament of Owls." I liked the first name, but I wanted a change, and I thought that maybe the non French speakers felt left out (and the title would be unpronounceable). I chose "A Parliament of Owls" because when I started this blog, I made the URL "catsandowlsblog" but then never did anything with that name; I decided to at least incorporate owls, and ever since I found out at the zoo what a group of owls was called, I've found it lovely and quirky. However, I still don't think it fits.

I really like the first title (it's French, it's from a song I like, it's charming, I love the idea of a parallel world that's even better), but I would love a new, even more appropriate one.

Should I even change the URL? Or would that make it too difficult for followers?

What do you think? Any ideas? Just throw 'em out there, even if you don't think it's good! I very well may think it is. What do you think describes this blog?

Unicorns and Ghosts

2011-09-02T18:52:00.000-07:00

I was watching documentary on hauntings, which featured an interview with a paranormal investigator who was relaxing at home in front of a cheerful fire. He was also in front of something else that caught my eye:

I don't think the prancing ceramic unicorn is helping your credibility, buddy.

Some compassion, please.

2011-09-02T18:41:00.000-07:00

One of the behaviors that bothers me the most is the habit to rush into telling someone how to solve his or her problem before trying to fully understanding it. If you think about it, this isn't even useful because the proposed solution will not fit the problem if the problem is not understood.

It's more valuable to me to have someone sympathize with me than to have him or her solve my problem, which may not even be solvable without time. Many problems can't be solved right away, and some depend on other people's actions to be solved.

This is not to say that I never want advice. Oh ho no! I do, I do. It's just that advice without sympathy can be a little distressing.

Luckily, I don't often experience people who act like this; most of the people I know are not like that. However, once in awhile I will run into someone whose actions are the opposite of compassion. It really disturbs and hurts me to talk to these people.

I had a recent experience where I tried to communicate how much of a difficult time I was having to an acquaintance, who was in the position to help (or at least comfort/reassure) me. There was no acknowledgment of the trouble I was in, and the advice seemed to minimize the pain and situation.

Please do not read this and think that if ever I come to you with a problem, you have to explicitly state that you are sympathetic. I know that you are already. It's just the people on the outskirts of my circle of friends/acquaintances who sometimes distress me. Has anyone else run into this?

I = nerd

2011-08-20T22:03:00.000-07:00

The books strewn around my bedside:

The Turn of the Screw and Other Stories
Wheelock's Latin
Howl and Other Poems
Larousse German-English pocket dictionary
How to Read Literature Like A Professor
Sound and Sense
Leaves of Grass
Allure magazine

Proof

2011-07-21T18:51:00.000-07:00

Does each person have a soul? Does Satan exist? I don't know.

The biggest proof to me that we have souls: The feeling I get when I read poetry.

The biggest proof to me that Satan exists: Women's self-hatred and body issues.

30 songs-#1-10

2011-07-15T16:15:00.000-07:00

There is a 30-day song challenge on facebook. Instead of participating there, I will list the songs here. Also, I am doing them ten at a time instead of posting once a day for 30 days; hopefully this will also get me in the habit of posting more often. The whole list can be found here.

I don't consider myself a music snob and will admit that there are many songs that I like that aren't particularly sophisticated and could be considered pure bubblegum pop. I'm learning to not care about that! Music really helps me, and I like what I like. I like catchy hooks and (sometimes) cheesy lyrics. So there! I own it!

1. Your favorite song [at work]:

Do I have a favorite song? I really can't decide! I don't have a definitive favorite song, so I've altered this to be my favorite song at work. Those piped-in songs that I hear over and over again I would classify as "easy listening/adult contemporary" and aren't the kind of songs I usually listen to. My favorite of the bunch is called "It's Amazing" by Jem. I like the piano at the beginning, the over-all message of the song—which seems to be timely for me—and the electronically-altered vocals on the bridge.

2. Your least favorite song:

I don't think I have a least favorite song either. It would probably be one of those violent/misogynistic rap songs that apparently exist, but I don't listen to them, so I couldn't name one. One that makes me change the station every time I hear it on the radio is "Love Hurts" by Incubus. It just really bothers me for reasons I can't put my finger on. I'm listening to it now to figure out why I dislike it so much. The intro is good, but something about the words and the singer's voice bother me. I think the words bother me because, while I believe in looking at things positively, I don't like it when people dismiss emotional pain, and this song seems to do that a little. I can't quite explain it fully.

3. A song that makes you happy:

That would be "I Think I See the Light" by Cat Stevens. I like it because of its placement in my favorite movie, Harold and Maude and because of its story of love illuminating life. It is my ringtone for phone calls.

4. A song that makes you sad:

Interestingly, another one by Cat Stevens: "Trouble." Also interesting is that this song, the one that makes me sad, comes right after the one that makes me happy on the album Mona Bone Jakon. It's quite a jarring change of tone to me.

5. A song that reminds you of someone:

"I Didn't Understand" by Elliott Smith reminds me of my friend Natalie, who introduced me to Elliott Smith (among many other musicians).

6. A song that reminds you of somewhere:

"All the Days" by FM Static reminds me of my 9th-grade Health classroom. It was first period, and we watched part of the video yearbook at the end of the year. The opening featured this song.

7. A song that reminds you of a certain event:

"Where Is the Love?" by the Black Eyed Peas reminds me of my 14th birthday party because some of my friends started singing it.

8. A song that you know all the words to:

Although, because of my good memory, I know the words to many songs, I can proudly say that I know all of the words to "American Pie" by Don McLean, which is more than eight minutes long and has six verses. I like it a lot!

9. A song that you can dance to:

It's about time the Beatles, my favorite band, showed up on this list! "Happy Birthday" is a rockin' song to dance to. I danced to it on my birthday.

10. A song that makes you fall asleep:

"Good Night" by the Beatles. Another Beatles one! I think making you fall asleep is part of what the song aims for, as evidenced by the title. Or maybe it has some super secret conspiratorial meaning that I'm just missing. I've never listened to it backwards....

Philanthropy's for you and me!

2011-06-14T13:27:00.000-07:00

I have owned a pair of Toms shoes, and I liked them very much. Part of what I liked about them was what some would call their gimmick: They donate a pair of shoes to children in need for every pair you buy. So part of the cost is for paying for the extra pair of shoes and the fees required to deliver them. I definitely approve.

Recently I saw Skecher's new "Bobs" shoes, which resemble Toms; they also give away a pair of shoes for each pair purchased. Then I saw Airwalk's new "Hope" shoe which also resembles Toms and also gives away a pair of shoes (I swear that the first time I saw them, they were actually giving away two pairs [maybe it was for a limited time?] and I thought, "Oh, snap!"). Do these copy-cats really have good intentions? Or are they cashing in on the success of Toms? To me, the fact that kids are getting free shoes is more important than the reason for these companies' philanthropy. Even if it is a marketing ploy, good is coming of it.

And you're welcome for all the free advertizing, shoe companies.

Movin' on up

2011-06-14T13:03:00.000-07:00

Last Fall I created a blog called Lux et Veritas for a class about teaching with technology. Since I am no longer in that class, I decided to delete the blog. However, I did import some of the posts to this blog. If you'd like to read them, they are all labeled "education."

Floats that thought 'round my head

2011-05-26T16:57:00.000-07:00

Why do both 'red' and 'dead' and also 'sweet' and 'feet' rhyme in both German and English? Is there some hidden connection between these words?

Some recent creations

2011-05-15T20:53:00.000-07:00

Here are some recent creations on which I have been working:

An owl. I made the pattern and it's 100% hand-sewn.

A close-up of the wing:

Here are some paintings done with a technique I learned from dear Catherine—freezer-paper stencils. I have made two shirts with the technique, and I decided to try it with canvas and acrylic paint. Please excuse the picture quality.

This one is also made with scrap-book paper:

"Orange-colored Sky/Fly away"

Yay!

Oh my Ford

2011-05-07T16:23:00.000-07:00

I just stumbled upon this print by Art and Ghosts, and I find it exquisite:

It has so many wonderful things: bandit masks, black-and-white striped tights (I have some!), playing cards, skeleton-key necklaces (I have some of those, too), bandit masks, a fox, lovely dresses, etc. etc. etc.

Thank you, internet, for letting awesome artists display their work.

Incredible

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

When you stop and think about it, that each person is living is incredible. Someone had to carry that person for nine months, then give him or her birth; that is a lot of work. Each person you interact with has a mother who did that for him or her.

can't hurry love

2011-04-10T13:50:00.000-07:00

I've talked before about my refusal to buy things that I could make myself. There is an item that I was actually considering buying, but I ended up making my own version. Some would call it horrendously cheap and tacky, but I think it's beautiful—and that's what matters.

Here is the original item:

And here is my reproduction:

My version is inspired by the original; that means it has the feeling, not the exact image. Yes, it's on the back of a cake-mix box, and yes it's small, but I love it. I notice that I tend to critique myself as a way to do it before others can. Instead of just displaying the work, I have to give the disclaimer that I realize that some people would think it looks awful. I guess I do this because it's my response to the many websites out there that put people's stuff on display to mock, e.g. outfits and etsy products.

I can see that there's a difference between the etsy products and my work: the people selling the products are expecting people to want to buy them for their listed amount, while I made mine just for me. And I realize that it's really inexpensive and shouldn't be sold for very much (if I decided to sell it). It suits my needs, but I understand other people may not like it.

The reason I liked the original product, other than the gorgeous artwork, was the sentiment: Love who you are. You can interpret this as "love how you are," i.e., all of your unique interests, quirks, characteristics, etc. The reason I like it is that I interpret it as "Love who you are right now." You don't need to say that you'll love yourself when you've done _______ or gone _______ or finally ______—in short, when you've changed something about you. Love who you are, faults and all; because you're still a worthwhile person. And faults aren't bad.

Un monde oublié

2011-04-09T11:02:00.000-07:00

I just discovered Emily Martin's website/work/world. I feel like we are kindred spirits in our similar tastes in vintage clothing, ephemera, etc., carnivals, Alice in Wonderland, portraits, and general old-timey stuff. I feel like she creates a new world where time periods are mixed up. It's jolly to find someone else who seems to exist in the same world that you do. In other words, the world she creates (and the kind of world I love) doesn't exist. Ugh, that sounds so depressing.

I've talked before about surrealism being an unfulfilled longing, and how retro objects themselves wouldn't be as fun if you lived in the time period in which they were used. But that's OK! If I lived in a time when type writers were en vogue, I would find something older to use. (By the way, I just got a typewriter at DI; it is very, very awesome.)

I guess what's a little depressing about this world I've created in my head is that it's a little gloomy: Portraits aren't smiling. People look wistful. I love this painting by Ms. Martin, but as you can see, the colors are muted and the girl is not exactly smiling (but look at the dress! And the plants! And the haircut!):

©the black apple

I'm going to re-imagine it so that people are laughing their guts out and smiling like there's a light bulb in their mouths. They're going to be having fun at the fair, grinning while holding balloons. I'm going to imagine it more like this:


©the black apple

Waterhouse mermaid remix

2011-04-06T21:03:00.000-07:00

beaverboard and India ink

2011-04-06T20:10:00.000-07:00

Two years ago when I was going through a crisis I read Franny and Zooey by J.D. Salinger. It is about, among other things, the super-smart and unique Glass family, specifically Franny, who is going through a spiritual/mental breakdown and her brother Zooey, who is trying to help her.

One minor scene involves the old room of two of the oldest Glass kids, where they covered the back of the door with a large white board inscribed with tons of philosophical quotes. The book lists some of them, which I like. I liked this so much that two years ago I started my own little philosophical board with some butcher paper and a sharpie instead of beaverboard and India ink (I subsequently misplaced this paper in the confusion of packing up; I'm going to start another one now). Some of the first quotes I put on the paper were some listed on the board in the book.

I just today finished reading the book again (and I bought my own copy at the bookstore with a 20% off coupon). I agree with the sentiment that good books change and are just as poignant and true no matter when or in what state you read them. What stood out to me last time reading the book is not the same as what stood out to me this time (and what stood out to me this time is stuff I completely forgot was in the book), including the philosophical quotes. The new philosophical board/paper I'm going to make is going to start with different quotes than last time!

Two years ago, I liked these two, listed one after the other, by Kafka:

"Don't you want to join us?" I was recently asked by an acquaintance when he ran across me alone after midnight in a coffeehouse that was already almost deserted. "No I don't, " I said.

The happiness of being with people.

At that time, I was learning to admit what I thought and liked; and at that time, I was becoming comfortable with wanting to be alone and independent. Now, I'm trying to branch out more and be more comfortable with being social, so I'm not including that quote. (I was, perhaps, falsely social before; I really wanted to just be on my own even though I made the effort to talk to people—but it always seemed to be small talk anyway.) Two years I didn't like this one by Kobayashi Issa because I was tired of things getting better "eventually." Now I like it because of my battle with all-or-nothing thinking and my goal with doing at least something instead of not trying at all:

O snail
climb Mount Fuji,
But slowly, slowly!

I also really enjoy that it is addressing a snail with the word 'O,' a word that usually addresses apparently great, majestic things like holy nights (this is called the vocative case, by the way).

Oh what can change in two years!

Magritte and Sylvia Plath! Together!

2011-04-06T19:50:00.000-07:00

I'm going to change the blog picture, so here it is, immortalized:

Cuckoo! Cuckoo!

2011-03-14T22:18:00.000-07:00

I'm reading One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, which is about a new patient in an asylum who stands up to the autocratic nurse and her cronies. The system isn't helping the patients, but no one objects before he arrives.

I was at a pharmacy today,

which on Saturday was out of a needed prescription; they promised it would be here today, but it wasn't— they had the same medication in smaller doses, but they couldn't give me a different dose without a doctor's approval, which would take at least a day. Every suggestion I gave, such as giving me some 5 and 10 mg pills (I usually took half of a 15 mg one), was against some sort of rule. I explained that I only needed enough for a few days, but there was nothing they could do; I would have to go somewhere else, which was difficult for me without convenient transportation. Adding to the confusion was the fact that I was trying to transfer this prescription from the same pharmacy in a different state, which was causing problems. So, to recap: Getting a lower dose was impossible, and I'd have to wait or go somewhere else.

They were kind enough to call up other pharmacies to see if they had the dosage in stock. It was while talking to a third pharmacy that the pharmacist mentioned that they should transfer the 15 mg prescription, not the 10 mg one on file(the 10 mg was a previous dosage). I had to interrupt him and ask if he could just fill the 10 mg one. He said that, well, that was for only eight pills; again, I just needed some for a few days, so that would definitely work.

While he was talking to the other pharmacist, I was reading One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest; the irony of the situation finally struck me: Here I was, trying to get some mental-health medication, but being held up because of some rules that didn't help or protect the consumer, not being listened to or understood, and reading this book. It gave me encouragement to keep on insisting on being helped, since my first inclination would be to just settle with them being out and having to wait. Also in the book, the nurse keeps calling the man McMurray when his last name is McMurphy; one of the technicians called me by a similar but incorrect last name as well.

This ended up taking at least an hour, when usually it takes 15 minutes. I am, however, grateful that medicine is so readily available and that I am able to afford it. One of McMurphy's observations is that the patients in the hospital have lost the ability to laugh. After I realized the humor of my situation compared with the one in the book, I was able to laugh about it, and it turned out OK.

amethysts on the shore

2011-03-11T12:20:00.000-08:00

I'm working with a guru of sorts who does Jungian dream analysis. Here is one of my dreams and the analysis we came up with:

I was on a beach, but instead of sand there were amethysts. I started to pick some up, but a man—an authority figure of some kind— came up to me and told me that I wasn't allowed to do that. When he wasn't looking, I took some anyway.

Later, as we were traveling, I told him with relish that I had taken some of the stones; he was angry, but I didn't care.

The dream ended with me playing croquet indoors with a French lady. We were speaking French together, and I was actually speaking French in my dream, even though I couldn't remember how to say certain things and had to ask the lady.

The amethysts are a really fantastic element of the dream. To me, they represent knowledge and wisdom—they were all the things the man didn't want me to know. Playing croquet and speaking French is something really delightful and a sign that I'm seeking out those special things that make me happy.

Why I love Harold and also Maude

2011-03-10T23:38:00.000-08:00

If you did not know I liked this movie, you will now.

If my heart were a goblet, it would run over with joy for Harold and Maude. I hesitate, however, to praise this movie too highly for fear that someone reading this will watch it and be disappointed. In my experience, going into a movie with low expectations is usually better than going in which high ones—you will more often be impressed and satisfied I 've found. If you expect a movie to be amazing, it will probably fail to live up to your standards, in my experience.

That being said, I went into watching Harold and Maude with absolutely no expectations, and I'm glad I didn't. I didn't know beforehand that it was quirky, a black comedy, and a cult movie. If I had known that going in, I think I would've doubted my affection for the movie; I would think I "liked" it because I was supposed to "get" it and like it if I had any sense about quality movies.

I don't know what exactly went through my head when I checked it out at the library, other than the fact that a dear friend had recommended it and laughed as she was trying to tell me about it; I didn't even read the back of the DVD case like I normally do, even for movies I don't intend to watch (I always find the way the descriptions are worded fascinating—they're trying to entice you to watch the movie and try to promise that you'll enjoy watching it "again and again"). In my mind, the movie was about a young man and an old woman who drive around in a car and fall in love.

Well, that's basically it. Actually, it's not. Actually...how can I put this movie into words? In short, it's about Harold, a young man who is obsessed with death who meets an old woman named Maude who is obsessed with life. Do you see the potential? The irony of that the young one likes death and the older one likes life? I find it inspiring, but it turns out to be inspirational and and succeed because of, not in spire of, its dark elements; without the dark elements, I think it would be absolutely and hideously cheesy. The stakes are high: Harold feels so alone and neglected by his mother that he stages his suicide over and over just to get her attention—he hangs himself, he slits his wrists, he drowns, he lights himself on fire. Cheery, yes? Then you have Maude, who lives exactly how she wants to and does what she wants—she steals cars (by using a keyring full of keys for different models of cars she got from a man named McSweeney before he entered a monastery), is a nude model for an ice sculptor, and loves to sing and dance and try new things everyday. She, however, has been through some absolute tragedies and catastrophes, so her zest for life isn't hollow. They meet at a funeral and become friends. Comedy ensues.

I really struggle to describe the movie, because the preceding paragraph makes it sounds like it's about an emo kid and an annoyingly quirky-for-quirky's-sake old lady. If you're interested, just watch it. It probably will not be what you expect, whatever it is that you expect. I could write papers on all of the themes of this movie, about how it's a reflection of the youth culture of the time, on the symbolic wardrobe choices, the generations (and gaps between them) represented, what it says about how individuality is affected by war, etc. etc. etc. There is a scene involving a shrunken head that never fails to make me crack up. No movie has made me as sad, and no movie has made me as happy. An accurate number of how many times I have seen this film would be difficult to gauge (though if I had to give a rough estimate, I'd say at least 15). (That preceding sentence is funny if you watch the movie.) It changed my life for the better.

wigwams

2011-03-05T16:01:00.000-08:00

There are two songs that I like by English artists that feature the word 'wigwam;' these songs are "Hey Bulldog" by the Beatles and "I Want to Live in a Wigwam" by Cat Stevens. The curious thing about this word 'wigwam' is that it is pronounced as 'wig-wham' (as opposed to wig-wom [rhymes with 'mom']). My theory for why this is: Wigwam is an "American" word, and so these English musicians think that the normal pronunciation of wigwam is just how they, as Brits, pronounce it. So they try to say it "authentically" as an American would say it and end up saying it incorrectly.

that thing is creepy

2011-02-28T20:47:00.000-08:00

In the famous psychological experiment with "Little Albert," a child was conditioned to fear anything white and fuzzy. This was accomplished by playing a loud, disturbing sound whenever Albert was shown a white rat. He learned to associate the white fur with the noise and consequently was also afraid of a fur coat and a white rabbit. He also, apparently, was afraid of a Santa Claus mask because of the beard. However, this is what that mask looked like:

I don't think you would have to be conditioned to fear that mask.

green apples

2011-02-25T10:09:00.001-08:00

From the poem "Metaphors" by Sylvia Plath:

I've eaten a bag of green apples,
Boarded the train there's no getting off.

haiku #47

2011-02-19T23:20:00.000-08:00

My lips are quite dry

And these pages will not stick

Glue stick and lip balm

vision

2011-02-13T21:55:00.001-08:00

Jonathan Swift said, "Vision is the art of seeing things invisible," which may be true. But isn't it equally as true that art is the vision of seeing things invisible?

august

2011-02-13T10:28:00.001-08:00

It was April when Cicily stood at the stove making moonbeams for the August nights.

a clue for Catherine

2011-01-28T13:36:00.000-08:00

Faced with a choice between two different versions of Brave New World at the library, I chose one because it had this quote on the back:

I don't want comfort.
I want God,
I want poetry,
I want real danger,
I want freedom,
I want goodness.
I want sin.

A mark of a good book, movie, etc. is that you can experience it again and again at different times in your life and it will still be applicable somehow. For that reason, I consider Brave New World a very good book; there were so, so many themes discussed that have been weighing on my mind.

I will admit that at times the world depicted in the book was disturbingly appealing to me, as one who has suffered (and continues to suffer) from clinical depression.

The quote above continues with this conversation:

"In fact," said Mustapha Mond, "you're claiming the right to be unhappy."
"All right then," said the Savage defiantly, "I'm claiming the right to be unhappy."
"Not to mention the right to grow old and ugly and impotent; the right to have syphilis and cancer; the right to have too little to eat; the right to be lousy; the right to live in constant apprehension of what may happen tomorrow; the right to catch typhoid; the right to be tortured by unspeakable pains of every kind." There was a long silence.
"I claim them all," said the Savage at last.
Mustapha Mond shrugged his shoulders. "You're welcome, he said."

The people in Huxley's Brave New World were content, but in order to avoid extreme negative emotions, they sacrificed the possibility of experiencing extreme positive emotions. There was, for example, no satisfaction of a dream being fulfilled because every desire was immediately satisfied, and what couldn't be satisfied they were conditioned to not want. At times I have wondered if all of this suffering is worth it and if it wouldn't be better to sacrifice the positive emotions to at least be stable. But by claiming the right to be unhappy, you're also claiming the right to be happy, not to mention the right to appreciate youth, the right to be healed, the right to enjoy delicious food, the right to be truly great, the right to live with confidence, the right to an immune system, the right to believe in something passionately.

I claim them all!

why i like emo kids—really

2011-01-27T16:40:00.000-08:00

Emo kids to me seem to be one of the most lampooned groups on the internet. They're easy targets with their sad dispositions, floppy hair, and dramatic makeup. And it's always effortless to pick on the weak and those with low self-esteem.

But those emo kids keep on keepin' on even though they're mocked. Dressing emo is a blatant statement to make, and although some are not sincere and just do it for attention, others are publicly expressing a very deep sadness; that's brave to show that. They may be unaware that people mock them or they might not care. (Or it might just fuel their sadness.)

The internet has only aided the human instinct to call attention to and make fun of those who are different. I

hate it so much. I'm not blameless in this area either, and I do recognize it as apparently a part of human nature; but it's so easy to tear other people down, and there are endless internet sites making fun of people's shoes, outfits, etc., and that bothers me. If people want to wear that, let them wear it.

In elementary school, I wore a dress every day because I liked wearing dresses. The girls made fun of me for it (kids will find anything that's different about you to mock), and it finally got to me so much that in 4th grade I went out and bought pants and stopped wearing dresses. Finally, I'm back to a place where I recognize my desires should outweigh a possible negative reaction from strangers, and I dress in my own unique style. As a favorite Beatles song says,

And it really doesn't matter if I'm wrong
I'm right where I belong
I'm right where I belong
See the people standing there
who disagree and never win
and wonder why they don't get in my door

Let's please applaud individuality instead of becoming one of the faceless, bland millions who somehow has the right to call other people stupid for being unlike them. The same: different does not equal good: bad. It's stupid to make fun of people who are already depressed or who dress differently because they want to. As a favorite Cat Stevens song says,

Well, if you want to sing out, sing out
And if you want to be free, be free
'Cause there's a million things to be
You know that there are...
You can do what you want
The opportunity's on
And if you can find a new way
You can do it today...
Well if you want to say yes, say yes
And if you want to say no, say no
'Cause there's a million ways to go
You know that there are

Thank you.

a hard lesson to learn

2011-01-27T16:18:00.000-08:00

You rarely see "tusk" in the singular.

fonts

2011-01-26T21:49:00.000-08:00

pictorial

2011-01-26T20:34:00.000-08:00

Why I like haiku

2011-01-26T15:39:00.000-08:00

I've realized that I like haiku so much because of my struggle with perfectionism. By nature, they can only be so long; I don't have to agonize over word choice and editing.

Socks are red and black
and the t-shirt's inside out
It's one of those days

[untitled]

2011-01-15T18:35:00.001-08:00

Note: this has nothing to do with my current situation.

Why is it so easy to fall in love but so hard to get over that person if you lose them?

The pesky letter h

2011-01-12T14:08:00.000-08:00

This post has a picture at the end.

In a German class last semester, we talked about comprehension methods; it is more effective to read a whole passage and get sort of the gist of it than to focus on individual words. The professor gave the example of a passage about forests being cut down. The words for 'forest' and 'world' are similar in German, and a student interpreted the passage as being about the world being destroyed. He focused only on one word and colored his reading of the rest of the passage with that interpretation.

I had to laugh at myself because I just did something similar.

I was reading a difficult German text that had many words I didn't know. I came to the word Wahlkampf, a compound word which, I thought, broken down meant 'whale' and 'struggle.' The 'struggle' part was right, but I was one letter off on the word Wahl, which actually means 'election,' 'vote,' etc. (Whale is Wal.) It means an 'election campaign,' but I was picturing something different...

d'un monde oublié

2010-12-30T09:39:00.000-08:00

Look at me being all trendy with the courier font and the header that has a bird and music and a collage. Whatever. I still like it. So what does this blog title mean? Perhaps you've done some sleuthing on your own, but here's my official explanation.

The title is a phrase from a hymn in French called "Souviens-toi" ("Remember"); it means "the song of birds in a forgotten world." I chose it for several reasons.

It incorporates many things I love: birds, music, French, etc.
It smacks of surrealism. A "forgotten world" ties in with my Salvador Dali quote and with what I interpret the line "till human voices wake us, and we drown" to mean.
I love the hymn itself because it is set to a part of "The New World Symphony."
I also love the hymn because I like imagining Heaven as a paradise where we once lived and where we will live again.
The phrase is melodious.
I find it whimsical.
The line is one of my two favorite parts of the song.

I've seen an English translation of the hymn, but I'd like to use my poetry, language, and word skills to make my own that I like more.

In describing the world I see, i.e. my view of reality, I'm trying to find this hidden world in which I'd like to exist.

in sunshine, in rain, that spring will come again

2010-12-30T09:20:00.000-08:00

I'm regaining my confidence. My inspirations:

The elementary-school-aged me

I was a good kid. My mom has reminded me that once, I got a slip to go to the principal's office. One of the obnoxious boys said something like, "Ooooh! You're in trouble!" to which I responded, "No, I'm probably getting an award." And I came back with an award. Don't believe the mockers!

Frank William Abignale, as portrayed by Leonardo DiCaprio in Catch Me If You Can

Yes, he was a conman who cashed millions of dollars' worth of fraudulent checks, but he was confident! Yes, he was acting, and he was convincing because he unapologetically stated what he wanted people to believe. It's all about the delivery—people will believe you if you believe in yourself.

Gwenyth Paltrow in this clip from Glee:

A high-school student calls her old and she proves her wrong.
She is almost 40 and is wearing a mini skirt and boots (and looks great).
She is a truly talented vocalist, and her attitude is what seals this performance.
She's a white woman covering a groovy song by a black man and owns it without embarrassment.
She's not afraid to say that she's mad at this guy but still admits to loving him.

p.s. I loved Gwen in this episode because of the character she played (well). I was impressed especially with the scene with her heart-to-heart talk with Will—it was so natural and nuanced and layered.

Also, as a future teacher, I'm all about making education applicable and interesting to students. Maybe they weren't the most sensitively addressed topics, but talking about how many times a certain star has gone to rehab in Spanish or discussing Mary Todd Lincoln's bipolar disorder by imagining yourself with the illness is awesome to me. What makes the difference is that she has the students talk about the specified topic amongst themselves.

p.p.s. I hate the Auto-Tuning, especially as a former member of show choir. If you're going to have the actors work hard to learn their parts, let us hear their voices—flaws and all. You can't even tell that it's those actors singing (and maybe they're not!) except during the bridge ("Baby, why'd you wanna go and hurt me so bad?")

the lengths i will go to to hide

2010-12-14T11:59:00.000-08:00

Perhaps you've noticed that this blog is mainly about my thoughts, not actions or everyday life; I've found that (such as when keeping a journal) knowing what I'm thinking is more significant than what I'm doing. Today, I will tell a story. The story involves me hiding in my room with the lights out while a realtor puts down my apartment for being messy.

The apartment I lived in my first year at BYU had a keypad instead of a lock. When I arrived there, there was a large amount of water damage from a leak in our wall. The management, being helpful, decided to bring a giant fan in to dry out the carpet, but they chose to do so when I was alone in the apartment, still asleep in the morning.

It is not fun to be awoken by someone ringing the doorbell. My family has always been on the conservative side of answering the door, i.e. if we do not know the person at the door, we do not open it. I wasn't expecting anyone, and I had of course just woken up, so I ignored it. After a few more rings, I hear someone punching in the code on the keypad and coming in. (I then called my mom up, whispering from my room, wondering if I should call the police or something.) Thank you for coming in with a fan, but I'm not too comfortable with you just opening the door because no one's home. I wouldn't want to come home to a strange man in my house. Also, my excuse was that I was alseep; I or one of my roommates might have been in the shower or even sitting on the couch, home sick from school. It was a pretty black and white move (they're not answering, ergo they must not be home, ergo I can come in without disturbing anyone [I'm taking Latin, so excuse my gratuitous use of the word 'ergo']). Coming to fix our apartment? Good. Entering a locked girls' apartment? Not good.

That was the precedent for this next event. One evening, I was going to go over to my dear friend Catherine's apartment. I was going to take the bus, and the bus stop was just a five minute walk from my place; the bus came every half hour. I was eating dinner, getting ready to go, when someone rang the doorbell. Again, I was all alone, I wasn't expecting anyone, and I had no clue who may be outside my door in the evening. The ringer was persistent and kept ringing and ringing and ringing.

I'm home alone
I'm just about ready to leave, so I don't have time to talk to someone
I don't know who's outside
I have no clue if they would only talk for a couple of minutes or require more time
I need to catch the bus or wait another half hour

I then hear someone talking on a cell phone and sounding very upset. I gathered from this overheard conversation that this was a realtor showing the apartment to two potential buyers, since the person who owned the apartment was selling it. They were upset that they weren't being let in (very very upset). I couldn't leave to go to the bus, because then I'd have to open the door and see them and tell them to go away (or, you know, tour the apartment in my absence). The realtor was so upset and persuasive that whoever from management was on the phone gave her the keypad code.

Not nice? Yes. Not ethical? Quite possibly.

So, not even completely cleaning up my dinner (to be honest, I think I was having oatmeal), I hastily shut off all the lights and ran to my room. I locked it and turned the lights out and put a chair in front of the door (hey, if they got the keypad code, maybe they'd find some way into my room). I listened as the realtor showed the place to the potential buyers (a man and his pregnant wife). I heard her say with derision when seeing one of the bedrooms, "You wouldn't think that girls could be this messy!" She also called the apartment a "cash cow," which made me feel great about the rate I was paying for rent. When the realtor came to open my door, which was of course locked, she said sort of angrily, "They locked this one!!" Oh yes, we mischevious tenants, locking doors so she can't show the whole house, mua ha hahaha.

Finally they left, and I was pleased that I made it so they were clueless that anyone was home. I was listening to them from a darkened room. It turned out that what had happened was the management had talked to one of my roommates and asked her if a realtor could come by and show the place at a certain time on a certain day. That roommate forgot to tell us about it and of course wasn't home at that time. I really don't blame her. I think the realtor was all kinds of obnoxious. Also, she let go of common decency and ethics to prevent missing out on a sale which is, you now, pretty lame (I mean no offense by the use of that word to those who are actually physically lame).

One of my main goals currently is to speak up, be more assertive, not overthink all of the ways what I say could offend someone, etc. I hope that in a similar situation today, I would actually open the door and tell them quite plainly that I wasn't informed about this, that I was leaving, and that they could not come in. It would not be my fault or responsibility. I don't think I'd be a jerk for telling them that.

2010-12-07T17:57:00.000-08:00

While looking for a collection of Keats poems, I found a book with this poem on the cover (there were more inside by the same author). I thought this was a good idea to have a sample poem on the front so people can see a preview of what's inside without even opening it up; hopefully, people like me will thenopen the book and look inside.

It is by Vera Pavlova.

If there is something to desire,
there will be something to regret.
If there is something to regret,
there will be something to recall.
If there is something to recall,
there was nothing to regret.
If there was nothing to regret,
there was nothing to desire.

Internet safety

2010-12-03T18:23:00.000-08:00

When watching the Frontline video, these are the things that stood out to me.

1. Parental controls failing
Kids are smart. Sure, they may seem like they just procrastinate and try to just scrape by in school; their cunning is not measurable in academic ways necessarily. One student talked about how his parents tried to use AOL parental controls to monitor his internet use. So when he knew they were monitoring him, he would make sure to just go on sites that they would approve of (like Britannica); when they weren't, he would surf the net as usual. One group of siblings who considered their mother overprotective would just make sure to use the internet at their friend's houses.

Parents who hover too much over the internet seem to be just as (if not more) ineffective as the parents who go through their kids' backpacks, rooms, etc. It doesn't make the kids stop doing the unapproved behavior; it just makes them better at hiding it. There has to be a middle ground where the parents trust their children to be doing the right thing online and give them freedom but make sure they understand that as a parent, they can step in at any time and stop what the kid is doing. The kids should know that it is not unreasonable for a parent to want to see what you're doing online but know also that the parent is respecting their boundaries.

2. Oversharing
The internet has made it so simple to share all of the details of your life. So many people "overshare" (cross over into the "TMI" category online, i.e. share details that other people are not interested in hearing about, may bother people, or may make the author look incredibly foolish) that websites have popped up making fun of these people. The content is user-submitted. There are even themed sites that highlight only parents who describe disgusting details about their babies, people who expose their ignorance and stupidity by what they write, and people who use bad grammar and spelling.

My theory for why oversharing is so common is that on the internet, you're just sitting in front of your computer all alone. You aren't face to face with the people who are reading what you write. And depending on your privacy controls, anyone in the whole world could read what you post. That separation between the writer and the reader makes people feel more secure and like their privacy is protected; it is a case of "ignorance is bliss" or "what you don't know can't hurt you." People with whom you wouldn't share these details face to face just may be reading your update about how you're waiting to find out if you're an aunt or an uncle, that you're complettttly druuuuuuuunk, that you're confused about how an airplane can fly from the North Pole to the South Pole without flying upside down, or how "stupit" your "frend" is being.

3. The "old rules"
Teachers in the videos talked about how the rules have changed and how teachers need to adapt to keep up with technology. One said teachers had to be more like entertainers because kids absorb so much media during the day that a boring teacher will get tuned out in favor of something more fun to listen to or watch. One student said he didn't read books and only looked up the SparksNotes for them and guessed that most students did the same. One teacher had more of an accepting attitude toward the way students did work; in fact, his attitude made the interviewer asked if he was condoning cheating (which he said he wasn't. I think he was saying he accepted that it happened but wouldn't encourage students to doing it). I find myself more on the side of the English teacher who is trying to uphold education as it has been. It is tougher to pay attention to what matters in this day and age; I often spend hours of time online and afterward wish I hadn't. But I don't think we should accept that students can't control themselves.

I am in favor of using technology in the classroom to teach more effectively and to communicate in a medium that students understand better. What I do not agree with is making the rules more lax and just accept the way students are dishonestly completing their assignments. To me, it really isn't about the grade or the test score; students who aren't doing their work honestly aren't getting anything out of school. The point should be to learn, not to get good grades. I just had a realization that too often the way school is set up is that the goal is to get good scores on assignments and tests; that shouldn't be the objective (learning should be) but be a positive consequence of achieving the objective. If teachers are only monitoring students' success by their grades, it just encourages them to take shortcuts on assignments. That unhealthy culture where the emphasis is on points is just made worse by the convenience of the internet.

My goal is to be a teacher who makes it clear that learning and trying is what matters. I will talk about the internet and how it makes cheating easier. If what's being graded is effort instead of perfection, I think that will encourage students to not take shortcuts on the internet. I want students to feel open to talking to me; if a student was having a really tough time and had an awful week, I might give them more points so that the right amount of points would be awarded in relation to effort.

I feel that as a person who has been on the internet since sixth grade and who does struggle with paying attention and not searching the internet for hours to ignore problems, I will understand my future students' struggles. I will know what their struggle is like and will be more able to help them.

clouds only go away with a change in the wind

2010-12-01T11:05:00.000-08:00

I have a new hobby(ish thing).

A haiku:

Some lines from Tennyson and something I thought up about clouds:

More to come.

p.s. Huh. Those two lines from "Maud" are out of order and in completely different stanzas. But "The black bat, night, has flown to the woody hollows in which we meet and the valley of paradise" works well too. I created something new out of something that was already there! Like Dr. Frankenstein! OK, maybe that's not the best comparison.

Neque porro quisquam est qui doLOREM IPSUM

2010-12-01T10:39:00.000-08:00

Is a fairy princess a princess who is also a fairy? Or a fairy that is also a princess?

There are several techniques I've seen popularized over the last few years in TV and film, and I'm mentioning them for kicks and giggles. What I do is I observe what's going on in society and figure out why.

1. Documentary-style hand-held cameras

I believe this started out in TV with the popularization of documentary-style shows such as the Office and Arrested Development. Generally, I do not like shows that have laugh tracks; that is, it isn't laugh tracks themselves that I don't like, but rather the shows that employ them (sitcoms). I think documentary-style shows are a sort-of sitcom (but with slightly different humor [which I actually like and at which I actually laugh]; they get around having a laugh track because they're "real" and less like "tv shows."

This technique has spread to other shows and movies that aren't faux documentaries as a way to make the action seem more real and make the audience feel that they're closer to the action. Fringe is an example of a show that is not imitating a documentary but uses this a lot. I just saw Deathly Hallows, and there is a part that utilizes this technique for a different purpose. When Ron interrupts Hermione and Harry's conversation and Harry gets up angrily, the camera follows him, adding to the feeling of frustration and roughness.

Sure, using handheld cameras isn't revolutionary, but I think shows like the Office brought it back en vogue. In the 60s, doing this was very new and creative. It's been refreshed a bit.

2. Subjects in and out of focus in the same shot

At first I thought this was cool when I saw it on show like Fringe, but now it just annoys me. It is also used a lot in Deathly Hallows, showing it's become more mainstream. Several people will be in the frame, but only one will be in focus, and the people out of focus will often be moving. This person is of course the one you're supposed to be paying attention to. But having people moving around in the back show that action is still going on—it hasn't stopped for the character to give a monologue. In the past, it seems to me that if someone were out of focus, they wouldn't be moving.

I think it bothers me because seeing things out of focus isn't fun and because it starts to just look lazy (instead of alternating the angles, you just keep one person out of focus). I know that its purpose isn't exactly to save time and work, but it looks like it.

----

Of course, these things could have been far more common in the past than I realize, could be done for different reasons than I suppose, or aren't exactly new. But, this is what I've observed and thought about. And so it is.

I am Spartacus!

2010-11-18T15:21:00.000-08:00

I have a natural aptitude for learning languages, for which I am most grateful. But today, I finally became grateful for struggling to learn Latin; it's so that I can better understand potential future students who have a hard time learning languages. I try to observe (and of course help) fellow students who need help in language classes, so that even if I don't have trouble learning a certain principle, I can identify with people who do. You can be skilled at something, but teaching it can be an entirely different matter. I've taken group quizzes in math classes and have asked the guy with the best understanding for help, and he couldn't explain it. I wanted to know the why and the logic of the math, but the best he could do was "That's just how it works" or "Why wouldn't you do it like that?"

And now, from my struggles as a student of Latin, I present a tip for teachers:

If you're planning for the students to play a game, tell them that at least the day before. Let them prepare. We all have those days when we have time to either do the task that is for sure due tomorrow or to study for a quiz that's a few days away; and there are also times where we are just struggling to keep up. Playing a game where the whole class, or at least a select group of students, can hear your answers (as opposed to taking a test that only the professor can see) puts so much more pressure on the students and increases the frustration. Also, games help reinforce what you already know. If you don't know it in the first place, then it can't be reinforced.
I must note that whenever we've played a game in that class, it's been with a guest teacher; so, to all of your guest teachers: if you want to do an activity like playing a game, let the actual teacher know that in advance so s/he can inform the class.

Or, maybe since it's Latin they do this on purpose to make us feel like gladiators.

ora pro nobis

2010-11-18T15:11:00.000-08:00

In my German teaching class this week, we were talking about strategies to learning languages that we could teach. Some of the encouraged strategies were:

Go for global meaning. In reading and listening, go for the big, overall ideas, then delve
into details only if you have time and interest. In speaking and writing, you may not be
able to be subtle—get the main point across.
Use the target language. When writing, don’t compose in English and then translate.
Don’t translate word-for-word when reading or listening. Think in the target language.

And then my struggle with learning Latin made a lot more sense. We don't come up with our own utterances; we translate what the book asks us to. This also means that we are always translating from English. And knowing the general meaning doesn't cut it--we have to know the definition (including case, gender, etc.) for every single word. This is not the most effective way to learn a language. We don't speak to each other, asking and answering questions, in Latin; we don't think in the language. The problem is, Latin is dead, so what you can do seems limited. There are some teachers, however, who teach living languages like I'm being taught Latin, which is not good.

I always remember Latin when I have it in context, so to study I try to make up my own sentences or even just phrases. When we were learning pronouns (there are 15 of them), I learned 'eam' (her) by changing a Beatles song ("And I Love Her") into Latin ("Et eam amo"). I know 'id' means 'it' because of the phrase 'id est,' which we abbreviate as 'i.e.' I know the Hail Mary in Latin, so I know that 'pro' means 'for' and 'nobis' means 'us.' The phrase 'deus ex machina' reminds me that God is 'deus,' 'ex' is 'out of',' and 'machina' is the ablative form of the word for 'machine.' This is how I learn. I need to find some more successful ways to memorize for Latin class, since rote memorization isn't cutting it. I refuse to just learn paradigms.

bright and beautiful

2010-11-15T01:32:00.000-08:00

I try to love all of God's creatures. Most of them I naturally love. I've cut down almost completely on the meat. Then there are hideous beings called star nosed moles that push me to the limits of tolerance.

Roommates, be grateful I am merciful and will not hunt you down in your sleep for changing my desktop background to a picture of that freakish creature.

It was even worse that earlier in the day, I had watched a Fringe episode wherein a man, who was infected with a human-made virus, painfully changed into a hellish creature with giant quills that brought down an airplane. That thing reminded me of the other thing. [shudder]

Luckily, God be praised, there was a folder open that covered the face of that ugly animal; I only had to see the claws before anxiously changing the desktop background, trying to avoid looking at even the thumbnail of the photo. [triple shudder]

I worried that expressing my discontent with that thing would just egg my friends on to playing some trick on me; I said that I would rather have a picture of Rasputin next to my bed than a picture of that thing. So friends reading this blog, do not ever use that organism in any way intended to frighten me. I would rather face a tarantula or an anteater.

If I ever watch the movie Thumbelina, I will my screaming in my head, "DON'T MARRY THE MOLE!!!!!"

small print: I am in no way responsible for any emotional, mental, or other type of scarring or trauma that comes as a result of viewing a picture of that awful horrific animal; any person who searches for an image thereof does so with his or her own free will and not as a result of any of my actions.

For shiz up the spout

2010-11-15T01:17:00.000-08:00

This post has nothing to do with pregnancy. This phrase (which turns out to be Scottish in origin) is just sort of stuck in my head. You'll see why when the picture below is revealed!

I've mentioned the store anthropologie before [you're welcome for the publicity, capitalist pigdogs!!]; I have never stepped foot in a store or bought anything from it. I look at the products for inspiration. The store seems to buzz with the energy of a whimsical lifestyle.

Apparently, my reluctance to actually buy anything from this store is quite Chinese in character. I have a friend who sells crafts at craft fairs/boutiques/bazaars/whatever you want to call them; she is Asian, and most of the shoppers are also Asian. She is Chinese by descent, but she's definitely American. She has told me that the way to tell if someone at the craft fair is Japanese or Chinese is this: the Japanese will just buy the craft that they like, while the Chinese will say, "Eh. I can make that myself" and move on. This is so patently my motto! I refuse to buy anything I feel that I could make myself; and I think it means much more when I make it! The only times I will buy something that I could make is if I want to use it as a model for future home-made items, or if I could theoretically make it, but it's so complicated that it's just worth it to buy the thing.

I was just browsing the anthropologie (which I refuse to call "anthro;" ick.) website, and there are some items there that are so basic and so expensive. There's a collection of pinhole cameras that are in funky colors and look like regular cameras. But each one is $148. And isn't the fun of a pinhole camera that you make it yourself?? I really really really really want to make one, and I will. It will be awesome.

And here, the picture that inspired the title. This is a piece of artwork, from a sketchbook, that is for sale on the website:

It's a whale. It's a simple outline of a whale. There are no eyes. How much does this go for?

Also $148. It's a whale! Yes, yes, if it's by a famous artist, then surely it's worth the price to someone. The store's banking on it—otherwise they wouldn't be hawking this sucker. Then—then—there is an even better [what's the word for a thing that's for sale? singular form of merchandise? not object...product!!]product: it is a paint-spattered easel that is 69 inches tall, and it sells for

$2,100. For an easel! A dirty easel! You can't even authentically spatter paint on it yourself? Someone in France has to do it (it is a product of France)? Oh, because coming from France naturally makes it better. Tout le monde sait que toute chose en France est parfait. Tout le monde en France est artiste et sympa et belle. Toute chose que leurs mains font est merveilleuse! And if you order it online, there's an extra $150 shipping and handling free. Ridicule!

They have mirrors that look like antiques. I'd rather find one at a flea market: it'd probably be cheaper, and it's actually authentic. I love thrift stores. I love repurposing old items. And they're cheap! I heard from people that the DI in Provo wasn't great because it was so picked over. Not so! It is the largest thrift store I've been in; they have so many things, so many excellent things. If that shop's picked over, I would love to see it untouched!

You're welcome, DI, for the free publicity. I think you, as an organization that trains people in need and helps them find work, deserve this publicity. Other stores: thank you for your inspiration. Without you, I could not make the things I do. But no matter how beautiful your products are, I find your price tags too ugly (in fact, I could make those price tags too).

p.s.

2010-11-13T16:51:00.000-08:00

Almost a year ago I mentioned a house in Provo in a blog post; the house is called Rose Cottage/Secret Garden, which is, basically, the most whimsically fantastic name ever (which is better than fantastically whimsical).
I am indeed considering moving to a house in the future. I love the little houses in Provo and I think one would feel more like a home, and there would be more incentive to keep the place nice. But I do not want to pay more than what I'm paying now for rent.

I've started Project Stop Sign: I have a map of all the streets south of campus and I'm marking where the stop signs are (there are mostly two-way stops at the intersections). I walk and ride my bike a lot, and it's quite difficult to cross the street coming from a side with a stop sign; there is a long line of cars which may or may not be paying attention to you. So, I'm finding some routes where I will never be on a side of a street with a stop sign so will have the right of way and not be fighting traffic.

I looked up the address of this whimsical house, eager to see it and if it was as fantastic as I'd hoped. I think part of me wanted it to be so, and a smaller part of me hoped it wasn't that great so that I wouldn't want to live there.

My goodness, it is absolutely beautiful. There is a porch, a back gate, an arbor, and several colors of rose bushes in the front yard. Half of the house is striped pink and yellow, and another part is light green. I believe there are dormer windows.

But, the thing about houses that I've noticed is that in the end, what seems to matter is what's inside the house. And I don't mean that as the sentimental thought that "houses are made of bricks and stones; homes are made of love alone." It's just that you rarely get to see the outside of your house because you spend most of your time in it. So your house could look absolutely breathtaking, but it doesn't matter if the inside doesn't match.

That's my goal: to make it match.

p.s. I hope I'm not being creepy talking about a house that I find beautiful in which complete strangers live. Don't mind me, I'm just worshiping your house.

a faint sense of dread

2010-11-13T16:34:00.000-08:00

My watch was an hour behind, so I corrected it. Then Daylight Saving Time (what an odd phrase) ended, so now it's an hour ahead. But I'm anxious to change it because I fear that I will forget that the watch will be correct; so I'll think it's an hour earlier than my watch says and thus be an hour late for everything.

My memory has, within the last six months or so, pejorated and I forget the simple actions I complete more often. I take a number of pills at the same time, for example, and I will forget which ones I have taken if I do not use a pill box. I'm sure everyone experiences this problem of forgetting the things that you've done. It just has gotten worse for me. I have OCD, which adds to the stress of this. For example, I am in the habit of locking the door, top and bottom, so I will complete that action without consciously realizing it. So then I'll wonder if I really did lock it? So I'll have to go back and check. But then sometimes I still don't remember if I did or not, so I'll have to go back again. I must consciously say to myself, "I am locking the door." Again, I'm sure everyone experiences the frustration that comes with forgetting if you have completed simple tasks or not; for me, it just comes with a lot more anxiety.

Note to self: Remember to check out (meaning to look at, or perhaps also to borrow from the library) the book Paper Magic when it's back on the shelf. I saw it in the sorting shelves and didn't want to pick it up and look at it then for fear of messing up their system somehow.

Every so often at night when I'm in that vague realm between sleeping and waking I'll think of a short poem, or a great mantra. I'll think of writing it down, but I feel unable to move, and I reassure myself that it's such a simple phrase that I'll remember it in the morning. Never. I never ever remember. So I will write it down from now on. The poem that I came up with could have been the makings of The Best Poem in the World and Throughout History; if I remember even a little bit of that lost poem, it will only be a tribute to what could have been The Best Poem in the World.

I hope if a potential boss ever reads this blog to see if I'd be a good employee or not that s/he will recognize even my melancholy posts as being thoughtful and for the intent of solving problems.

the truth!

2010-11-11T23:41:00.000-08:00

Hipsters.

Do we know what hipsters are? They are a group so often mocked, and I honestly wonder how they must feel. Do they know how much they are made fun of and looked down upon? I seriously applaud their self-assurance to live that lifestyle if that's what they want to do despite the fact that they aren't respected.

I feel this way, because I am incredibly self-aware—which is quite often a handicap, as I analyze my decisions, my thoughts, my words and prevent myself from saying or doing what I really want to.
I don't like a lot of how I was in high school. And I feel like a stereotype as college has helped make me more progressive, more artsy, etc. I feel like saying how I've changed and what I think will just make people think, "Ah, well she's a college student in her early 20s. This idealism and creativity will fade into middle-class monotony and traditional living."

I don't just decorate my walls; I hinder myself by obsessing over what it will say about me to people. I notice characteristics that others don't notice about themselves and overanalyze them.

This all goes back to that age-old problem of worrying too much about what others think about you. I need to create a shield to block out any ridicule or animosity that may radiate from others. I, counter-intuitively, need to create a bubble that I live in that makes me happy and which doesn't use others' approval as inspiration.

This subject all started because I wanted to post a simple quiz result, and it's burgeoned into this discussion (or can you not have a discussion with only one person?). There are characteristics about hipsters that I identify with, but the whole attitude doesn't fit. Yesterday some friends were hunting for quizzes online to determine if you were a hipster or not, which inspired me to do the same. This is my result, which I think is perfectly accurate:

Brainy Hipster
You are a brainy hipster. You consider yourself a progressive, independent thinker that stands out in a crowd. You appreciate witty banter, intelligence, and independently created work like music, poetry or video games. You might not like being called a hipster because they are often associated with an elitist attitude and a somewhat privileged lifestyle, but at your core your unique perspective makes you a hipster.

Ta-da!

love those clarinets!

2010-11-08T09:46:00.000-08:00

Coincidences! Sergeant Pepper! Barbershop!

In high school, I attended a women's barbershop festival; we rehearsed the songs all day, then performed them that night. I was excited, because two of the songs were by the Beatles (my favorite most favorite band): "In My Life" and "When I'm Sixty-four."

There were three other girls from my school who attended and who were in choir, so I rounded them up and we agreed to audition for a group performance for the upcoming pops concert.
(For every concert, there were several songs performed by each of the six choirs; in addition, choir members could prepare their own material and audition for a solo or group act). We decided on "When I'm Sixty-four," which is on the album Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. We busily prepared. We got in the concert!

For choir numbers, our costumes were assigned; but for our barbershop number, we chose our own costumes. We agreed on black on bottom and a bright color on top. We did not discuss specific colors. The day of our first run-through with costumes, we found that we had each picked a different color to wear, and that they were the same colors of the Sergeant Pepper's uniforms (Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band is the album that When I'm Sixty-four is on). We didn't try to do it and it was a complete complete coincidence. Behold!


However, none of us had mustaches.

In addition, I had picked a bright blue shirt because it was the only really bright colored, plain shirt I had, and I sang the lead part. As you can see from the picture, Paul McCartney also wore bright blue, and he also sang the lead part (since he wrote the song).

It was destiny. The end.

p.s. I felt bad saying that I rounded them up, because it seems like I'm taking credit for the success. But that's not my intention, and it's the truth that I was the one who approached the others and organized it. I need to be better at accepting that sharing the good things I do isn't automatically bragging.

HAEC VICTORIA

2010-11-01T19:08:00.000-07:00

As a participant in a neurological study, I completed some basic activites, one of which I want to discuss. On a piece of paper was a box with the numbers 1 through 10 in little bubbles, spaced around in random order. My task was to draw a path from one number to the next in order as quickly as possible. After I completed that, I did the same but with the numbers 1 through 25, and then with letters of the alphabet; I whizzed through these activities.

The problem came when instead of going from number to number or letter to letter, I had to alternate letters and numbers, i.e. the path had to go from 1 to A to 2 to B to 3 to C, and so on. I had a surprising amount of trouble with it and paused significantly several times, not just searching on the paper for the next circle but thinking in my mind what came next. At one point I accidentally went from H to I.

This exercise I think relates well to memorization activities in foreign language classes. We're taught to memorize all the numbers in order and all the letters in order, but having to use them in a context when they're out of order messes up everything. I believe there is a similar problem with memorizing the conjugations of verbs and other paradigms just in an order but not in context.

I'm taking Latin this semester, and I've seen that it's dull and fairly useless to memorize charts. Although often on tests all that is required is that we write in the chart (e.g., I am, you are, he is, we are, etc.), when I need to translate a sentence it trips me up because there's the verb, but instead of being surrounded by the other conjugations of it, there are nouns and adjectives.

My textbook encourages the student to memorize the words for "this" for example in order, going from the word in each gender in one case to the word in each gender to the next case. Here's an example of the words for "this":

hic haec hoc

huius huius huius

huic huic huic

hunc hanc hoc

hoc hac hoc

It's fine and dandy if I can repeat those fifteen words in order, but what happens when I see the phrase hanc victoriam? Do I have to go and cycle through that whole list until I get to hanc? Yes, I can figure out the case from the sentence (and *declension of the noun victoriam) and the gender if I know that victoria is feminine. But my point is that memorizing this little paradigm isn't actually useful or applicable until you use them in sentences. The focus should, I think, be on using these words in sentences. What also could be helpful is memorizing each of those words with a matching noun, e.g., hic liber ("this book"), huic civitati ("to this state"), haec consilia ("these plans"); that way you're seeing them in context and killing two oiseaux with one pierre by memorizing the noun declensions too.

Latin is the hardest language I've learned thus far, and I think a major reason it's difficult is that although we can read and write in the language and translate various texts from one language to the other, we're not all speaking it together student to student or student to teacher. What I mean is, all we say is what's written on the page in front of us; we don't have conversations because it's a dead language. We have limited exposure to context because we're not creating our own sentences (which is different from merely translating an English sentence from the book into Latin; I didn't come up with that sentence).

I've studied for tests by going over and over and over different conjugation charts for verbs with different endings/conjugations and with different tenses (past, future, present, etc.); but when it came to the test I would often confuse myself, forgetting which conjugation went with which tense because I was using memory tricks that didn't have to do with context. But when I knew that amabo te, which means please, literally means "I'll love you," I could remember future tense so much better. When I study by memorizing the chart, I feel like I have to vomit all of the memorization out first before I can answer the parts of the test that have to do with sentences. Then, I will see a word in a sentence and go back to the chart, finding what gender and case it is. I do not recommend this method because you depend on the chart too much.

I used to use a chart to memorize German adjective endings, but now I don't need it because I've spoken and heard and read the language so much that it's second nature. I can see that that could eventually be the case with Latin, but it seems like a much slower process because you don't have the talking and listening. Whereas three years ago I could fill out the little chart quickly and accurately, I couldn't do it as fast now; but that's a good thing—because to remember what went where, I would think about an actual sentence. Instead of referencing the chart when reading a sentence, I reference a sentence when filling out the chart! Being able to do that is, I think, a sign of a certain level of mastery with the language.

*declensions are to nouns as conjugations are to verbs in Latin. Nouns have different endings based on their case/function in the sentence. Haec victoria means "this victory" when the victory is the subject (nominative case), while hanc victoriam means "this victory" when the victory is a direct object (in accusative case).

A thing of beauty.....

2010-11-01T00:39:00.001-07:00

Today, I stepped into an elevator and there were orange leaves on its floor.

I love autumn.

My Class Website

2010-10-12T19:40:00.000-07:00

Click here to visit my website for my fake German classes!

Some special features I put on the site:

A playlist widget on the homepage with German music. It is not on autoplay, meaning visitors to the site must choose to listen to the music, and they won't be automatically assaulted by it if they have their speakers up all the way!
There is the required googlemap showing the location of BYU, but I made an über helpful map of BYU with picnic with helpful labels and a huge circle drawn around the building where the class would meet. Since I'll be teaching 100-level courses, I anticipate that many freshmen will be in the classes; it can be confusing to find your way around campus even with a map at first.

My PLN, belatedly

2010-10-12T17:05:00.000-07:00

Here is a screen shot of my Google Reader homepage.

The blogs I'm following are:

The Hall Monitor

Based in New York state, this education blog has a good selection of education topics: Education in the news, student work and awards, new teaching practices, etc.

D-Ed Reckoning

Blogger/lawyer Ken DeRosa focuses on the need for improvement within the educational system. His main concern is the practice of making changes in education based on little, no, or incorrect information; he strives to find the truth and come up with logical solutions.

Deutsche Welle

Germany's main news source. I was allowed to use this because my major is German Teaching, and I was just expecting to use it as a way to improve my German by reading it and to provide authentic written German to students; however, they have an extensive section with all sorts of aides for teaching German! Who knew it'd be so useful?

Informal Learning Blog

My French teacher in high school started teaching without the textbook and traditional exercises and instead taught French by telling stories and mimicking a native environment. I'm really interested in new, fresh, and effective teaching environments that may buck tradition. To be honest, I'm not sure if this website really deals with this same process that my teacher used, but it looks at least like something I'm interested in.

Ideas and Thoughts from an Edutech

Problems and issues with and resources for teaching with technology and using online content in classes.

Lovely lizards eat lemon jelly

2010-09-29T09:10:00.000-07:00

It's song analysis time!

A fabulous song which I currently love includes this poignant line:

You are what you love and not what loves you back/I'm in love with illusion so saw me in half

The first part is a play on the common expression "you are what you eat." Physically, you are what you eat. But perhaps it's emotionally that you are what you love. In other words,
what you love defines you. It doesn't fully matter who loves you back, because that is the decision and the emotions of another person, which you cannot control. Also, that person could think s/he loves you but only loves who s/he thinks you are—when we don't truly know a person well, we fill in the blanks of his/her personality with characteristics we'd like her/him to have. So you person you're "in love" with could not even exist outside of your imagination.

This is why you are what you love. Loving even an imagined person tells you what you value and cherish. And it doesn't matter if you love John Doe but he's not at all who you think he is, because this person you've created just as clearly demonstrates your personality. Also, loving something usually consumes your thoughts and actions because you work to have what you love (and I'm not just talking about people). Your purpose is to achieve that beloved thing, and those actions and thoughts define you.

The second part of this line is awesome. One interpretation is that if you live an illusion, i.e. you live in a reality created in the end, you could get hurt in the end because the world doesn't function in a predictable way. In the real world, you know that touching a hot stove will hurt. But in your fantasy land you live in you don't believe that appliances work, you will still get hurt touching that stove because you can't change the facts. So, asking to be sawed in half like a magician's assistant may just kill you. What does being "in love" with illusion mean? If you are what you love, what does it mean to love illusion??? Calling it illusion suggests that you are aware it's not real; so as long as you aren't literally sawed in half you're OK. I've had a tea party with lemonade. It wasn't actually tea I was drinking, so no tea harmed me. I was aware it was an illusion. I'm trying to think of how that situation could be negative if someone were convinced it was tea. How would your life be different if you thought lemonade was tea? It's a question science has posed for centuries.

P.S. I've considered this for a long time: Isn't it interesting that in this new culture of technology and the internet, the format for citing sources has changed? We don't spell out the exact title of the article that we read; we just simply turn the word into a link. It's just assumed that making a word a link means it's a reference to another source. If you write, "A survey found that Atheists are most knowledgeable about religion," you know that if you click on the link, it will take you to a site with more information. You don't have to say, "Megan Friedman reported in her Time.com article Survey: Atheists Know More About Religion Than Believers that ...."

It may seem like a weird little thing to notice, but it's just interesting how practices change.

Post #2

2010-09-07T16:03:00.000-07:00

Here is a metaphorical picture I took of a statue and the courthouse:

I took this photo to point out the contrast of the austere building and the lighthearted statue. While I am a nerd and love stuffy university rooms lined with books, blazers, and Neo-classical architecture, I think too often we make education too formal and make it seem like the end result of an education is a degree or even a certain set of facts; while instead, I think the purpose of education is to enrich your life by helping you to appreciate and enjoy it more, widening your mind and your imagination, learning from past generations, and being able to use what you learn to help your everyday life.

To me, education should be like this picture: Respectable, built on tradition, but free enough that it lets your soul soar to new heights above the clouds of what you used to know.

Post #1

2010-09-07T15:50:00.000-07:00

A quick explanation about this blog's title:

"Lux et Veritas" is Latin for "Light and Truth," which I consider a powerful motto for the purpose of education. Incidentally, it is also the motto of Yale University. And, since this is a blog for a class at BYU, I will also mention that this phrase is the equivalent of the Hebrew "Urim v. Thummim."

Question: Why in the blog's address is "veritas" spelled "weritas"?

Answer: I wanted a simple title that described my blog, and lux and veritas. blogspot . com was already taken. In Latin, 'v's are pronounced like 'w's. Thus, I spelled it in more of a phonetic way.

I also hope you like my highly original titles for my posts.

Puellae vitas poetae servant

2010-09-04T10:53:00.000-07:00

I'm taking Latin this semester, which is awesome; I've always been fascinated with it and its built-in reputation of classicism, acedemia, nobility.

One thing that has stood out to me is how many of the words we use now have a Latin equivalent. There is a word for friend, for love, for anger. It's natural to want and to have friends. I don't know exactly why that seems so cheerful to me; maybe it's just happy to realize that friendship is an expected part of life, and that we're naturally inclined to seek out companionship. 2000 years ago, they were racing chariots and
wearing gladiator sandals (...I guess they're doing that now, too. The sandals—not the chariots. At least that I know of.) but they had friends and they loved.

I have a hard time keeping in mind that people who lived decades, centuries, and millenia ago are really just like we are with the same inclinations, wants, desires, etc. The stiff black-and-white photos of the 1800s make those people seem so formal and serious; they are not pictures of them going about their everyday life—shopping, visiting friends, having fun—so they seem like a different species of human. The clothing and technology likewise separates them from me. But I have to realize that sure, the culture was different, but they behaved just as we would had we been born in that time. (I wonder, however, if people had the same inclinations to do some of the shady things that are common today if they didn't know they existed?) Latin is helping me see the similarities between how people live now and how people lived then.

I once saw a picture in a history book of someplace in 18th-century France which featured a couple walking hand in hand. Holding hands has been around for centuries! And the Latin verb basiare teaches us that they kissed back then too (does anyone else wonder how kissing came about? Is it a natural inclination to put the part of your face that chews food and talks against someone else's? [That definition makes kissing seem nasty.] Or has it just been passed down culturally? Anyway, I think it's cool that even courtship had its similarities. Though I don't know if there was an equivalent to declaring your relationship status on Facebook. I wish I knew how to say "Facebook" in Latin.

Also, who wants to form a Latin-speaking colony with me so we can bring back this dead language? It could totally be done! Teach your children Latin. Speak it! Heck, some guy in the midwest taught his son Klingon as his first language.

Valete!

Some quotes I find on the likes of greeting cards in the bookstore

2010-08-30T15:34:00.000-07:00

"Now is the right time." —Paraphrased thought from the Lotus Sutra

"Great spirits have always encountered violent opposition from mediocre minds. The mediocre mind is incapable of understanding the man who refuses to bow blindly to conventional prejudices and chooses instead to express his opinions courageously and honestly."

—Einstein

"I say, follow your bliss and don't be afraid, and doors will open for you where you didn't know there were going to be. If you follow your bliss, doors will open for you that wouldn't have opened for anyone else."

—Joseph Campbell

If I could picture a literal door through which I would follow my bliss, it would be an old, old stained ornately carved door, possibly with a lion on it, with a heavy black metal handle. The image of a long hallway with wooden floorboards and sunlight streaming through the windows, through which you can see a courtyard fountain and green smooth grass and topiary trees fills me with delight. I do well with symbols.

Black and white and rainbow dust

2010-08-24T12:18:00.000-07:00

Awhile ago I posted some of THE WORLD'S BEST MUSIC VIDEOS. Now, here are some videos I like because they're actually...good.

"Why Do You Let Me Stay Here?" She & Him
"Fidelity," Regina Spektor
"Us," Regina Spektor
"Barcelona," The Plastiscines

And one more "great" one:
"Jump In My Car," David Hasselhoff (Both the song and the video are WONDERFUL. There is nothing creepy at all about a man in his 50s trying to pick up chicks. And showing images of him in his heyday isn't pathetic at all. It has great green screen action like "Hooked on a Feeling" too.) I feel sorry for him, in truth. But if he's enjoying what he's doing, more power to him.

Your dentist could become a queen

2010-08-21T13:44:00.000-07:00

This week, I watched a movie I loved as a kid. The main character goes to an English boarding school that teaches magic. Although this character and their best friend of the same gender have good hearts and mean well, they don't get the best grades in class. Plus, the mean Potions teacher is always picking on the main character while praising their rival, a snooty blonde student. For example, there's a scene where the character tries out for a team where students ride broomsticks, and that teacher is the judge; when they see the student in question from far away, they say what an excellent flyer they are; but when the teacher realizes who it is, they only give the student a score of four out of ten. There's an eccentric headmaster who is kind to the student and defends them when the mean teacher picks on them. The bully is at one point turned into an animal as well. And Tim Curry plays a character called The Grand Wizard who is a celebrity.

Obviously, I'm talking about the movie The Worst Witch, a movie which despite its shortcomings and ridiculous elements, I still love. (It has so many elements that I have always somehow adored: an all-girls boarding school in a huge old building, Halloween, black cats, uniforms with ties, English accents, pink-haired villains from Alabama, etc.) The special effects are just amazing; I really believed that the teachers could disappear with a snap and that they were actually riding their brooms! Every time a teacher flew or disappeared, the students all gasp in awe, as if seeing people do that doesn't get old after awhile at a witches' school.

The plot is this: Mildred and her best friend Maud try and do well in witch school despite the snobby know-it-all Ethel always taunting them and the teacher Ms. Hardbroom always giving them a hard time. Wizard celebrity The Grand Wizard (some of the girls have his picture in their lockers and Mrs. Hardbroom was reportedly once in love with him; there's also a scene where someone steals Ethel's picture of him and passes it around class as all of the girls sigh and faun over the photo) is coming for a visit on Halloween, the biggest holiday of the year! It is a great honor that of all the invitations he receives, he has picked this one.

The first-year girls are presented kittens as per tradition and are supposed to teach them to ride on the back of their broomsticks. Mildred does A Very Bad Thing and carries her cat in her satchel that's hanging off of the broom!!! Horror of horrors! Ethel cries, "She cheated!" and Mildred gets in trouble with the flying teacher, who shortly thereafter tells her that it's fine for her to carry the cat in her bag, which is definitely a relief because you know how much punishment one would usually incur for that offense! This teacher teaches so well and with extremely helpful methods. She says, "Welcome to your second flying lesson. Now, watch me. Get your balance, give it a tap, and away you go!" and then soars into the sky and flies around for a few minutes as the students gasp. How helpful! What was the first lesson? "This is a broom, you fly on it"?

Meanwhile, a Southern-accented woman who looks exactly like the headmistress, Miss Cackle, is loitering outside of of the school with her sidekick, plotting to take over the school. Mildred and Maud bump into them on their way to an assembly inside; you can see how sneaky these evil witches are! And their acting isn't campy at all! The pink-haired woman is Miss Cackle's identical twin, so it makes perfect sense that Miss Cackle has an English accent and this woman, Aggie, has a southern accent (Alabama is where all the bad seeds and black sheep of the family go to plot evil doings). The scene cuts back between the two plotting and cackling evilly and all of the students singing a lengthy school song. We learn that Miss Cackle's mother founded the school. The two evil witches then go to a meeting in the woods, à la Macbeth, The Crucible, or Robin Hood) and sing a song about taking over the school and making its focus evil doings and dark magic, plus bringing back (?) Aggie's school song, an up-tempo little ditty that has the chorus, "So if you're filthy (filthy!) , smelly (smelly!), evil wicked and cruel, you'll be right at home (you'll be right at home) at my little school! (Queen Aggie's school!)" Bring on the smelly students! I'm glad the school song would also be from Aggie's point of view so it would be really logical for all of the students to sing it. This scene makes me wonder if somehow, the climax of the movie is going to be Mildred saving the day and defeating these witches, then getting the recognition that she deserves????????

Ms. Hardbroom holds auditions for a synchronized broomstick team that will perform on Halloween, and Mildred makes it! Mildred's broom has an injury and she will NOT be allowed to perform on it (even though she did fine in the audition), so Ethel offers her spare broom that Mildred can use, which isn't suspicious at all! There is also a game the girls play called Terror Tag where they run around and hide places and try to make the other team scream. (So as to explain the rules to the audience, the girl in charge states them while the girls grumble, "We know the rules!" Otherwise the audience would think, "Wait, if this is such a popular game, why are they explaining the rules???") If you make a girl on the other team scream, you get a point (and somehow the girl keeping score, who reminds me of Lee Jordan commentating a Quidditch match, can tell whose scream is whose. At the end, Ethel wears a mask and makes Mildred scream continually and racks up about seven points. Mildred cries, "She CHEATED! She was wearing a MASK!" which, obviously, is a horrible horrible horrible thing to do, as masks are terrifying. This movie was based on a book, so you get the feeling that some scenes like this one were more significant and dramatic in the book because more information was given about them. Another example of this is Miss Cackle's niece who shows up for two scenes and has a New Yorker accent. When The Grand Wizard comes for Halloween, this niece, while chomping some gum, asks the flying teacher, "Do you think big daddy wiz will like the rags?"

When Halloween comes at last, The Grand Wizard flies in (and his giant pastel cloak somehow stays still and doesn't flap in the wide shots), and sings a song about Halloween, which just could be the highlight of the movie. The opening line is, "I wouldn't change places with anyone tonight/We'll carve pumpkin faces and watch the witches' flight," which makes perfect sense as he's addressing a group of witches and isn't just a regular Joe on Halloween mentioning cliché things do to. The point of the song is the sentiment that "anything can happen on Halloween," such as that "your dog could turn into a cat/There might be a toad in your bass guitar or your sister could turn into a bat." The Wizard holds up a plush red heart when he talks about every human heart shuddering. There are lines like, "Anything can happen on Halloween, it's better than a video/The goblin's gonna mess up every cassette from London to Idaho" and "Your teacher could become a sardine, your dentist could turn into a queen/Has anybody seen my tambourine?" which again makes perfect sense. But I must say that the line about the dentist is a little offensive, because it implies that dentists are lowly and common, the opposite of royalty, and mostly male, since it would be surprising enough for one to turn into a king, let alone a queen!!!

They really pull out all the stops with the green screen and video effects for this song (a reviewer on IMDB says, "I don't know which were more unbelievable, the effects or Tim Curry as a sex symbol"). The background continually changes, from hazy colors that look like a news weather report screen to a centipede to a whale's tail (when he sings the line about the sardine) to the ocean. Tim Curry waves his voluminous cloak around like a Mexican dancer swirls her skirts. He sounds a bit like David Bowie. Also, there is a David Bowie poster in one of the girls' bedrooms (but there is no other mention of him or any other pop culture). You really must hear this song and view the video effects. Your life is just not complete without it.

Then, the witches perform their broomstick act. It goes well at first, but Mildred's broom, which Ethel jinxed (which is just beyond surprising), goes haywire and messes everyone up. After this outrageous, offensive display, the Grand Wizard decides to leave, as he has "other gigs" tonight, and Mildred is sent to her room without supper (!!!!!!!). The next morning she decides to run away to prevent being expelled (?), runs into the evil witches, saves the day, etc. etc. etc. As Mildred's trying to work out a spell, the witches of course advance incredibly slowly, curling their fingers and making faces, which is an effective way for villains to quickly stop the heroes from defeating them. At the end, you see Aggie and her sidekick hitchhiking with a cardboard sign that says "Alabama," which makes sense as they're in England. The Grand Wizard comes back, asks the teachers to declare the day a "half holiday" in honor of Mildred, then asks her if she has any plans for this holiday which was just announced seconds before. Surprisingly, Mildred has no plans but to practice flying. So she and the wizard go flying as everyone gasps and oohs and awws. The End.

I don't suspect a huge conspiracy afoot, but I do think that it's interesting that it's acceptable/not questioned that a school full of girls and talented women all faun over and love a man like he's a hero and celebrity. The reason for his fame was probably explained in the book. But still, when the ultimate leader in the field is a man and the rest of the characters are female, it's just a little...weird. Also, isn't "The Grand Wizard" a title in the Klu Klux Klan??

2010-08-07T18:41:00.000-07:00

A couple of things:

1. I'm going to start writing more often. I have endless things that bounce 'round in my brain that I can write about; I just worry about doing them justice and writing them in a way that isn't too negative or dry. But I say, "HAKUNA MATATA!"

2. I don't remember the other thing. So I'll just provide a little anecdote I was going to write about anyway.

One of my favorite favorite favorite (sorry to Britons, Canadians, and Australians who see that and cringe) painters is René Magritte, a Belgian surrealist painter. Two of his most famous paintings are "Son of Man" and "The Treachery of Images," neither of which are my favorites. Bowler hats are a motif in his work. My mom was at a garage sale yesterday when she saw a framed print that appeared to have a floating bowler hat in the middle of it; she went over for a closer look, wondering if it was a Magritte. It was, but there was no floating bowler hat; it was actually the top part of an easel, which from a distance appeared to be floating since it was holding a painting of the sky which was directly in front of the sky itself. I just thought that was pretty marvelous that she thought it was a Magritte because of a detail that actually wasn't there, but it turned out to be a Magritte anyway.

By the way, some of my favorite Magritte paintings are "La Reproduction interdite" (which I first saw on the cover of a book about surrealism called Anxious Visions, and which I glued to the outside and inside of a pocket mirror!), "The Menaced Assassin," "L'empire des lumiéres," and "Personal values."

Also, I just found a sequel of sorts to "The Treachery of Images," (which is a picture of a pipe with "This is not a pipe" written below in French ["Ceci n'est pas une pipe"]) which made me chuckle. The point of the original is to say that it's not literally a pipe—it's just a picture of a pipe; a word or a picture is not the object itself. Anyway, the additional painting also has a pipe, but it's painted differently, and below it says, "Ceci continue de ne pas être une pipe," which means "This continues to not be a pipe."

3. I just remembered what I was going to say! Well, it may not be the thing I wanted to say for 2., but it's something I wanted to say: I no longer hate French!!! I'm back to normal. I've blocked that awful class from my mind and am enjoying this beautiful language again.

4. I tried to tag this as "MAGRITTE!!!" but blogger says I can't use exclamation marks in tags. Whatever.

5. Juno is now one of my favorite movies. I checked it out from the library and watched it at least four times (one with the commentary on). I love the line, "Geez Banana! Shut your friggin' gob!" That doesn't really sum up why I love the movie, as it's not just because of the quirky funny lines. But it is a line that I like and I wanted to share it, and I'd like to start using it, but I don't want to offend people (see previous post), but I shouldn't worry about that, so I'm going to say it.

Love,
Meg xoxo

Let the trolls stay under the bridge

2010-08-07T18:09:00.000-07:00

I don't know whether it's more funny or sad that if you are watching a youtube video and you scroll down to the comments, there will invariably be some sort of argument going on, with a lot of name-calling, cuss words, judgment, and little humanity or decency. (For example, every Muse video has an argument about whether Twilight is good or bad because their music inspired the author and is featured in the Twilight movies.) Anything written can be taken so many different ways, and when people assume a writer is sarcastic or angry or caustic when the author isn't (or if the author actually is), it causes strife and hurt feelings. I think people should follow the aphorism, "Seek first to understand, then to be understood" more often. You can write an essay in response to something a person didn't even mean.

It's also sad to think about the kind of people who are engaging in these virtual fights. Do they check back frequently to see if another user has retaliated? Are they online continually, perhaps picking fights on other sites or forums? Are they sad and despondent and do they feel like they're bullied? Being bullied online may be even worse than being bullied in person; a bully in person has a clear size and identity, but we can easily assign superior qualities to a faceless anonymous internet user. It's easier to assume that they're right or more powerful.

The internet has opened so many doors to the sharing of information. But it has done damage too—that isn't news. An embarrassing photo can only be shown to so many people when it's an actual print; but online, it can be shared with billions of people, who can mercilessly mock it. It is very tempting to put others down to feel better about yourself. That is the cause of bullying. But let's give people the benefit of the doubt and spend our time building people up and adding beauty to the world instead of taking the easy road: Judging, mocking, tearing down.

Although I must say, websites showcasing people's mistakes and stupidity, such as passive aggressive notes and failbook, have in a way helped me. Let me 'splain. All of my life, I am just realizing, I have had unrealistic expectations of myself. I have shunned gossip, which is a good thing. But it has actually fed that skewed vision of reality, since I then think people make fewer mistakes and bad choices than they actually do. I compare myself to others, but in truth I know little about them. These sites have helped me see that wow, I am an all-around good and kind person who is quite intelligent. And that still feels to me like boasting; I'm trusting my gut that it's not. Laughing at people's passive-aggressive notes is a great reminder to me of the importance of (face-to-face!) communication and honesty, since I am very non confrontational to the point of passivity. Seeing how useless being passive aggressive is encourages me to continue to work on being assertive. My hesitation to be assertive comes from a fear of offending people and therefore being disliked. I can never, ever prevent everyone from being offended. Someone could get mad that I say that the sky is blue, because it represents the conformity and unoriginal thinking of my generation! I think once you're at peace with the possibility of being disliked (for no logical or reasonable reason), it's far easier to be assertive and stand up for yourself.

Wow, this turned into a discussion of my insecurities. It's almost like an essay: I start with the general, provide examples which I discuss and analyze, then apply it to myself and reach a conclusion. Education, you have not failed me. And whereas before I would be troubled that I have problems with being assertive, I now see it as a victory that I even realize that I have a problem, as that's the first step to fixing it. And fixing problems is just as hard for other people as it is for me.

And let's end with something happy!

BABY MEERSCHWEINCHEN!!!!! SO SUEß!!!!!!!

2010-07-29T16:14:00.000-07:00

I once bought a chocolate bar, Hazelnuts in Milk Chocolate with 33% cocoa content, that said it had a love poem inside. This was the poem:

LOVE is enough: though the World be a-waning,
And the woods have no boice but the voice of complaining,
Though the sky be too dark for dim eyes to discover
The gold-cups and daisies fair blooming thereunder,
Though the hills be held shadows, and the sea a dark wonder,
And this day draw a veil over all deeds pass'd over,
Yet their hands shall not tremble, their feet shall not falter;
The void shall not weary, the fear shall not alter
These lips and these eyes of the loved and the lover.

William Morris

I see people enlarge the text to add emphasis on their blogs. It sometimes makes me think of Reader's Digest and how on the jokes page, they will make the punchline big and in a different color so that your eyes will probably slip to it first before reading the joke, which kind of ruins it. I guess they want to emphasize how funny the punchline is, but they actually hurt the delivery of it. Less is more, guys. Less is more. The people at Reader's Digest especially should know that.

I want to sit on the grass and blow bubbles

2010-06-10T23:56:00.001-07:00

I like to read before I go to sleep. Sometimes when I'm reading at that late hour, these brilliant ideas come to me. And then in the morning I remember them and think, That is a stupid idea.

Two examples:

1. (While reading Harry Potter) I should make my own butterbeer! All I'd have to do is heat up some cream soda and add melted butter! It would be delicious! Note: I tried this and it was very very nasty.

2. (While reading a book written by a new age guru who had found his calling in Santa Cruz, California) I want to live with the hippies in Santa Cruz! I want to be able to fit into many different groups. I want to get to know the people there, go to their clubs and their poetry readings and musical performances. and learn to be more like them. I'll just rent a studio apartment there for a summer. Maybe one of my friends would want to join me!

OK, I still do want to go to Santa Cruz and hang with the hippies. I've hesitated to go some places because I would seem too out of place to the people there. But they don't know me! They don't know my whole history or why I'm there. If I'm confident, it won't matter because they'll accept me. If you think you don't fit in, you won't.

Someday, hippies. Someday.

"Why do doughnuts have to die?"

2010-06-01T18:48:00.000-07:00

I enjoy the quirky, the surreal, and the intelligent. For this reason, I actually like seemingly nonsensical lyrics; even if the original artist didn't put any thought into them actually making sense, I believe anyone can find his or her own meaning in them (as we can with all works of art—I'm big on reader response criticism [though I don't think the artist's original intent should be ignored]). I think elements that are apparently put together randomly creat juxtapositions that speak the truth and are artistic. I'm into multi-media art and use words and pages from books (that I get at the thriftstore) often. On my last project, I used passages from Paradise Lost for example. At first I tried to carefully craft the combination of words, but I realized that I could find maybe even more meaning by just letting the arrangement speak for itself; and the same combination of words to me may mean something completely different to someone else.

On a similar note, I recently watched a video satirizing the song "Fireflies" by Owl City; it's a song called "Electronic Wuss" and makes fun of the lyrics and breathy way he sings. I actually do like the original song and I still liked this video! It contains the lines, "I'm just singing random words" and "prepubescent girls think I'm so deep."

One example of nonsensical lyrics in "Electronic Wuss" are, "the ocean's constellations make me cry." Some people could say that makes no sense. I can find a meaning in it: The "ocean's constellations" are really the reflections of actual constellations in the sky. They could make you cry because 1. You want to be able to literally/figuratively touch the stars, they seem so close and you get your hopes up, but you can't actually touch them or 2. They're something that's so beautiful but are only an illusion. It does sound a bit melodramatic though, to cry at the reflection of constellations (although you could say he's crying for the principle of being just out of reach of your goal or finding what you want to be just an illusion).

Another line from "Electronic Wuss" I have a harder time taking seriously and making sense of: "I ask the strong man in the sky, 'Why do doughnuts have to die?'" This is clearly supposed to be funny, but I'll take a whack at making sense of it. The "strong man" is God. He is strong, obviously, because he is powerful and can create everything. You could also say he's strong because he doesn't cry over the ocean's constellations or worry about the death of doughnuts—he's emotionally strong enough to not let it bother him. Why doughnuts? Because they're seemingly inconsequential in the scheme of things, yet they die, which is a serious thing. Also, it's showing that not only do the great and powerful die, but the lowest of the low, namely doughnuts, are also claimed by death. In addition, we don't think of doughnuts as being alive, but apparently he thinks they are; doughnuts symbolize creatures or objects that are "less than human" that we pay no respect to. OK, yes, those lyrics are funny but you can still find a meaning in them! And I just watched the original video and some of it seems extremely silly now (why are fireflies hugging you and teaching you how to dance?).

I really like the album Pretty. Odd. by Panic at the Disco; their sound is much different in these songs than in their previous ones. Once people started comparing them to The Beatles, I realized why I liked this album (er, record. I'm trying to be cool like the DJs are) (The Beatles are my favorite band). This album also contains a lot of apparently "random words" but that still lend themselves to many different meanings. I like writing songs (mainly lyrics. I'm starting to write music now that I've taken music theory), but sometimes they become too long and I can't find a way to end them or they're awkwardly rhymed. One thing I like about this album is that not all of the words rhyme—it's more like blank verse. I wanted to come up with creative odd lyrics too, but creativity can't be forced. Then I noticed that really, the lyrics could easily be finished madlibs. I decided to make madlibs lyrics! Even though the words and order are completely random, there are ways that the words still make sense and create symbols.

Here's two examples of lyrics from the song called "From a Mountain in the Middle of the Cabins":

"Lying there with a halo in her hair she cries, there are feathers everywhere but it's fine, you do this all the time."

"Watch love get tangled by a kite's cold strings; Fall comes early and Summer leaves."
[Kites to me represent whimsy and lightheartedness, which is at odds with the strings being cold and strangling love. Kites have a darker side! Or being up in the air makes them cold. Good times end sooner than expected. Sad.]

These are the lyrics I created by making a madlibs version for each of those two examples (and then fixing them up a bit):

"It's thrilling under a bridge in the microcosm over their goose. He marvels. Scooters in Wisconsin? Or its shiny cemetery Kolibri skips merrily."

"Watch a panda become perfumed of an ounce of silly lily. Blitzkrieg twirls secretly but glitz sleeps."

Thank you and good night.

"

We ultimately have Gregor Mendel to thank for this

2010-05-22T18:34:00.000-07:00

Recently I've become so tired an annoyed with generic rock music, where the chords don't even sound like notes and the lyrics are insipid. I get tired of flipping stations. Now, I think music is just like every other art; there are masterpieces lauded my many, there are less accessible masterpieces that people of a certain taste like, there is good mainstream, there is stupid mainstream. Both Picasso's Guernica and this are paintings, but they're definitely of different quality. Good art remains in the public conscious for centuries. Note that I am in no way mocking that second painting; if you liked that saying, it would be pretty if you wanted to hang it in your home. I think it's cooler to make your own decorations than to buy them. I paint and I'm sure my paintings look ridiculous to some people (I have had someone laugh at them), and I can't paint people realistically yet, but I enjoy it so that's all that matters.

There is some art that may be uncomfortable or difficult to read look at or listen to, but it's important to expose yourself to these works because they are enriching. Music can sound discordant and really, really weird but still be "good." Then of course, there is regular commercial music which ranges from the brilliant to the equivalent of horribly rancid garbage. I don't listen to the garbage (and I'm not even referencing lyrics here. I'm talking about instrumentation that is completely computer generated [not for artistic effect but for convenience/laziness] and inane and music that is clearly cranked out without any thought just to reach the masses [example: those mediocre/bad songs that, after the hit singles are taken out, make up the whole album of a pop star]. Art is like food; the stuff that's good for you may not be as instantly gratifying and tasty, but it's most nourishing. Good commercial music is like healthy snacks. And bad commercial music is like junk food. And I'm tired of eating junk food!

I don't think I have sophisticated music tastes. I do like songs that are catchy. I admire the craftsmanship of hooks and chord progressions that make music infectious. Songs I like need to have both lyrical and musical merit to me (there is no song that I will say "I just like the beat" about). I decided to analyze what some current favorite songs have in common. (By "current favorite songs" I mean music that I can listen to over and over and love. They might not be My Favorite Songs Of All Time). I compiled a list of 45 songs and then used Pandora to see what "genomes" these songs had in common. How were the songs related? Sister? Parent? Aunt?

The findings may not be completely accurate because 1. Pandora gives about five of the characteristics for each song and what really makes me like them may be one of the other hundred 2. I don't know why those characteristics are chosen. I was guessing that they're the main qualities of the songs. But some songs' characteristics, for example, mentioned lyrics and some of the ones that did not mention lyrics are songs I love primarily for the words! One song had "heartbreaking lyrics." Another had "great lyrics." I don't know how they define those, because the lyrics that were labeled "great" could also be labeled "heartbreaking" (the song is "Fake Plastic Trees" by Radiohead, by the way). Anyway, I made a little chart. Here are characteristics that at least two songs share (so since only one song was said to have "great lyrics" that characteristic isn't on there).

As you can see, some of the characteristics are quite generic (how many songs do you know that have "upbeat lyrics"?). I almost didn't include "major key tonality" because the majority of songs out there are; I included it to contrast it with the number of songs in a minor key. I think the ratio of minor key to major key is above average, meaning I have more of a taste for songs in a minor key than most people. I learned a word, "antiphony," which means call-and-repeat style singing. Here are some of the songs on my list of 45: "There Is A Light That Never Goes Out,", "Barcelona" (this is a fab music video, by the way!), "Your Love," "Viva La Vida," "Misery Business," "Lazy Eye," "Losing My Religion," and "Hey Bulldog."

I'm on my way

2010-05-22T17:10:00.000-07:00

The other day while I was driving, I thought that I saw glass in the street from a car accident, but it was only jacaranda blossoms.

Should've, could've--all of those coulds are just rearranged clouds.

2010-05-14T16:56:00.000-07:00

I'm trying to post some of the poetry and stuff I usually don't share; I've been afraid that it's really no good or that it will look like I'm just trying to get compliments or something. It feels good to just release my work into the internet ether.

This is my submission to the annual PTA Reflections contest from my junior year. I had entered art and poetry many years that would sometimes progress to the next level, but this was my first submission of a short story, and it went the farthest of anything I submitted—it went to state level! I got a nice little medal! And that made me think of Napoleon's assertion that "It is with such baubles that men are led." The following is a work of fiction has has been left unedited from the original version (so there may be grammatical errors).

The Rose Room

As I trod the boards coated heavily with dust, I cautiously listend and felt for any disturbance—a shifting downstairs, a thrill of a breeze through the window. I ventured over to the window; a black wood sash quartered its panes empty of glass, and faded linen curtains whirled in with the wind. An idea sparked in my mind. I walked across the attic to the opposite wall, my riding boots thumping across the soft, aged boards. There stood a trunk with a brassy gold lock, which I flicked open; the whole trunk then opened, creaking on its old brass hinges, and I gently pushed its lid to help it up. The outside was a faded pink with burnished, gold gilding in the shape of roses, vines, and leaves. From the trunk, I extracted some deep, dusky rose ruffled curtains, folded neatly. I crossed the room again, my boots thumping softly, and I set the curtains down on a Victorian doll house; they started slipping down the angled roof, so I quickly scooped them up and placed them on the seat of an antique rocking horse.

Now, I gently lifted the curtain rod, on which the linen curtains were hanging, down off of its hooks. I gently slid the old curtains off, neatly folded them, and gently dropped them to the floor—I would take them downstairs to be laundered. Presently, I descended down to the dusty floor and rested on my knees and threaded the deep, dusky rose curtains across the rod, which was black with gold-gilded knobs. Before I could stand up, the room flooded with light, which glinted off the glass of an old oil lamp on a carved wooden dresser across the room; the clouds had quietly traveled to the east to reveal the sun in its blinding glory. Shielding my eyes, I stood hastily up and replaced the curtain rod onto its white hooks. Suddenly, the light shifted to a soft glow visible through the dark rose, well-worn fabric.

Surveying the attic around me, it became more than a storage room. Here were the antiques and heirlooms from bygone eras all together in one room, transcending all time periods. Here I could discover beautiful trinkets from global markets around the world from the comfort of my aunt's dusty attic.

The roses curtains filtered the sunlight and breathed beauty into a dusty room. I closed my eyes and let the uncountable smells drift toward me; this one reminded me of my grandma's bathroom, this one made me think of lilacs, this one took me to a rose garden full of square rose plots, evenly spaced—they all had a story to tell, and I could listen for hours.

My eyes alighted on a white bookshelf coated in dust, and I quickly ran over to it, gently pushing aside a white wire headboard of a daybed to get to it. Inside were dusty volumes with rich covers decked in gold lettering, photo albums covered in decorative dried flowers, and large fairy-tale picture books. I selected a tome from the top right-hand corner shelf and let the weighty pages fall open. rushing off the dust, I discovered a description of livestock in Scotland. After replacing the book, I sniffed around on the floor beside the bookshelf and discovered what looked like a cross between a miniature hat box and jewelry box. I couldn't find a latch, so I brought it to the deep dusky rose-curtained window to let it into the light. A breeze swept in through the window as I sprang the top open; fresh rose petals, the contents of the box, swirled around the center of the room, dancing in the wind. I laughed joyfully and freely as I joined in dancing, whirling in circles with the rose petals. When the breeze swept to the other corners of the room, I scooped up the rose petals, replaced them in their box, closed the lid, and patted it admiringly.

Just as I was going to put it back by the bookshelf, I halted suddenly; the idea had struck me to wait for another breeze to stir up the petals to whirl giddily. I waited excitedly and shooed the thought out of my mind that I was being foolish. No breeze came, and I replaced the box. I carefully chose another volume on the bookshelf—a deep, dusky rose diary with ages unwritten. I settled myself cross-legged on the floor, took out a pen from my pocket, and composed what I have just told you.

---------

Reading this, I can't help but analyze. There are motifs—gilding, roses (the flowers), rose (the color), things being "neat" (there is both the phrased "neatly folded" and "folded neatly"). This was also the year I learned how to use semicolons and dashes—a practice that still exists today; you can see it from this sentence I'm writing now. It's a very simple story, but it really represents my personality. Getting lost in libraries and exploring unique places are loves of mine.

p.s. I thought up the title when I misspelled the word "could." And I misspelled the word "misspell" when I wrote that sentence.

Be warned: Crepe paper does not taste like crêpes

2010-05-13T14:01:00.000-07:00

Two haiku:

lilacs on the shore
swept to and fro by the wind
haunt my days and nights

do you want to know
my first thought when i saw you?
"why is her hair blonde?"

And something I don't know what to label (thought? poem? emo musing?):

paper with burnt edges is pretty
only in death does it look exquisite

A splendid time is guaranteed for all

2010-05-04T00:16:00.000-07:00

When I am most depressed, laughing is what makes me feel better. The descriptions of Harry Potter fan fiction are what make me feel better. "Ronald's Magical World of Hairstyling." I have no disrespect for the people who write these stories. But I am glad that they write them, because they do entertain me.

Now don't bother me for awhile, because I'm reading about how Sirius and Lupin are in love and James will be angry if he finds out!!!!!!!!!!!!! OMG DRAMA!

On the subject of retrograde objects

2010-05-03T18:50:00.000-07:00

"Vintage" is in style. This is a fact. I know it's an annoyance when people say, "Oh, I liked [that band] before they were popular" or "I liked [that trend] before everyone was doing it," but I say that I have enjoyed retro clothing, jewelry, items, etc. since at least middle school. I say this as a way of expressing my love of and deep devotion to all things "retro." I like shopping at thrift stores better than department stores. When I was in high school, my friend's younger brother told her that I always looked like I was from some other time period.

Vintage is the buzz word. And it's becoming annoying. Never mind if something is actually old or resembles something that's old; as long as it's different then you can say it's "vintage." Are these owl earrings really "vintage?" I didn't know wearing plastic owl earrings used to be trendy; poodle skirts I've heard of, owl earrings I haven't. I've also seen fabric flowers called "vintage." I suppose if the fabric is old and of a pattern that's not seen nowadays, you could call it "vintage." It is a real possibility that I'm just ignorant of these former trends, but I have never heard of fabric flower brooches before. People just seem to tack on the word "vintage" to make something seem hip.

I've said before that the surreal is only interesting because it isn't real; it's not the object itself that is interesting because if that exact same object actually existed no one would bat an eyelash. I feel drawn to vintage things in much the same way: It's not the rotary phone itself that is fab--it's fab because it's uncommon and unique and charming. I realize that things I do every day will, in the future, be seen as quaint and lovely. When I type on this computer, I think that future generations will find the internet of today primitive and our computers and keyboards clunky. Horse-drawn carriages are romantic now, but when they were the norm they weren't so grand. Flipping on a light switch or driving a gasoline-fueled car is commonplace and boring, but in the future people will install light switches to be old-fashioned just as we light candles today. Candles used to be necessary to see; now they are merely ambiance. Sealing wax and quill pens are cool because they make letters have flair and old-fashioned charm because we have lost the art of letter writing. Letters used to be necessary to communicate.

I still like vintage pieces because they're unique and, in my opinion, classier than clothing is today. Wearing vintage is a way to dress uniquely in this world of mass-produced clothing where you might run into a total stranger wearing the same shirt that you bought from Target.

A raven is a crow, but a crow is not necessarily a raven (just so you know)

2010-05-03T18:31:00.000-07:00

This past weekend, I participated in a dance concert. During the course of this weekend my friend, a gay male dancer, told me I did my stage makeup really well and my other friend, an older woman from the former Soviet Union, told me that I was a hard worker.

Without a shield the world is spinning, from cotton fields to ferris wheels

2010-04-15T23:00:00.000-07:00

I'm waiting for a secret bomb to drop. I don't know if when it explodes it will produce a mushroom cloud or if it will rain flowers. I keep imagining the flowers; but I'm terrified of getting the a-bomb and completely crumbling.

So I'm trying to imagine the bad news already came. I wrote a couple songs about it as if it already came. But I just can't stop imagining the flowers. And I write words, but I'm not good at crafting melodies. So most songs just stay in my notebooks and are never sung because they have no tune. I guess I need a collaborator? But I'm self conscious about my songs. But I'm learning to not be so self conscious. It's an uphill battle. One day Sisyphus will get that rock up the hill and it will stay there!

But really—if I do all the mourning in advance, if the bad news comes can I get over it sooner?

Probably not.

I guess the secret is learning to not be devastated by bad news. If you base your happiness on what other people think of you, your happiness will be volatile at best. It seems convenient because you in a way don't have any responsibility over it. And you can convince yourself that you can convince the other people to look at you favorably. But you can never ever change somebody's mind.

Oh when will it rain?

2010-04-10T22:48:00.000-07:00

I thought that quitting would be giving up. But it was liberating!
I withdrew from my torturous French class!

Luckily, it wasn't torturous because it was difficult. It was only difficult to hold in the scream of frustration from listening to a lecture for about 20 minutes, then working in pairs to do unrealistic, contrived, cliché (see, that's French!) textbook exercises for at least an hour, hearing unclear explanations, from utter baffledosity at the fact that this was third-year French and we were studying how to introduce oneself, talk about food, name the members of one's family and hadn't learned past tense yet.

AAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

But I admit that I still feel guilty that I never expressed my frustration to my professor. I hate confrontation and making people mad. I figured too much time had passed to ask her if she could reform her teaching style just a bit. I thought I would be insulting her and appear ungrateful. Water under the bridge, water under the bridge, water under the bridge. (Literally, l'eau sous le pont. None of those words did I learn from this class).

The very sad thing is that quite honestly I detest French right now. I have loved it, at least since I began learning it in high school. French movies, French music, French posters delighted me. Now, I connect it to that awful class and I cringe when I hear it. It's very, very sad. I planned to buy a Harry Potter book in French. But when I picked up and started to read Harry Potter et le Prisonnier d'Azkaban, I wasn't interested. All I can remember reading is "asked Ron." Bleh.

Well, here's some cheerful news:

The first thing that I thought when I saw these petites fleurs was "merry!"

More cheerful news: Saying "little flowers" in French (ugh. I still hate that word!!!) and making the tags in...the dreaded language...actually helped me to like it more. The connotation was always whimsy and romance and novelty—songs, movies, and posters, bike rides through the streets of Paris, sunflowers in the South. I have to distance the definition of...the f-word...from that class. (shudder).

And here's a pretty photo from the Arboretum. It was looking up to the sky from the middle of a piece of artwork made out of branches.

And bobby pins don't open locks, no matter what the movies say

2010-03-27T22:08:00.000-07:00

I love surrealism. I am tickled to death to imagine falling down a rabbit hole, meeting a man with a birdcage for a torso, or jumping into the ocean only to realize it's the sky of another world. Read my quotation on the left side of this blog. I like this quotation. That's why it's there.

But what is surreality? Is it the opposite of reality? Or just something above reality? I think it's the latter; from what I've seen of surrealism, it's based on reality but surpasses it somehow. One of my favourite paintings is L'empire des Lumières by one of my favourite artists, René Magritte. The sky is blue and has clouds in it; there are streetlamps, and there are houses. But it is never night and day at the same time in the same place; the elements in the painting are not made up—they're merely marvelous, that is to say above and beyond reality.

But what if, as Monsieur Breton wants, surreality becomes reality? Then it is not surreality any more. It has become reality and is therefore ordinary.

The surreal is only the surreal because it is not possible. It is not found in real life.

Being able to fly sounds amazing. But the act of flying isn't what's fantastic; flying's only fantastic because we can't do it.

My aunt is visiting this week with her own aunt. My aunt said that when she was young, she would go over to the house of her aunt, who would make her pink lemonade. Her aunt had a lemon tree in the backyard. Her aunt told her that this was no ordinary lemon tree: These lemons were pink inside! That's how she made pink lemonade! On no account was the frozen pink lemonade in a can that my aunt's mother made the same exact lemonade that her aunt made from her special pink lemons; her aunt's lemonade definitely tasted better!

I would love to grow pink lemons on a tree—a tree whose branches and leaves are pruned into a perfect circle.

But pink lemons don't exist. And if they did, I wouldn't want to grow them, because then they'd be real.

Surrealism is an unfulfilled longing. The minute you attain the surreal, it is no longer surreal; its very identity changes.

So we must be content for our most delirious dreams to never come true. Because we wouldn't be happy if they did. As long as the surreal remains on canvas, on film, in the mind, it is fantastic, marvelous, beautiful, and extraordinary.

I'm sorry M. Breton, but your dream will never come true. And that makes me terribly sad.

What do you think? Can we attain the surreal? Or does it slip through our fingers the moment we do?

p.s. In French, realité means "reality" and sur means "above." So what is anti-realité? The first thought that came to mind was the ancient world in the story "The Call of Cthulhu" by H.P. Lovecraft; the creatures that sleep there are in no way found in our world, and the geometry is all wrong there. I think that means that their laws of physics are different from ours, and so is their math.

p.p.s. "Cthulhu" is pronounced Cuh-THOO-loo.

p.p.p.s. I think the realisation of the surreal is represented in the closing lines of T.S. Eliot's "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock":

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea

By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown

Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

The moment that you wake up from the dream or the separate world below (not under) the ocean, i.e. when human voices—real people, or reality—wake you up, you immediately drown. The illusion is gone. And reality kills you because you had grown accustomed to make-believe. You thought that you could breath underwater.

Do you think the linked comic is sad? Or funny? I'd always found it beautiful in a melancholic way, but my mom laughed when she saw it. But then again, paintings I find depressing she thinks are pretty.

Isn't it amazing that I just thought of that comic now? I wasn't even thinking of it when I wrote the first paragraph or quoted the poem. How does this all tie in so perfectly? Maybe because just today I decided to accept that one of my unalienable rights as a human being is to receive mysteriously useful omens on a regular basis.

I can't even win a game of chess played against myself

2010-03-27T21:43:00.000-07:00

Why do journals come with locks on them? Because we are afraid someone will find them, read our very personal thoughts, and never want to talk to us again. True, if I write that "Becky is a stupid meanie head and I hope she dies!" and Becky reads that, she will be smad; but although I may feel that way about Becky on Wednesday, by Friday I may have forgiven her. And really, does it matter if someone thinks you're a stupid meanie head?

It has to me. Maybe some people don't notice because I do quite wacky things on a regular basis; I think this is why when I posted "I hope when I'm an old lady I can ride around in my electric cart with a giant flag on it wearing a hat and not care what anyone thinks of me" as status on facebook, a friend from high school said, "I thought you already did that." That is one of the best compliments I've ever gotten! But verily, verily the wacky things I do, such as do interpretive dances to classical music, are not so wacky to me. The really weird things are what I'm afraid of doing and people judging me for. In truth, they really aren't that weird either. Honestly, I would like to wear a graduation cap and gown to school. But that would be weird. And people might not take me seriously.

Recently, I read Dandelion Wine by Ray Bradbury, which inspired me to live. I decided to climb a tree in the park across from my school. Why? Because I wanted to, that's why! I was wearing a dress, and people were walking in the park. I would wait until they had passed until I tried to make any more progress (I am extremely slow because my fear of heights is so great). Then I played a little "what if?" game. I thought, "What if someone sees me?" Then they might think I'm stupid. "What if someone thinks I'm stupid?" Well, I would think that I'm not, because it's not that stupid to climb a tree, even wearing a dress. "But what if they make fun of you and treat you differently?" Well, I thought, I'd rather be made fun of for doing something I love than accepted for being a conformist. The most it would affect me if I did something unusual is that people would treat me disrespectfully and not take me seriously. And "what if they treat me disrespectfully?" Well, hate and negativity is a power, I believe. Others can direct it at you and you can absorb it; but if you have a shield of self-assurance, their hateful energy can't get to you. The hate will only consume them and not harm you. When you hate, you might hurt someone else, but you always damage yourself.

And spending time with people who think what I do is stupid isn't healthy for me anyway. Honestly, why do I value their opinion over my own? And these people are complete strangers, whom I will probably never see again.

Or here's an idea: Maybe, just maybe, someone will see me climbing a tree and think that I'm on to something. She will look at me and think that climbing a tree was a good idea; he will think that I'm graceful even in a dress. She will think I'm so cool for sitting barefoot in a tree wearing a dress reading a book.

This is half the battle—making my thinking positive. The epiphany honestly struck me while writing this that if someone saw me doing something unusual, their reaction wouldn't just be limited to disgust and neutrality; they could also think something positive about me.

You know what? I love sitting in trees wearing dresses and reading books!

I thought that I heard you laughing

2010-03-22T19:01:00.000-07:00

I saw a patch of flowers walking into church. I wonder who first came up with the idea to pick flowers so he could carry them around with him or put them on display indoors? I wonder who was the first one to actually pick one. And I wonder if he realized that once he picked it it would die?

Then I remembered this:

"Ah!" cried Miriam, and she looked at Paul, he dark eyes dilating. He smiled. Together they enjoyed the field of flowers. Clara, a little way off, was looking at the clowslips disconsolately. . . .Miriam plucked the flowers lovingly, lingering over them. He always seemed to her too quick and almost scientific. Yet his bunches had a natural beauty more than hers. He loved them, but as if they were h is and he had a right to them. She had more reverence for them: they held something she had not.

The flowers were very fresh and sweet. He wanted to drink them. As he gathered them, he ate the little yellow trumpets. Clara was still wandering about disconsolately. Going towards her, he said:

"Why don't you get some?"

"I don't believe in it. They look better growing."

"But you'd like some?"

"They want to be left."

"I don't believe they do."

"I don't want the corpses of flowers about me," she said.

"That's a stiff, artificial notion," he said. "They don't die any quicker in water than on their roots. And besides, they LOOK nice in a bowl--they look jolly. And you only call a thing a corpse because it looks corpse-like."

"Whether it is one or not?" she argued.

"It isn't one to me. A dead flower isn't a corpse of a flower."

Clara now ignored him.
--D.H. Lawrence, Sons and Lovers, p. 452-453

I bought a bunch of pompom flowers and divided them up among vases. I planned to make a flower crown with them eventually. On Thursday, I did. It was lovely! Some people found it strange, but more people complimented me on it, even the florist on 2nd Street!

The Golden Apple

2010-02-20T13:58:00.000-08:00

Do you remember that day after the tournament when I said, "Let's go pick a golden apple."? And you said, "From a tree?"

And I said, "No, from the sky."

Well, we never found that apple
   but we found much more
    a river full of dreams
   and a tree that never sleeps
   And a sheep that
   counts to the moon
And we also found each other
   Right there
   On the hill
   Where we had lain before—
   I making flower chains,
   You slumbering as a cool
   breeze rippled across
   your face as the warm
   sun beat down on your
   cheeks
And then I ran and hid behind a tree
And when you were awoken by the sound of my absence you ran and
found me right away.
And we climbed that tree together
and looked at the sky
through the branches
And we said that right then we wished we
   were clouds
   pushed by the breeze
or else the grass
   so still and quiet and
   whispering

There we were surrounded
by sky and the universe
stretched out before us and
We were swallowed whole

But we were only pretending
   to sleep
And pretending to dream
about the tree crashing
down and us falling
until a breeze caught
us up and flew us
to Heaven, by way of
   the sunrise and the
flowers that are always
singing

And you tipped your hat to me and said you'd
made your decision:
You'd rather be the wind rustling through the
grass whispering
   quickly its secrets
   to the blades and
dirt as it swept up
the dirt to add more
freckles to the Earth

Did you know that the
moon taught the sun how to
sing? He may have
given her his light
   but she's the one who
taught him how to
sing such sweet songs.
         Love.

A fresh breeze

2010-02-20T13:27:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I stepped out of my front door and saw the sky—pearly and glowing. The wind was fresh and rifled through the leaves. It was such a beautiful day that it made me want to cry.

BYU to-do list #3

2010-02-20T13:25:00.000-08:00

Check out the Experimental Music Club
Check out the Experimental Theater Club

Those are my kind of people.

The best music videos in the world

2010-01-14T14:05:00.000-08:00

#3: David Hasselhoff's "Hooked on a Feeling"

#2: Armi & Danny's "I Wanna Love You Tender"

and, perhaps my favorite music video of all time,

#1 Bonnie Tyler's "Total Eclipse of the Heart"

This one I'm actually starting to understand on a deep, metaphorical level which concerns me quite a lot.

Glee

2009-12-21T03:41:00.000-08:00

Do you know what would be nice? To live near 800 N and University: I'd be right near the Amanda Knight hall, which I love looking at, and near University Avenue, the duck pond....It would be lovely! I wish I were in Provo so that I could scope out these places to live. I wish I could go see that rose cottage/secret garden to see if it's wonderful. I may visit in the Spring for conference, but I should get housing before that. Hmmmm. I'll find something near 800 and University.

Teacups on branches

2009-12-21T03:34:00.000-08:00

My first year at BYU was also my first year in Relief Society; it was quite different to have all of your peers be in your own age range. The room did not smell like perfume at the end of the hour.

The Relief Society president in that ward was an exquisite person and quite an influence on me. She was concerned about members of the ward but never overbearing or pushy [she once told me she was concerned that the girl I visit taught hadn't come the last two Sundays and could I please visit her? There was no blame, just honest concern]. She smiled easily and had a sweet, confidant air. She sent us whimsical e-mails every so often–one included a link to this lovely, surreal music video. I remember one about the new year containing her resolution to wear fun tights more often. So cool! It wasn't serious or self deprecating; it wasn't about weight loss or fixing some personality flaw. It was refreshing.

E. started calling me Anthropologie Girl because she admired the way I dressed; she said my outfits looked like they were from Anthropologie, which I'd never heard of before. "Oh, don't start– it's expensive, and I got into it. Their stuff is so lovely, but it's just not good," she cautioned me.

I decided to visit Anthropologie's website and was pleasantly mesmerized by their creative photography: It was spring, and one photo included teacups hanging on branches, I believe. It was whimsical. The clothes were lovely too but yes, out of my normal price range. But they were still beautiful and definitely things that I would wear.

I decided to visit their website again to see what I could find. What's this? The front page is telling me about a look that incorporates winter fabrics with year-round style? Um, that's exactly what I was thinking about recently! Look at that school-boy blazer! And tights! Lovely! Some categories include tweed + silk and checks + roses [and it's in the same font that I use]. The photography is amazing: To me, it captures a time in the past where things were more whimsical, or perhaps a hidden place where teacups are hung on tree branches that you just have to find by chance when you're in the right frame of mind.

And what's this? There's a general category called marvels & wonders! I click on it, and it's objects like a giraffe bust and a keepsake memory box papered with old engineering articles. I look at it and think, "I'll make that!" like I often do. But marvels and wonders–what a phrase. It sounds like a name of a blog. Perhaps I'll change mine. It sounds like a carnival.

The Anthropologie photography also reminds me that I want to make a pinhole camera and should do that. And I love certain styles of photography and would love to emulate them if I only had the right camera and enough skill. Then I realize that why not? Why not take a photography class next semester? Then I can shoot my dreams for real. Some interests I cast aside because I assume everyone would want to be a good photographer and I'll never make it because I wouldn't be good enough. But I'm realizing that my interests are shared by many people, but not all people, and sometimes not even the majority. I can be at the bottom of the class, as long as I'm actually in the class.

Also, I just heard about a music /art festival in England called the Secret Garden Party. What a name! It combines Secret Garden and garden party to become something new: A garden party that is secret, or maybe a party in a secret garden. I love secret gardens. By the way, listed on BYU's off-campus housing site is a house called Rose Cottage/Secret Garden???? Geeeeee! Could I live there? I don't know if I'd like a house. Oh, and I just checked and rent is expensive. But if it really is a rose cottage/secret garden....then I would have secret garden parties and keep my teacups in the trees.

BYU to-do list #3

2009-12-21T02:57:00.000-08:00

Take bowling as a class.
Go for frequent walks and bike rides south and southwest of campus (near historic downtown Provo).
Write letters on Sundays.
Take fewer credits than I have ever before–in the 12 to 14 range!!!
Take it easy.

Love Letters

2009-12-21T02:54:00.000-08:00

Love letters I have yet to write.
Like letters, yes. I have written thought-I-was-in-love letters, but never sent them. Apology letters, angry letters (those I didn't send), to-my-future-self letters, I've written them all. But love letters I've yet to write.
In red ink. In cursive. On parchment.
With a red wax seal of a heart or something similar.

    Come to my house when there's a red rose wreath shaped like a heart on the door–I'll have made it.
    Come inside, and I'll write you a letter.

BYU To-Do List #2

2009-12-08T18:24:00.000-08:00

Take a language class every semester [in addition to the ones required by my major]. Possibilities: accelerated (101 + 102) Latin , accelerated Spanish, Russian. That's all for now.

Speaking of Spanish, yesterday I saw a shirt that said Yo tengo el novio mas guapo. I knew for sure that it said "I have." I knew mas meant more and thought that guapo meant handsome. I guessed that ending with "more handsome" was how you constructed the superlative in Spanish. So then I filled in that novio, especially since there was a heart over the "i," meant boyfriend. I looked it up, and it does indeed mean boyfriend, fiancé, or groom. So I can say with some confidence that the shirt in English would say: I have the most handsome boyfriend. Amiright?

Ode to the 100 Hour Board

2009-12-03T15:06:00.000-08:00

I have been reading BYU's 100 Hour Board almost every day for the past two years, since I discovered it as a fluke because I saw the link on the Newsnet page (I was probably on that page to look up a letter to the editor which had aggravated me). I like that it allows inquisitive people to come together and learn. I like the variety of the questions that are asked (dating advice, doctrinal questions, questions about BYU life, historical questions, requests for music suggestions, etc.). I like the unique personalities that write for the Board.

Last year, I went on a trip to the Spanish Fork Hare Krishna temple with a Board writer and fellow readers because of this question; it was a wonderfully spontaneous and whimsical thing to do, since I was going to an exotic location with a group of strangers (whom I trusted). I must admit it was kind of weird talking to other people who read the Board, since I personally knew of only one other person who had even heard of it.

Recently, I had a similarly serendipitous experience with the Board. I asked this question because last year my roommate had come home after just seeing this art exhibit and raved about it, which made me want to see it. She had written down the artist's statement and had sketched one of the pictures and described it to me in detail; it sounded amazing. I went to the HFAC the following day to look at it, but the previous day had been the last day. It was sad. Since then, I actually read the poem "the Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" and have fallen in love with it. I cut 8.5 x 11 pieces of paper in half and wrote lines from the poem on them in tempera paint and stuck them to the walls in my room. I remembered this exhibit and realized I could ask the Board to see if I could see it. I would have gone to the HFAC in person to ask about it, but I'm in another state right now.

Everyday I became excited with the anticipation that the question would be answered. When it finally was, I was quite disappointed since I wasn't on campus to go and talk to the man personally and because I hadn't actually seen it [which I made it sound like in my question for conciseness' sake] and couldn't even remember if they actually had been photos and not paintings. Instead of becoming too disappointed or obsessive about it, I decided to let it go for now.

Then, lo and behold, a comment came a week later and made my dream come true. A random stranger had helped me out most miraculously through the illustrious 100 Hour Board. Amazing! It made me realize once again what a wonderful thing the Board is–its ability to unite inquisitive people with others willing to help them is quite fantastic.

Here is the exhibit in case you want to see it too. My favorite photo is the title one.

The Earth laughs in flowers.

2009-11-30T02:55:00.001-08:00

From yourwedding101.com: "Orange blossoms signify purity, daisies loyalty, violets modesty and red roses signify true love." I just really like that sentence.

BYU to-do list #1

2009-11-27T17:35:00.000-08:00

Third post in the same day! Because I just made this blog today! And there's been too much stuff floating around in my brain [this is my pensieve].

I've been coming up with ideas about what I'm going to make sure to do upon my return to BYU to make the experience more enjoyable this time. So this will be a little series with some posts from time to time. Or maybe every day. Because that's the way my mind works.

Live on/close to University Avenue
Express my interest in working at the Flower Basket [see why: a board question I asked]
Go to the weekly Honors lectures [I used to take it as a class. And I would feel stressed about going in later semesters because I felt that I should and that most people would agree. But no! Attending those lectures is not fun to everyone. It's not something like brushing your teeth that is extremely advisable for everyone. It's something you go to if you like it. Once that pressure of "oh man I'm doing something wrong if I'm not going" is off, I will enjoy going more. And not feel stressed at all if I don't.
Go to philosophy club [same day and time as the Honors lectures. Ditto to what I said about the lectures--I'll go when I want to and won't stress when I don't.
Go to swing club on Tuesdays and not worry about dancing awkwardly and/or like a dork.

I had some other things I was going to list, but then the list starts sounding like things I MUST do or that I'm REQUIRED to do, and that starts stressing me out. These are all optional things that I'd like to do.