A Growth Chart

So far:

I came home to Provo and reunited with friends.

I moved into a fantastic ward.

I played piano at my friend's wedding.
I wrote letters and songs and poems.

I went to lunch in Maddison's studio.

I made clouds and rain and hung them around Velour.

I met a boy who liked my music.
He told me his name and then kissed me.

He said he loved me and met my family.

He doesn't see us getting married.

I listened to Pasty Cline for three weeks after.

I talked with Pearl and met her kittens.
I saw the Head and the Heart when they came to Provo.
I watched a beautiful sunset over Utah Valley from the hill at the edge of campus.
I don't see us getting married either.
Sam sent me a letter, and it was good.
I went to BKDG at Laura's house.

I went to Arizona for Thanksgiving and played with my sister.
I came back and kept taking pictures of a tree by the Maeser.
I went on a train ride in Colorado with some dear friends.
I took some tests and wrote some papers.
I learned some Christmas songs and played "Pie Jesu" at the Christmas special.
I came to the desert for Christmas.

White Christmas?

I need it to snow. It's almost mid-December and not a flake on the ground. It's Christmas, guys! Seventeen years of my life's Decembers come straight out of Mele Kalikimaka:

...from the land where palm trees sway.
Here we know that Christmas will be green and bright
The sun to shine by day and all the stars at night.

Yep. Lovely though that may be, I think Provo owes me a little more Christmas card weather. Please?

P.S. I drew that last thing for work the other day. I'm making a New Year's card for the department.

A Very Silly Christmas Song

Hannah and I wrote this in about an hour on Sunday night, and we are quite pleased with it! In other Christmassy news, our apartment is decorated and today I cleaned a bunch while singing to a Christmas karaoke CD that my mom sent me home with after Thanksgiving. Also, we are all reading/listening to A Christmas Carol together, courtesy of the lovely Courtney Perry and her awesome reading voice. And last but not least, I am putting together a Christmas box for my dear friend, Elder Sam Sonntag. Even if you don't know him, you're welcome to add a letter. :) And on that note, until finals are over and I can actually write something neat on this blag...

Yes, Virginia.

You guys. It's December first. I've been excited for Christmas since Halloween, but since I can officially start celebrating, I want to start this month's bloggage by posting one of my favorite Christmassy pieces of literature. In 1897, eight-year-old Virginia O'Hanlon wrote a letter to the New York Sun inquiring whether there really was a Santa Claus. An anonymous reply was published shortly thereafter.

Dear Editor:

I am 8 years old.
Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus.
Papa says, 'If you see it in THE SUN it's so.'
Please tell me the truth; is there a Santa Claus?

Virginia O'Hanlon
115 West Ninety-fifth Street.

Virginia, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except [what] they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men's or children's, are little. In this great universe of ours man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus. It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.

Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies! You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if they did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that's no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.

You may tear apart the baby's rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived, could tear apart. Only faith, fancy, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, Virginia, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.

No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.

(found via Newseum.)

Paper Folding

I had a dream the other day

That you and I climbed the stairs to the top of the tallest building we know

And looking out, we folded a thousand paper airplanes

And sent them, gliding, white and crisp

Fluttering, careening

Down the cool breeze

To the four corners of this town

That being said-

Or that being done-

You turned to me

And with a false embrace

And with a kiss on the forehead

Knifed my chest with half a scissor

Pulled out my still-beating heart (so careful, so sincere)

And said

You can live without this, right?

And Newton-like you dropped my heart with precision from the top floor

Watching it fall (resolutely) and saying you were sorry

And then kneeling by me as I lay dumbstruck in a growing puddle of blood

(Blooming around me like the border of an empire, conquering strongholds and villages and little homes)

Saying you were sorry

Saying you were sorry and hoping we could still be friends

When you had gone to sleep, a dead woman arose from the redness around her

And staggering down the stairs, sang you a lullaby you never heard

Outside she found her gray heart on the cement

A circle of blood around it

A circle of truth inside it

In vain she tried to put it back inside her chest

And thinking better of it, she took her heart and all its inside countries

And rolled them out on the ground

Spread it crisp and bright and smooth

Ironing the chambers and cleaning out the arteries

When it was flat and dry she folded it into a bird

She folded it into a bird

And she sent it flying up to meet you

And to say good night

And then goodbye

And then on

Some things I am thankful for:

1. Good people and bicycle thieves, and learning from both.
2. A new sketchbook (which I have only drawn typography in so far).
3. Lemon tea and craisins.
4. Roommates who love Harry Potter as much as I do.

5. The gorgeous sunset over Provo tonight.
6. Speaking, hearing, reading, and writing poems. (Also, BKDG.)
7. Phone conversations with my mom about recipes, boys, and life.
8. Picking out a Christmas tree for the TMA office today with Elizabeth (my boss and good friend).
9. Letters and emails from my missionary friends:

Sam and his doodles of us.
Molalla, Washington

Mike (nice tie.)
London, UK

10. The healing power of the gospel of Jesus Christ.

If it's easy to say...

Sorry for only posting videos all the time. Ms. Cline has a million songs that all apply to my life right now, but this one seemed best. Also, "I Fall to Pieces."

La Vie en Rose

Cosas

Today I am working on a poem in Spanish.
I am talking to friends about life and learning things.
I am being productive and getting work done.
I am writing a new song.
I am clipping all my fingernails.
I am playing silly songs on the guitar for my roommates.
And... sleep.

Today I saw a Russian film about Mexico. In the beginning, there was a long discourse about the earliest Mexicans' worship and fear of death. And in the end, the film showcased their eventual mockery of death through celebration and merrymaking on the Dia de los Muertos.

I am beginning to realize something old and long-realized: sometimes the most painful and fear-driven forces in our lives can turn out to be our reasons for celebration, laughter and ultimately, joy.

Things are low for now. They are going to get better. That's essentially everything I know.

I miss this.

“After a while you learn the subtle difference between holding a hand and chaining a soul, and you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning and company doesn’t mean security, and you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts and presents aren’t promises, and you begin to accept your defeats with your head up and your eyes open, with the grace of an adult, not the grief of a child, and you learn to build all your roads on today because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans. After a while you learn that even sunshine burns if you get too much. So plant your own garden and decorate your own soul, instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers. And you learn that you really can endure… that you really are strong, and you really do have worth.”

-Veronica A. Shoffstall

The Occidental Saloon

Oh my goodness, oh my goodness! I recorded this video with The Occidental Saloon last June or so and it is finally up on Vimeo and on their website. Please watch it and if you feel inclined, share it with your friends. They did an incredible job and I'm super excited about it. :)

P.S. Shark Speed's video is also up as of last night and you should watch it, too.

Bloop.

So... I was thinking about the "go invisible" option on Google chat when my brother suddenly went offline the other day. Eventually my train of thought led to this:

UPDATE:

Collin (my older brother) thought it should look more like this:

Ho hum.

It's Sunday and still gray outside after the rain yesterday. I am sitting in my living room thinking about getting ready for church and being productive.

Last night I drove to Pleasant Grove High School with Skyler and played in a Book on Tape Worm show. Ciera got a pickup for her cello, which was wonderful. Some friends came to see us, which was sweet of them. We played well and then we stopped playing and watched Mudbison and then Sky and I got into my car and drove away. It was dark and bright on the drive home.

When we got back to Provo, we picked up Collin and Jennifer (who is visiting this weekend) and came back to my house. I put Ironman II in the DVD player, handed everyone cups of limeade I made yesterday, sipped an I <3 NY mug of milk, and didn't watch the movie at all. Skyler left later to design a logo for this T-shirt company he's part of, (which is debuting today) after putting up with my show-and-telling him my map of Gotland. Around curfew, Collin and Jennifer left and took the car with them. I was sleeping on the couch, so then I dragged myself to my actual bed, wrote in my journals, read 2 Nefi Capitulo 23, and fell asleep.

Anyway, now it's morning and I am going to shower and eat breakfast and do things.

El Distractor

Esteman is my newest obsession, along with whoever the creative director is for these videos. If you haven't seen "No Te Metas A Mi Facebook," please do.

Hey, remember that time I took pictures of my bedroom window and backyard on the night before I left for school?

It was fun seeing my family this weekend. I miss the desert.

This. Is. Funny.

When I am at work, I am as a just-solidified ghost

Still floating half-asleep, my eyes thick and tired with the crust of night

I move through the morning, sighing, yawning,

When I am at work, I am as a sluggish computer

Waking up slowly, ages after I started booting

Weary in my timing, in opening programs and document

In finding the right words and graphics from my memory

In searching out the right colors

When I am at work I am part Xerox machine

Documenting and re-documenting an event, a message

Sending and copying it to faces and names I will not remember tomorrow

Preserving color, printing, printing

Diez

My blog is boring. I know. I am always much worse about updating it during the school year. Maybe in November I will FINALLY succeed at NaBloPoMo and be a good blogger forever.

Unlikely. Ha.

Anyway, ten things I have been doing lately:

1. Making creepy cookies with Maddison and Pearl:

This clearly, is my actual finger. Gross, huh? Read the full post at Pearl's blog here

2. Thinking about Halloween. I have an idea for a costume, but I don't want to post it here because you will ALL steal it. Just kidding. It's not that cool.

3. Working on new songs, as always.

4. Taking antibiotics and eating pineapple for my nasty finger. (Google chat status: explained.)

5. Going to the C.S. Lewis Society on Wednesdays.

6. Visiting the Pendulum Court in the ESC. Today they had Pirate Day. It was delicious.

7. Doing a ton of Spanish homework. Yuck.

8. Practicing for Fork Fest. (Tonight: Book on Tape Worm!)

9. Sending fun letters to Sam the missionary.

(Remember this? I miss this.)

10. Slowly working my way through the Book of Mormon in Spanish.

P.S. My family is coming to town on Friday!! Yessssssss.

Fork Fest!

Oh, hello there. I am playing at this show on Saturday and you are coming. Right? Right.

There are going to be lots of lovely people there, I promise. Hopefully you'll be among them. :)

This is what I do at my job. It is fun.

So... I do graphic design for Theatre and Media Arts, which basically means I make random flyers for stuff all the time and then put them up all around the HFAC. Yesterday I made this, and I like it. :)

I also made this silly thing for the Theatre Education Opening Social. It was fun. I doodled it and then I colored it in. I felt like a third grader.

Porter Hovey's new blog, Kissssing, is simply adorable.

Canoe is my new favorite band.

Have a listen here.

Kudos to my new friend, Skyler, for introducing me to them.

So... today is markedly worse than yesterday. Thankfully, we filmed a BOTW video yesterday with the pretty set from Saturday, so now music can be on hold for a little bit while I get wicked sick with the cough that's been coming on and my finger can internally bleed and purple some more. Because I don't have to sing or play the piano in the near future. Phew.

AUGH.

Yesterday afternoon I smashed my finger in the door. This picture doesn't really capture the color very well, but it's basically black underneath my fingernail. It hurts to type and last night I took painkillers for it because I couldn't sleep. It was ridiculous.

Complain complain complain.

Joie de Vivre

She has cities in her pockets

And keeps all the people she loves best in them

They pay a little rent and she pulls them out from time to time

To talk with the people she loves best

I don’t have a city there, or in my heart, or in the lines of my palms

But I have a heart and a mind and lines on my palms

And today I was outside

Feeling the grass, knotting it in my fingers

The sun bright and gold on my eyelashes and legs

And I stretched back and yawned and felt the warmth

Of the collected summers’ sunshine

And there, in this city

(Which may be in the pocket of someone who loves me)

Hearing new voices

Learning new names

Watching new faces

And becoming enthralled and overjoyed by the beautiful minds of strangers

Knowing how much they will matter in the future

Or, hoping they will matter as much as

This is the feeling:

Knowing myself and knowing what makes time move for me

Knowing that I will always want to hear a new voice

To learn a new name and watch a new face

All the unpleasantness of other voices, other faces, other names

Is gently blown from my waxing memory

And I move those names to a city outside every part of me.

This sun will leave my skin and this warmth will leave my arms and legs

But I will keep them on my roster

And when they come back I will recognize them, true

And best I will know the names of these, and that I knew them here

And that we shared this sun, this grass

This will make the days, the clocks worth their ticking

To know each, to name each, to be named and known in turn

And to save those blades of grass in the city where it is always the end of summer

And where there are always new faces and old, entering and leaving my pocket.

There's a stack of clouds hovering on my piano.

This show is going to be so awesome.

(Yesssssss.)

Things:

On Wednesday, I am playing at a special edition of Acoustic Explosion with Nik Day and Dave Crosby at BYU's Varsity Theatre (more information here), and then on Saturday I am opening for Cody Rigby, Norther, and Book on Tape Worm, which I'm also a part of. :)

In other updates, I'm an FHE mom and super surprised that I like it. I get to research creepy 1890s music for Romeo and Juliet. There is a cute guy in my ward who I've talked to about five times. I am writing new songs and poems and getting better at the guitar. Also, I went on a picnic with friends the other day. It was wonderful.

Credit to Kaneischa for a lovely afternoon and this lovely picture. :)

Oh, hi.

Last night we had a sleepover at my house. This basically consisted of Hannah and I watching Never Been Kissed, talking until 3(...or 4?), and sleeping on the floor of our room.

These things make me really happy.

Little Sixth. (Or, HOLY MOLY.)

Can't wait to meet this kid.

Driving away I waved to the giants who had always watched me leave and regress and leave and come home again.

Look what I've done!

'

I'm playing a show with my friends in two weeks and I made this poster for it, which I've been really nervous about. I do graphic design at my job, but I've never done a poster for a show before. Thankfully, my friends seemed to think it was cool and even the illustrious Adam, who usually draws the posters, told me he liked it. (P.S. There is a major pun in there. HA.) Anyway, I feel validated.

So.

My mom's been complaining that my blog isn't as... personal? as it used to be, because I keep posting pictures of things I like instead of writing about my life. I think this dearth of life-ness became more apparent when I left for school. Therefore, here are five things I have been doing since August 25th.

1. Going to classes. I am in Psych 111, English 252, Bio 100, Spanish 205, and New Testament. I'm also doing a music project with Megan Sanborn-Jones, the director of Romeo and Juliet, which is for credit. Maybe I should drop something, but I like them all...
2. Working. The other day I was cutting a giant piece of poster board and I accidentally cut myself with the Exacto knife I was using. Gnarly. The adventures we have in the TMA office.
3. Playing dress-up with Hannah. Um... yeah. We are six years old inside. Pictures soon. :)
4. Cleaning/organizing my apartment. Constantly.
5. Writing new songs, mostly on the guitar. Hopefully I will get better at it this year.

This is from Roald Dahl's The Twits. I always thought it was cute and quirky. :)

Poem from Spring.

Turned inside out, my eyes could see my brain,
My heart,
Bone after bone,
And every humming muscle,
And know the inward thinness of my sliding skin

Smooth as the quiet soul's dark eyes I saw then

A paper lotus--
Bare with white texture, and inward,
Printed and spattered with word and, inward,
With untouched thought, with non-words, with ink that should never be formed into words
And inward,
With the brilliant paint and glowing that is a soul.

Regenerating
Like a phoenix
It spread and unfolded
As a universe expanding, exploding
Accruing dimenson and breathlessly spinning, greater, greater
Opening, blooming, the insides pressing and reaching outward as color after color
Bloomed and opened and extended itself to the edge of the edges.
Still, holding out, small and silent and bright
The heart of it, golden and still
Searched itself, whispering,
Meaning sincere and true
And unrepeatable.

How to Be Alone.

This woman is wonderful and poetic. I'd like to be her friend. That is, when I'm not learning to be alone.

Also, I love video poetry and I want to make one of these.

Time Machine.

These photos (and others) were taken by Albert Kahn in the late 1920s using autochrome plates, which were used to create the first color photography. Aren't they intriguing? 

(photos: citynoise.org)

(Photo: householdname.typepad.com)

I live in a house of poets. They fit into the first category.

First Day of School!

If I had it with me, I'd post the most awkward of awkward pictures ever taken of me on my first day of third grade. As it is, here's an adorable Rockwell cover.

Wait! Also, this:

My first day of school, ever.

Pasadena, California. September 1996.

Listen to this.

Provo.

(photos: Cor Jaring)