Embrace Your Liberty

Cute date

2012-02-17T11:15:00.000-05:00

Also, I thought I'd share pics of my adorable Valentine's date. I kinda like him. He always wants to hold my hand, we see each other most every day, he lets me drive his car, I get along with his parents swimmingly... but I think the age difference is gonna be a problem :)

Cobb and I enjoying a Vday cupcake at Baked & Wired. So help me, it is IMPOSSIBLE to get little man to look at a camera straight!

CHEEKS!!!!!!!!!!! <3

LIFEBLOOD!

2012-02-16T23:09:00.001-05:00

Due to some weird security thing, I have been locked out of all my Google products (Gmail, Reader, Blogger) for the last three days. That felt like an ETERNITY. Holy cow I have learned where my real addiction lies. Everyone, beware. The things that you put on the internet that you thought were basically carved into stone are, in fact, still just simple electronic digits on a tiny chip that can be gone--poof!-- in an instant.

Ahem. Adding to that rather solemn declaration, I wanted to show you this tragic video, it is officially the first Katy Perry song I love:

Do you have one that got away? I have One with a capital O, and then a few others-sort-of-I'll-give'em-a-lowercase-o. I let myself think about them this week; my Valentine's day was one of nostalgia, coming after I taught a Relief Society lesson where we all dug really deep into the reality of the healing power of Jesus Christ in times of heartbreak. I don't have any real regrets about any of those boys in my past. Either the timing wasn't right, one of us wasn't ready, or we were meant for someone else. And that's the way the cookie's gonna crumble, every time but one! I just felt like taking the holiday to try and glean some knowledge about myself, where I am, what I want, what's holding me back. I think I'm doing ok. I can love with a heart and a half, and I will get the chance to love someone abundantly someday soon. Heaven help that dastardly slow boy, wherever he is. Literally. Heaven- HELP HIM!

Hope you had a good one. I had some incredible friends looking out for me this week, even from across the country. So grateful for love in its many beautiful forms.

Only the girls in my Relief Society will know exactly what this means. Love to you all!

Granola Recipe. And a small note on e-crushes.

2012-02-10T15:43:00.003-05:00

World, guess what? I have perfected the art of Granola. After my roommates and I downed a large batch of the following concoction in two days flat, and after I fielded multiple requests for the recipe, I decided it was time to share this granola with the world. I'm like the girl on The Saint, and this is my version of cold fusion. Enjoy having your world heartily rocked.

Lindsey's Art Hippie Crack/Marathon Training Fuel

3 cups old fashioned oats

1 or 2 cups of nuts depending on how much you like nuts (I used 1 cup roughly chopped almonds and 1 c walnuts)

2 tbl (heaping) brown sugar

2 scoops vanilla protein powder

1/2 c sunflower seeds

1 tsp cinnamon

1/2 tsp ground ginger

1/4 tsp (heaping) salt

1/3 c mix of maple syrup and honey (I used sugar-free syrup, because that's how I roll).

2 tbl unsweetened applesauce

1 egg white, lightly beaten w/ a fork

1 big pinch of stevia (Or, another tbl brown sugar :)

1 or 2 cups dried fruit (I used cranberries and apples)

Preheat oven to 300 degrees. Mix first 8 ingredients in bowl. In a small sauce pan over medium heat, stir the syrup/honey and the applesauce until everything's well mixed together (only a minute or so). Pour over the oat mixture and stir. Add the egg white and stir again. Spread out over a greased baking sheet and bake 30-40 minutes (stirring the mixture every ten minutes). Watch and sniff carefully between 30 minutes and 40 minutes for any burning. Granola should be mostly dry and smell AWESOME when it's done. Remove pan, set on a rack, let cool, then stir in dried fruit and stevia if you want it to be sweeter (I have a massive sweet tooth, so yes, I did). Store in airtight container... try not to inhale too quickly :)

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In totally unrelated news, I wanted to do a blogging series of my favorite men on the internet, since it's nearly V-day. But I couldn't think of a title for said series that couldn't also be taken very, very inappropriately ("I'm dating the Internet." "Youtube is my boyfriend." etc.) So, with less fanfare than I envisioned for them, here are my e-crushes, may they bring you as much joy as they've brought me at work and at unholy hours of weekday evenings:

The Incorrigible Idiot:

The Crooner:

The Perfect Groom:

The Smooth Talker (I'm looking at JT, but Jimmy Fallon is always charming :)

Jimmy Fallon Justin Timberlake History Of Rap... by PayeTaChatte

And, of course, The Sexiest Man Alive:

Philly anyone?

2012-02-04T14:19:00.001-05:00

This NYTimes review of what appears to be a refreshingly well-focused van Gogh exhibit had me looking up bus tickets to Philadelphia today.

Art historian Anabelle Kienle examined some of van Gogh's lesser known (but colorific) works, given that the artist emphasized in his letters to friends and family a close examination of nature, even and especially a single blade of grass, in order to bring one's soul to peace and harmony. How did such a philosophical motto affect his landscapes and still-lifes? The works on view showcase his long, quick brush strokes, which, reviewer Roberta Smith notes, "come closest to to approximating the texture of nature, one stalk, leaf or blade at a time, without forfeiting their vitality as paint on canvas." Never in my life have I seen an artist use such vibrant blues, arresting greens, and shimmering, striking lines of paint to create works that bring peace. You don't even see these colors in nature. And yet, his works feel exactly like every serene hike you've ever taken. For this I love van Gogh, and always will. I'm so excited to see this show.

Well thank heavens for almost-perfect days :)

2012-01-26T22:02:00.002-05:00

That last post was fun to write, because it has influenced me every day since; I now ask myself what can I do to get each day near to ideal. Today, I busted out the blue striped bowl that I normally save for special breakfast occasions... just because! Today, instead of a boy text, I got an hour of this:

which is, you know, as good if not SO much better!!! Look at that beautiful face. Baby O loves her Aunt Lindsey :)

I chose to brave the cold with Cobb yesterday (who WAS in a happy mood when I came in) and we explored the Library of Congress, my favorite building in DC. Dang it, I forgot to take a picture of it to send to dad. I'll cheat just this once and lean on the internet to help, here's a good shot of its interior magnificence:

DID go to class tonight and learn stuff, DIDN'T eat dinner with friends. DO have things to look forward to tomorrow. That's the beauty of this little exercise. There's always tomorrow... :)

Describe your ideal day- Ok I'll play.

2012-01-24T15:03:00.002-05:00

PS Above is my most favorite header I've had in a long time: Doug Wheeler, light installation artist, everyone. Mmmm.

Above the Clouds at Sunrise. 1849. An early Frederic Edwin Church painting from his days when he still retained traces of religious symbolism in his landscapes (Notice the vague cupping hand shape of the clouds). Ever since I first saw it two years ago, I have wanted a poster of this painting to wake up to every morning. Simultaneously tranquil and majestic.

(The following is yet another inspiration from the girl who writes Healthy is Always Better.)

My Ideal Day

-Wake up warm, rested, and headache-less at sunrise

- Reese's Puffs mixed with Cheerios in my blue striped bowl. While sitting in bed. Listening to General Conference talks.

- Put on a skirt.

- Cobb's in a good mood and runs to hug me when I come in.

- Text from crush in the morning. Because, let's face it... crushes are the second thing I think about after I wake up.

- Drive Cobb around in my boss's sexy Land Rover and pretend for a second that it's mine. Then remember that I am getting PAID to drive said car, and subsequently cherish my own life all the more.

-Text someone I think could use a bit of encouragement, renew a friendship as a result

- Get off work early and metro to GWU Library, where beautifully illustrated books from InterLibrary Loan sit waiting for me, holding in their new glossy or old delicate pages tons of fascinating information that supports my budding thesis topic perfectly.

- Good workout at the GWU gym with a friend who is only slightly better than me to motivate me.

-Walk home from metro in the sunset (Preferably 68 degrees or warmer, this is important :)

- Get all gussied up while listening to my muse, Alicia Keys

- Go out to eat at one of the new and fun restaurants in the area with friends/boy; intensely thoughtful or side-splittingly funny conversations ensue

-Stroll around DC/VA neighborhood in which restaurant is situated. Find a cute piece of architecture and take a picture of it to send to dad.

- Say focused prayers and then go to sleep with much to look forward to the next day

Men in tights

2012-01-19T14:30:00.001-05:00

UPDATE: pic of us attendees, thanks Lauren!

Went to see a ballet by Les Ballets Trockaderos de Monte Carldo company last night with a bunch of ward girlfriends (groups pics to follow shortly on THEIR blogs, links forthcoming). There's something a little funny about these dancers, see if you can spot it:

Yep. All male. All en pointe. It took about 30 minutes to get used to seeing MEN in tutu's, but you got over it as soon as they started really getting down; these fellas/ladies/fladies can get DOWN!This has to be the best ballet I've ever seen, not only for the sheer technical spectacle and athleticism of the dancers (Assisted extensions! By a GUY!!!!!!! GAAAAAH!!!) but also their ironic and funny performances and characters, which really livened up what is often otherwise a too-serious sport. See: the following solo,

I know the one thing we were all wishing for after it was over was to see the dancers up close (some of them were REALLY beautiful, and it was only the lack of uh, cleavage, that made us remember from time to time that they were men), so here, for everyone's edification, is a mini-mentary of the company. Enjoy. And watch out for them to come to your town, they're well worth your time and money!

Hey does anyone know how to change my default font to Papyrus?

2012-01-16T10:21:00.001-05:00

It is a truth universally acknowledged...

2012-01-13T16:03:00.001-05:00

(I will give $10 to anyone who can find me an American Mormon female between the ages of 12 and 65 who doesn't know the end of this quote) Everyone say it with me now:

... That a single man in possession of a good fortune MUST be in want of a wife!

-Jane Austen, prophetess.

I feel like her statement is in fact the only truth left in the world that may lay claim to universal acknowledgement, and that only because of its trifling consequence (good luck to all those single rich men out there. Your life is hard, wah wah).

Every where I turn I see truths of much greater import acknowledged only by sections of the population. Some of the most important truths-- when life begins, the existence and character of God, the efficacy of corporate taxation in economic improvement-- are hotly debated.

The more I thought on these debates tonight, the more I became aware of another fairly inconsequential universally acknowledged truth: all art either professes to reveal truth, or delights in rendering a fantasy.

As always, I began to run down my mental timeline of Western art history to find favorite pieces that would help substantiate my theory. Here are some of the world's most famously truthful artworks, followed by equally famous works that delight and amaze us through their impossible, imaginative, other-worldliness. Feel free to fight me on any of my classifications; in fact, I could use a good art debate and I have deliberately chosen artworks I had to think carefully about before I relegated them one camp or another.

TRUTH

The Parthenon: truth in proportions (Golden ratio, Da Vinci Code, anyone?)

Leonardo: truth in anatomy (a truth punishable by death at the time, as examination of corpses was blasphemous and forbidden in Italy)

Courbet: Truth/Reality in choice of subject matter. At a time when Parisian art was a little heavy on the naked nymph side, Corubet chose to examine, across HUGE canvases, the life of the poor and uneducated of France.

Jackson Pollock: Truth in gesture. Debated about this one for a while, but he goes on the truth side, for now, despite his misogynistic personality...

Andy Warhol: Truth in irony. I found myself recently explaining Warhol's repetative working method to a missionary recently (random!)

FANTASY

Paolo Uccello: Fantasy in three dimensions (look how fastidiously he drew lines clashing here and there, especially on the ground, to give you a sense of a great, deep arena of battle!) Also, fantasy of power. Uccello was one of the many masters under the thumb of the Medici. Here he pays homage to his patrons and subtly exaults them via symbols such as the orange representing the Medici family.

Boucher: Fantasy of the French bourgeois Utopia. I think we can all agree that this is NOT an accurate depiction of every day life for the majority of seventeenth century Frenchmen and women.

Van Gogh: Fantasy of emotions. He paints emotions as if they had the ability to alter the world, when in fact it is the other way around.

Jacque Lipchitz: the fantasy of futurism. Modern life breaks up movement and the centrality of forms and bodies into confusing alternations between nothingness and weightiness. (aaaaah modernist mumbo jumbo- the ultimate fantasy that probably only 10% of the viewers buy into).

Jenny Holzer: Fantasy of truth in the mass media. I have so much to say about Jenny Holzer. Another day. Cliff notes version: She creates scrolling lightworks that spell out messages that don't make sense, and often contain jarring, threatening allusions. She does so to make us realize how much we are conditioned to believing what we read in the media.

Sightless friendship

2011-12-28T11:25:00.000-05:00

Found this in the introduction to this year's RS manual, about the teachings and life of George Albert Smith (President of the LDS Church from 1945 to 1951). Already I love this book. I learn best by watching the examples of others, and this man was truly a saint. Nearly blind his whole life, he was a zealous advocate for the blind in Utah in addition to his calling as a General Authority. This is a poem of gratitude and friendship a member of the Society of Aid to the Sightless wrote for him to honor his service:

When Life beats hard with stormy hands,
And bitter teardrops fall;
When friendless Winter chills my soul,
And empty echoes call—
’Tis then I turn, with eager hope,
My steps though spent and lame,
To find an understanding heart,
Where burns a friendly flame—
A heart where gentle Wisdom dwells,
Compassionate and kind,
Whose faith in God and man has taught
A like faith to the Blind. …

Although his tender loving face
From us is shut apart,
We see the gracious wisdom
Of his understanding heart;
We feel a peace within his soul
And know a peace our own;
We hear his silent prayer that tells
We do not walk alone;
His faith in us will give us strength,
As unseen paths we plod;
Our souls uplifted by a man
In partnership with God.

As I have mentioned many times, friendship is one of my favorite things in the world. It has the capacity to reduce trials, color grey days, and enliven and enlarge one's soul. This is the level of friendship I will strive to show to others!

4.0 and 2011

2011-12-26T18:38:00.000-05:00

Breaking news: I NAILED my classes with another 4.0 and I DO feel like being braggy about it. I worked so dang hard, and had to deal with some MAJOR personality clashes in one class. I literally poured my sweat, tears, and thousands of dollars into finals week this semester (the money, fyi, went to buying myself a new laptop and paying for the repairs of a second, borrowed laptop that I also ruined during finals... long story). Phew. The image of grief I posted at the end of my first semester of grad school (here ya go) flickered to mind after I turned in my final paper a week ago, but I'm happy to report that I'm not as wrecked as I was that first semester, which was, amazingly, two whole years ago. I can't believe how long this master's is taking. TWO SEMESTERS TO GO!!!!!

2012's gonna be good. Gonna be a game changer. This scares me a little, I've actually grown to enjoy DC this year, more than I have in years past, when I've merely tolerated it. Visions of moving to the West Coast still dance around in my head, but for now I'm just going to leave my moving/career plans to fate and faith.

I don't want to make resolutions. I DO want to ruminate on what's just happened this year, though. Some years go quicker than others; this year was a long, slow haul with lots of mini-mile-markers that resulted in gradual progress and change in my life.

Biggest surprise of 2011: my job nannying Cobb, which came out of the blue in March and was a 1,000% improvement over my previous job managing the bakery. Cobb is a delightful little 2 year old, and his parents are absolute joys to work with. They love their son so much and support me in anything I want to do to help him develop into a happy, healthy, smart young man. I've really appreciated this job because, among its many, many great aspects, it has helped me realize how intellectually stimulating and rewarding the act of raising children full-time can be. I've had reservations about that in the past. But now I know I can do it, do it well, and absolutely love it. (Please oh please let my future children be perfect angels like Little Man is!)

Clearest memory of 2011: Running the last five miles of my first half marathon in November at full speed :)

Best unexpected answer to prayer: this is random, but a few weeks ago, coming home from one of my finals, I started to feel an unreasonable amount of anxiety about my train. I think I'd seen some sketchy guy with a pink suitcase on the platform or something. At any rate, by the time the train reached the bridge over the Potomac on its way into Virginia, I was convinced that death/an explosion was imminent. I know this sounds dramatic but it's true, and inexplicable. I don't do anxiety like that hardly ever. I started to pray. More earnestly that I had in a long while. I recognized the change in humility and intent with which I now spoke to my maker, and I acknowledged that I was not, in fact, where I would like to be should I really truly meet him in the next few moments. As the seconds wore on and the train chugged forward, my prayer turned to one of pleading for my family in case they were the ones in danger, and then, heart rate slowing, I began to thank Him for the many wonderful aspects of school, friends, and work that had been blessing my life lately. I thanked him for the gift of his son, Jesus Christ, who has been teaching me how to have faith and not fear all year. I told Heavenly Father about my plan to recommit to him and to use the atonement in a more dedicated manner to be who I want to be. I also told him that I have been thinking about actively trying to be more grateful to him, which plan I was going to implement immediately. :) As my train pulled safely into Pentagon City, I wondered why Heavenly Father caused me to have that weird near-death feeling (I knew it wasn't my own doing). I even said a prayer to him; "Well, that was weird, but I trust that You will tell me why You allowed me to feel that soon enough!" A mere three days later (a Saturday :) I found out I was teaching a lesson the next day on the second coming. I knew as soon as I saw my topic that Heavenly Father really wanted me to KNOW the urgency with which He wants us to prepare ourselves, our families, and the nations, for His Son's return. I needed to have some experience in this area in order to best give that lesson to my Relief Society sisters. So there you go; an unexpected answer that was actually given before I'd knew I'd had a need. I really appreciate these types of small reminders that Heavenly Father actively watches over our days and minutes.

Favorite purchase of 2011: The Red Dress :) ----seenhere----->

Love-life triumph: a fun, brief love affair with the most confident, thoughtful question-asker I've ever met

2011 Low Point: a poorly-timed visit from an ex. :)

2011 High Point: visiting my very pregnant best friend Jessica in August and then getting to meet her little daughter only a few days ago. Whatever makes Jess happy makes me happy too, so we were pretty dang happy this year!!! I'm so grateful for the enduring and enlightening power of eternal friendships.

College BFF Jess, bebe Olivia, me, bebe Jence, HS BFF Breann

Things that happened in 2011 that I want to repeat in 2012:

Finish a half marathon,

get straight A's,

make/save a lot of money,

see a musical (Les Mis at the Kennedy Center),

Things that didn't happen in 2011 that I want to do in 2012:

eat at Virtue Feed and Grain in Alexandria,

get a Master's degree,

get a job with business cards and a 401k,

visit Florida and Harry Potter World,

fall in love with a boy that is NOT 2 years old

Two things tangentially related to OWS...

2011-12-21T12:52:00.000-05:00

Source

I AM THE 8%, and SO THANKFUL!

No more finals = the ability to think and be thankful for random things once more.

I'm thankful that finals are over. I'm thankful even though TWO computers died right out from under me during finals and left me sensationally bad-tempered for a day and a half (LOOOOONG sad/hilarious story) I was able to semi-resurrect at least one of them and finish my paper nevertheless. WOO!

I'm thankful that I still get to participate in this kind of care-free life when I'm playing with Cobb:

Their costumes remind me a little bit of OWS protestors, hence this video's appearance in this post. Its youtube page tells us that the kids in the video are all related to the filmmaker, and that they worked for pizza :) The whole video cost $150. I love the fact that beautiful and moving things can still be created by the little guy.

Why I'm never, ever late for movies

2011-12-01T12:19:00.001-05:00

1. I love previews, like, as much as whole movies.
2. I love titles sequences; they're like artistic microcosms of whatever movie I'm about to see. I MUST be on time to the movies, because the critical analysis side of my brain gets a free 3 minutes of free-for-all dissection-- "why did the director choose to show this? Why that font? Imma have to buy this soundtrack! Ooh I like that shot!"-- before settling into good old fashioned American movie-zombie mode.

I loved this video, it showcases some of the most famous title sequences by the brilliant Saul Bass. Watching it, I really get a sense of how cutting edge each of these graphics must have appeared when they premiered. What an amazing career. The list of movies corresponding to these clips is found here.

The Title Design of Saul Bass from Ian Albinson on Vimeo.

Of course, the most celebrated title sequence in recent memory is this one (you know you haven't seen it a while, let it blow your mind again):

What are your favorite opening credit sequences? I know I'm missing dozens of good ones... I'm thinking Hitch first of all, oddly enough. It's just so cute!!

Just for kicks, here's the greatest ending sequence I've ever seen. Pixar must have an art history major on staff. I kicked back in my seat til the end of these credits, shouting out the names of each artist as they came along and laughing my head off. Isn't there anything that Pixar CAN'T do??

I wrote them down for you. It's a slow lunch.

Lescaux cave paintings

Egyptian hieroglyphics

Greek funerary vase paintings, the Black-Figure period

Roman/Pompeiian mosaics

Leonardo’s sketchbooks (he sketch the movement of fallingwater)

Michelangeo’s St. Peter’s Basilica blueprints

Venetian nautical paintings (highly celebrated for theirethereal sunlight and water)

Pointilism! Georges Seurat, everywhere!

Expressionism, vag Gogh- Look at those sunflowers!

Faith and pain

2011-11-30T22:11:00.001-05:00

I wrote a comment to a blogger who has decided to set out on a life path that no longer includes membership in my church, but I can't bring myself to send it to her. It seemed a little selfish. So I decided it belongs on MY blog, where everything is already presumed to be about me, me, me, and my experiences. A little primer: it's about a spiritual low point I once went through.

I'm so sorry. I've been there, not for as long as you have though. I felt like a canyon had opened up in my heart, I walked like a zombie through church, hearing the same words I had heard before but just letting them all drop into the giant crevice.

I am happy to report, though, that, through counselling and a good bishop and sheer force of mind, that rift healed over. It did not disappear. I keep the scar hidden, but I know I will have to show it to others some day who also struggled. I accepted the idea of having a shelf to put my questions on. I found answers or at least balm, little by little, which was most certainly extended to me in answer to sweet prayers uttered on my behalf by loving family members, and maybe a little in response to my own strangled prayers. Most importantly, I stomped down on feelings of guilt about certain choices I had made and refused to ever let them spring up again. I go to church and, the much more effective spiritual act for me, I go to the temple. That is my point of rest.

I wish you the best. I don't have anything to say like "Keep trying" or "Have you tried this or read that?" It sounds like you are thoughtful through it all. I hope you feel the love of your Heavenly parents. I have to believe they listen and watch intently. Again, best of luck, and life, and thought. And peace.

One of the most miraculous proofs of the atonement, to me, is the complete erasure of the memory of the pain I felt at that low point. I know I was miserable, I never want to go there again, and Heavenly Father has given me the gift of being UNABLE to go there again. I literally can't remember that pain anymore. Once, I heard a Relief Society president relate almost exactly the same experience, only she was referring to the pain of being single (she was giving her last lesson before getting married. She was 29). Maybe we all reach these low points. Hopefully we all get delete keys pressed for us by a higher power.

I'm so thankful for the sweet gift of deletion. I plan to show that thanks by looking people in the eyes and helping them in their points of pain, if they will let me.

In celebration of Mom

2011-11-27T02:19:00.001-05:00

I got to go home and surprise my parents for Thanksgiving and hang with my hilarious cousins. The surprise was a complete success (see videos on Facebook... mom cried for a LONG time, she's so cute!!).

And we shot skeet, learned the Virginia Reel, feasted, hiked, attended the cinema, feasted some more, played an intense game of two-hand touch on the arc of a baseball field (weird), and goofed to our heart's content on the Strip. And through it all, I observed something:

My sweet mom worked tirelessly, without question, without complaint, with joy on her face. For us. For me! What an amazing example of service. She was everywhere in the kitchen on Thanksgiving, simultaneously carving turkeys, mashing potatoes, whipping up gravy, and setting the tables. She somehow LIKED cooking the chili dogs and arranging snacks the next day while we peppered the Dry Lake bed with shotgun shells. This afternoon, upon popping through Grandma's front door after hiking Lone Mountain, we discovered a large assortment of turkey sandwiches spread along the counter waiting for us, because she knew we'd be hungry. I can't say I'm at her level of automatic serviceable-ness yet. I still want to run around and have fun.

BUT.

I really want to learn to be like her someday. She makes everything so beautiful.

That is all.

In case you, like me, need the occasional reminder that your problems are small

2011-11-19T09:16:00.001-05:00

All images from the NASA Goes Pink Flickr Set. Enjoy!

our ultraviolet sun

Ok this one's not from NASA- I got into a fight with my roommate because I said this is the person I want to meet first in heaven when I die:

I'm sorry I'm not spiritual enough to meet Jesus first. I just think I'll need a primer for His level of majesty, and I happen to think Gene Kelly is the most majestic MORTAL who ever lived and would fill that role marvelously. I stand by my statement!

I had a long lunch/I needed a creative outlet

2011-11-11T10:15:00.000-05:00

Found this on an educational tumblr today:

~~Because I was REALLY bored~~

Because the attempt to fit the entirety of Western art history into 9 smiley faces made my eye twitch, I decided to pare it down to just an American 20th Century History of Art (much more sensible):

I will not apologize for the use of the Comic Sans font. I was having a moment of nostalgia, and besides, I feel it gels really well with the smiley face theme.

To Marissa, My Fellow Flying Squirrel

2011-11-07T19:15:00.001-05:00

This is Marissa, one of my favorite people on earth:

These are the types of fun things we like to do:

Shake it on the beach.

Jam with Brad Paisley.

Meditate at Foamhenge.

Build "Phonehenge" at Foamhenge.

Etc.

In five days we are running the Richmond Half Marathon together. It's her second, my first, half marathon. Marissa, are you ready? I'm so not. But I'm excited to survive with you :)

This part is just for you, lady. May I present:

LC and MP's Electronic Half-Marathon Survival Kit

Important tips and reminders for this week before our race:

http://www.dailyruns.com/half-marathon-training/

Motivation to cross the finish line:

We will watch it. With ice packs on our legs.

Even funner motivation to cross the finish line:

Have you HEARD of Tebowing? I feel like it should be the pose we strike at our victorious end. Check it: Tebwoing.com

Motivation of the food variety:

What was the name of that shake place right across from that tattoo-filled burger place we ate at with he-who-shall-not-be-named? Yea. I'm thinking it's time to hit up that shake place.

Let's try to get this stuck in our heads before the race:

No. Scratch that. This has a quicker beats per minute, will keep us uptempo:

I still have both of these wristbands fyi, and I will be bringing them so we can coordinate our style (although we still need some tutu's...). I think we can safely cross "bring our game face" off the list if we come with these expressions on our faces:

Heights.

2011-11-02T12:57:00.003-04:00

I said it on FB and I'll say it again here: HOLY $@#!

In my next life, when I have been blessed with coordination and no fear of heights, I will do this all day long.

I love watching people live out their craziest dreams. :)

Specifically for Milan, but you can enjoy, too.

2011-10-24T14:04:00.000-04:00

1. Because her style reminds me of you- girly but sassy (See also: her King of Anything video). Do you own a good leather jacket? I feel like you should
2. Because you're an art historian and I can't remember if you appreciate dance or not but MY little art historian heart loves her dancing
3. Just Because

Happy (ha.) Monday, everyone!

Gmail baby love

2011-10-21T11:23:00.000-04:00

Came home late last night to this picture in my inbox:

Nothing like best friends and best friends' beautiful babies to make a good day even better. I can't wait to spoil this baby in person!!!!!!!!!!! December? Yes. So help me...

PS Olivia's cuddled up in a silky bamboo fiber blankie that for some reason makes Jess think of me. I love that. I didn't even buy it for her, although I wish I had! The weather's turned cold now which makes me renew my obsessive love for all things blankie. This might be the winter I finally buy myself a snuggie and turn into one of those crazy people who talk about their awesome snuggies all the time. Guys, I tried one on once, it was AMAZING. Oh my gosh this winter is gonna be so good. Now, the only question is: go classic snuggie or panda variety:

Urbanoutfitters.com: giving twenty-somethings a huge variety of retarded crap to blow their student loans on and wear to the Wall Street protest, since 2011.

Sculpture and I are having a moment

2011-10-17T22:13:00.001-04:00

Tony Cragg. Outspan. 2008.

Maybe it's because this French impressionist class is so theory-heavy that I feel like stabbing right through every Manet painting I look at just to make the discussion about subjectivity STOP, or maybe it's because my conservation class is very biased towards objects; either way, I am really having a good time thinking about sculpture lately. Theorizing, ruminating, and thoroughly being captivated by the awe-striking qualities of art in three dimensions. Come with me, let's go there together.

GREAT example of how painting draws you into an illusory space.
Andrew Wyeth. Wind From the Sea. 1947.
One of my favorite paintings in the National Gallery.

Normally, I'm all about paint and photography. Two-dimensional art intrigues, puzzles, and delights me with its inherent theatricality. The creation of 2D art will always, to some degree, involve the artist thinking critically about how he or she is going to TRICK you into believing you're looking beyond the surface of the work and into some imaginary depth (well, actually, that statement could be contested when it comes to abstract expressionist and minimalist paintings*, but we'll just stick with my stereotype for the moment).

In short, 2D art involves illusion. 3D art, aka sculpture and installation art, involves... movement.

Henry Moore. Reclining Figure: Internal and External forms
(Working model). Bronze. Cast 1952-53.
Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden

What a change that makes! What a different experience, looking at sculpture! Instead of using your eyes, you must use your eyes AND your legs. Instead of a painstakingly-wrought single viewpoint (as in a painting), you have 360 viewpoints! The sculptor has to consider all of them in the creative process. He or she gets down and dirty-- and often quite clever-- when manipulating his or her materials. Their works of art must slide from one vantage point on over into the next seamlessly. In its finished form, sculpture has the potential to be a, well, for lack of a better word, a sensual experience. Yea, I said it. Sculpture possesses so much more force in a gallery, and it's because it takes up your space. Or rather, you take up ITS space. While you may glide past paintings, you must maneuver around sculptures (or suffer the wrath of the security guards...). I had a brief love affair with an ever-arresting Henry Moore bronze this weekend at the Hirshhorn (See above). I literally couldn't keep my hands off it, but I was saved at the last moment (before I actually touched it, don't worry, I'm an obedient museum patron), I was lured away by the siren call of a blinding Dan Flavin light installation.

Like a moth to one of those moth-zappers... I just can't help myself. ^Dan Flavin, untitled (to Helga and Carlo with respect and affection), 1974. Flourescent lights. It's glorious! You can't tell from this picture, but this installation artwork stretches about 40 feet across the length of a gallery in the Hirshhorn. Wish I had people in this picture so you could get a sense of its fabulous dimensions. The light squares come up to about my hip, just think of it that way. I just love Dan Flavin. I love that he uses clean lines, the simplicity of light fixtures, to reinvent a gallery. The light sweeps over you and the museum itself, so that you can't ever quite assertively say, "THIS is where a Dan Flavin light sculpture comes to a halt." You just can't fence it in like that.

Picture I took on my cell phone from one end of the gallery looking towards the other end of the gallery this weekend at After Hours. C'est magnifique, non?

Ever since reading over The Agony and the Ecstasy this summer (a fictionalized 1960s biographical novel of Michelangelo, which cut me to the core- how DARE the author actually put words in The Immortal's mouth, pretend to know what he was thinking when he created The David??), I have renewed my love for Renaissance sculpture. Maybe that's where this all started. I re-Googled all my favorites: Michelangelo's highlights, Claus Sluter's priestly sculptures around the tomb of Philip the Bold, Bernini's Rape of Proserpina, etc. Mandatory illustrations of said masterpieces:

Two of the Sluter Mourners - Only about 18 inches high, they ring the tomb of Philip the Bold in Dijon. Their deep-cut folds and touching expressions of angst have intrigued art historians and visitors for centuries. Look, 3D views of each sculpture found HERE, enjoy!

Rape of Proserpina. Really this viewpoint is all you need to see.
Fingers indenting into a thigh... BUT IT'S ALL MARBLE!!!!!!!!!! GAAH!!! MY LITTLE BRAIN'S GOING TO EXPLODE!

Tony Cragg. Elbow. 2008.

Ahem. Despite the wonders of Renaissance-era naturalistic sculpture, I still find myself equally enthralled by modern and contemporary sculpture. It absolutely astonishes me. In an era where innumerable images arrive onto my laptop as fast as I can click, the presence of contemporary sculpture, the way that it accosts and silences you, its simultaneous monumentality and serenity, makes for an invaluable and irreplaceable artistic experience in my life of looking. Its use of plastics, glass, iron, found materials and electricity... I find a little bit of my world reflected back at me in each of these media. That's what keeps me intrigued, I think.

GASP! I just figured something out! Remember how I was saying 6 inches ago that abstract expressionist and minimalist painting could arguably NOT be about theatricality? Here's some Barnett Newman and Clyfford Still to illustrate my point:

Newman's Adam. 1952. Tate.

Still's 1948-C. 1948. Hirshhorn.

What you see is pretty much what you get here, huh? No depth, no illusion. Just glorious meditations on paint over canvases.

MAAAAAAAAYYBE the modern/contemporary sculptures of Henry Moore, Dan Flavin, Tony Cragg, Louis Bourgeois, and the installation work of Matthew Barney, Olafur Eliasson, and Janine Antoni, to name a scant few, have fired my imagination of late because they, in their very ~~physical-ness~~ physicality-- in the way that they order me around a gallery, alter my ability to see, and affront my every sense-- have surpassed painting as the more theatrical type of artwork! Only I am the actor!

Cheers to you if you are still following me. Crap. I'm beginning to sound like Michael Fried, I can feel it. Milan, Maggie, and Erin, I expect only you to be keeping up with me.

M. Barney's The Deportment of the Host. MOMA. 2006.
Cast polycaprolactone thermoplastic and self-lubricating plastic

The point I want to end on is this: one of the reasons I tend to stay away from studying sculpture is because it feels too daunting. It requires too much memory. I experience so many more emotions when I wind my way around Matthew Barney's lustrous The Deportment of the Host installation than I do when facing, say, a Hiroshi Sugimoto photograph. It always feels nearly impossible for me to even begin to explain my thoughts about sculpture, or think critically about what the artist has done or may be trying to say through his or her work, when it comes to sculpture and installations. 360 ways to look at it, remember? But that doesn't mean I don't love to stop by and continue my love affair with the 3D media. It just means we will always be working things out. I will be a forever fervent admirer, and it will always be invading my space. Wouldn't have it any other way.

Random Pretty Things 2

2011-10-17T20:13:00.002-04:00

These two by the artist Andy Goldsworthy, in his book, TIME

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These two "dirty nerdy" by the graphic artist cargocollective

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These two from the Walls Notebook (a picture book of funky walls for you to draw on... neat idea!)

Why Art and I Have Separated

2011-10-12T23:22:00.000-04:00

I know some of you are thinking, "Where's the art?? You've sold out to the narcissistic MAN, Lindsey! Once upon a time I came to your blog to drink deeply from the well of art historical knowledge that is your half-a-master's degree, and you have UTTERLY failed me!! I'm making plans to purchase a Thomas Kinkade print right now to go over my couch."

NOOOOOOOOOOO! For many, many, MANY reasons, I hope that is not what you are thinking. Please, let's try to work this out.

The problem on my end is, art history at the Master's level is NOT the same quaint art history that you read about at your coffee table. While I'm still looking at many of the same things you'll see in the pretty books you buy in museum gift shop (amazing, mind-blowing works of art like Seurat's La Grande Jatte or this lovely, lonesome little guy by Degas):

I'm concurrently reading craploads of sentences like THIS about the artworks:

The supra-natural artifice form that Baudelaire declares to act as the appearance of modernity is, to Seurat, instead the displacement of the natural from the body to inorganic accoutrements.

and,

In this light, the countess's obsessive self-representations are less an index of narcissism-although they are that too-than a demonstration of a radical alienation that collapses the distinction between subjecthood and objecthood.

Yea. You should be THANKING me for not filling my blog with that. You want to know the worst part? Those aren't the actual sentences I read for homework. Those are my NOTES about my homework. Those are my attempts at SUMMARIZING what other brilliant art historians have said.

So. Let's go back to the main problem between us, which is, as far as I can see, really just a failure to communicate. I assure you, my heart is in the right place; I want to learn about art and history and turn around and tell you about it, but I JUST DON'T KNOW how to shrink it down into an actual, interesting discussion topic.

Even worse, I'm getting to the point where I can't look at art without having the above matrix of analytical thoughts pop into my brain. Only the faintest click of, "That's pretty," or "Love it!" registers to me anymore before I start looking for signs of the subjugation of femininity to the classic reticence of the priviledged male bourgeois gaze in the planar regions of the foreground of the painting or, possibly, in the absence of a male presence in the painting, as we would expect to see in Degas's ballet works.

I'm going to be on the hunt this weekend for pedagogical inspiration. Let's all pray I find it. :) And that I never again use the word pedagogical on this blog without a really, REALLY legit excuse. Ok be back soon.

Salute to the greatest part of Summer

2011-10-09T11:34:00.000-04:00

Poor guitars. Yay for Youtube!

Mournfully kicks an orange leaf down the street...

2011-10-07T11:24:00.001-04:00

In case you all have forgotten since last year, may I remind you:

I hate all seasons but summer.

Dang you, influx of pumpkin recipes and hoodies!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sunny DC Row houses

Sunny National Gallery Garden and National Archives building

Sunny Neoclassical architecture, DC's buildings' bread-and-butter

Did anyone else catch this pic on hulu???? BRILLIANT play on Seurat!
I might have to do a whole post on how this Office spoof is actually a brilliant intellectual... well, spoof, of this masterpiece:

Mostly I love it because it makes the greatest cameo ever in Ferris Bueller.

Sexiest. Picture. Ever.

2011-10-03T19:01:00.002-04:00

From my favorite photographer, Matt Clayton. I can't decide what's my favorite part, the argyle socks or the sweats with suspenders. Or the jawline.

Football: Autumn's most redeeming spectacle.

Mon Day

2011-10-03T13:05:00.002-04:00

Not your average Conference post (Redux).

2011-10-03T12:30:00.000-04:00

Background: I wrote this post after a lot of thought this weekend, and then (as some of you have noticed), I took it down. I worried that some of you who are in very different circumstances than mine would not appreciate my viewpoint. BUT, this morning, a fellow single friend wrote me and told me she identified with some of the things I said. I'm thankful for her encouragement, because I really thought hard and felt passionately about the following ideas, and it really, really bothered me to take it down. I feel these are important issues to talk about as women. I can say that I wrote the following with the best intentions. So here goes. I'm exercising my freedom of speech today.

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Sigh. I had a LOT of conflicting thoughts as I listened to the talk about motherhood and children tonight at conference. Can I say that out loud?

I've thought about it all afternoon. I thought about my very best friend, who just welcomed her first little daughter into the world. I thought about another dear friend who recently had the courage to write honestly and sincerely about a miscarriage. Of course, I also thought about my own career, about an awesome opportunity I'm excitedly pursuing right now, and my wonderful (and work-heavy) classes, the Art of Paris and Preventative Art Convservation. I pondered the sweet and surreal (and sometimes annoying) experiences I've been having in my current employment, nannying the world's most adorable and brave two-year-old prince, Cobb. I thought about my grandmother, my aunts, and my mom, who grew up with gender roles very different than today's, and who saw and felt their experiences as women and others' expectations of them as women change drastically over the last few decades.

At the end of the night, I just find myself very grateful for the fact that I'm single right now and that I don't have to make the career/homemaker decision yet. I don't know what I'd do at this point. I'm sure Heavenly Father is aware of this fact, and he probably has me where I am for that reason. I want to love someone and raise beautiful little people, I want to work and change the world. Tricky, but not impossible to combine.

This all reminds me of something my brother Spencer once told me: we were talking about the mandate upon us to wait, what feels like forever sometimes, for trials to end. He brought up Abraham's 90 year wait for a child. "Lindsey," he said, "I think Heavenly Father had him wait that long because Abraham had to learn something about Abraham." At times, the concept of patience just stokes my fiery, flusterd soul further and I roar about like an impatient toddler. But tonight it doesn't bother me. Tonight I just find myself very grateful that Heavenly Father sees fit to lovingly orchestrate a private tutorial for me, his child. (Echo Dieter F. Uchtdorf's beautiful and inspiring talk).

Later this evening, I watched the following. I think it stands as a pretty great liberal foil to our conservative conference talk on children and women's role, and yet... there's a lot of truth in it as well:

My thoughts:

1. Even though it made me super uncomfortable, I LOVED the parts where they played raunchy scenes without any music, because the sheer idiocy of the entire sexy/b*tchy/ditzy spectacle became so clear. SUCH ironically powerful images!!! (update: This now makes me think of President Monson's wistful talk about the changing moral compass of today, and our assignment to stand firm for goodness. Amen, prophet.)

2. WARNING: This clip doesn't say anything about how valuable the role of mother can be, nor about what a great option it is for many, many women. Motherhood and careers do not have to be mutally exclusive, feminists!

3. I can't make up my mind: IS it imperative that we eventually reach a 50/50 gender split in governing bodies like Congress?
3a. AFGHANISTAN HAS MORE WOMEN IN GOVERNMENT THAN THE UNITED STATES?? [jaw hits the floor]
3b. If I ever meet that Fox News guy who made a crack about politicians with PMS, I will junk-punch him.

Tangent: I remember describing for my last boyfriend once the strange sadness I got sometimes, thinking about my career. I tried to explain to him that it's a weird feeling as a girl, knowing one day you're going to be asked to just... GIVE AWAY this part of your life that you're totally in love with. The earning money, networking, working hard, gabbing with colleagues, printing business cards, and changing the world part of yourself. Ex-bf admitted that he had never thought about such an emotion before, never realized that women might feel that way. He tried to empathize with me as much as possible. He did NOT try to solve my problem, or tell me what I should do, or what other women in his life would say to do... he just told me that he realized how much that would suck. That was a great moment of validation for me. I'm thankful for feminist men who believe in and value women as equals. (That memory came to me as I watched the part in the video about how the media today breeds insecurity in women in a major way. Again, amen. Thank you men who validate women for having souls.)

4a. I still hate Rachel Maddow.
4b. Here's to the strong women in my life who have transcended stereotypes, made beautiful families while keeping themselves strong and whole, too, women who have had broken hearts and yet rose above, who have trusted God and talked to him in times of trial, fear, and doubt, and will continue to do so to the end. Women who make life beautiful. Those are my heroes.

Only slight related happy-healthy collage I made while babysitting tonight.

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My friend Lauren's smart comments:

I thought it was a great video, well, done and so interesting. Some of those images were really disgusting and graphic. (The rap video at the beginning being seared into my head. Gross.) But I think what the women say in the video is so powerful coupled with the disgusting images, because you realize how much we are desensitized to the media. It was also reaffirmed that I hate video games. I think people--women in particular--will get something out of the video. I think its good to recognize things wrong in our society. And you know, I also think that it kind of, in a round about way, goes along with Sister Dalton's talk about fathers and being role models and examples to daughters. Just think, if a father encouraged his daughter to be everything she could be and encouraged her to make a difference in the world, she'd be so encouraged and successful and she'd think/know she could do anything.

[...] I find myself having a hard time with the work vs. motherhood thing too. I always, my whole life expected to be a mother. I thought I'd get married young like my mom. I thought I'd graduate from college and that would be it, I'd maybe go back to school later. But here I am 27 nowhere near getting married and knowing I need to go back to school in order to further my career and by doing that increase my job satisfaction and in turn increase my self esteem and happiness. On the other hand I can't help thinking, if I get married after having had all this education, am I really going to want to stop and be a mom like I originally planned? Probably not. And then I get frustrated and stop thinking about it and decide I should probably go on multiple dates with the same person before I start planning my future. :)

I hear ya, girl.

First Anniversary

2011-09-26T21:33:00.003-04:00

It wasn't til I was halfway done watching the RS broadcast online yesterday that I remembered: it was September 25th! Exactly a year before, I took out my endowment at the Las Vegas temple when I was home for my brother Marcus' mission homecoming (he was more or less happy to share his glory with me that weekend, thanks boo).

I can't believe it's been a year, mostly because my feelings about the temple have changed so wildly in that short amount of time. It really is "The Lord's University," as some quaint General Authority quipped some unknown time ago. I've learned so much. I could literally sit down and write a 20-page paper on the various learning experiences I have had thus far in God's house (but I won't. Blog and journal instead).

Women who are neither missionaried nor engaged can just kind of go when they feel like it, anytime around or after they turn 25. It's a pretty personal decision. I don't know how many actually choose to go around that age or how many wait for a while. I only know three other girls out here that have voluntarily gone. I bet that number could be higher, though. All of us need to go through it at one point in our lives or another, the church teaches us that the endowment is an ordinance that is essential to eternal happiness, akin to baptism.

NYC Temple Celestial Room,
Courtesy of USA Today

OK, that's why the church encourages women like me to go. But why did I choose to go? Welp, I turned 25 last June. I'd been listening to the thoughtful stories of many returned-missionary girlfriends out here in DC. Sooooo many of them spoke of going to the temple in times of distress, or when big decisions needed to be made, or just because they loved it and they liked the shot of peace it injects into your week. These women spoke with so much contentedness, so much trust, of sitting and praying in the Celestial Room, the last room you move to in the course of the endowment. (It's a gorgeously decorated sitting room where you can hang out as long as you want and meditate or pray... or talk to the friends you came there with). We believe it is basically "God's living room," where he would be most comfortable visiting on his jaunts down to his little planet.

Last June, I had just finished my first year of grad school, and I knew I wanted a place like that in my life, a place filled with the Spirit where I could get a better, more holy perspective on things. It was important to me. Also, I wanted to feel like I had a home out here. It's been 2.5 years in DC and I still feel like I am just sort of wandering in the midst of it all. So I set about reading temple prep materials and getting the necessary interviews from priesthood holders that would make it possible.

An important sidenote: I come from a long line of faithful, sweet parents and grandparents who have made frequent mention of their temple service in their everyday conversation. I grew up with manifold mini-testimonies of how the temple has impacted my family members' lives, how their little prayers uttered here or their little frustrations encountered there were always answered or resolved with wonderful eclat as they did their thang in the temple. This was probably the great original spur for me to attend the temple to the fullest capacity, as soon as I was able. I've always held a special place in my heart for these wonderful buildings. Oh, and being the child of an architect who worked on and off for the church and who hung his model temple design in our hallway helped, too.

As some of you know, my first time through the temple, 366 days ago, was a less-than-enlightening experience. I would like to state that for the record, because I don't think I'm alone in having such an experience, and maybe some other people need to be validated. BUT, I was directed to some Old Testament scriptures afterwards that helped me put the endowment ceremony into context, and I can't state this enough: I had amazing, thoughtful, inspired friends who accompanied me the first time and many times afterwards that really helped guide my growing testimony of the temple ordinances. I am so happy to report that, as I have returned to the temple again and again this year, even with tears of fear in my eyes the first two subsequent times, I was able to make connections and find explanations that satisfied, soothed, and ultimately enlightened me and made me excited about this particular brand of service for mankind. It was certainly work, finding out what I liked about the temple and what I really believed. But it was incredibly rewarding work.

If anyone wants to talk more of these things, we can do so one-on-one. But this is for any and everyone. I hope I have shared an ok amount of my thoughts. I kept a record of my experiences throughout the year, of the impressions I got, of my every aha! moment. It is sweet to read back through it, last night and today, and see my growth, and understand and acknowledge that a real Deity accompanied me in my learning process and was anxious for my happiness, peace, and faith as I learned to love him and serve him to a greater degree in temple. I am so grateful for the opportunity to return there frequently in DC, and I hope these first 365 days are only the start of a long life of service in the House of the Lord.

I have a testimony that the church and gospel of God has been restored to the earth, that it can be found in the precepts and principles of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. Joseph Smith really had a vision (look it up, read it again, the feeling I get when I read that is EXACTLY the same feeling I get in the Celestial room). Such precepts and principles have been slowly revealed over the last 160ish years to make you happy, to make the world a better place. I'm so happy to be here. OK that's all for now.

I know this is starting to feel like a tumblr, but oh well.

2011-09-24T17:05:00.001-04:00

Positive thinking!!! Always a great idea.

I think I found The One...

2011-09-24T09:28:00.001-04:00

LEARN from Rick Mereki on Vimeo.

MOVE from Rick Mereki on Vimeo.

Why yes I'll marry you, handsome, happy hipster. Take me away!

In REAL news, Baby Olivia arrived safely, and I have an email in my inbox filled with probably beautiful, but currently inaccessible pictures of her and her proud parents at the hospital. $#@% you, Gmail! Gimme them pictures!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Happy weekend, yo.

It's time.

2011-09-22T14:11:00.001-04:00

My best friend Jessica is in labor. Right NOW. I'm going to be an auntie today!!!!!!!!!!! Now I know how all you peeps with nieces and nephews felt. Oh, except Team Clayton has ipads to make sure I meet baby Olivia within 6 hours of her birth. I WIN!

Good luck guys! I love you!

In Search Of: Healthy Snacks

2011-09-18T19:54:00.002-04:00

So, I told yall a few weeks ago about this summer's re-evaluation of my fitness goals, and I am proud to say I have had a fantastic fall thus far- I'm one month into the most epic (and so do-able) half-marathon training program, and I have really made an effort eat good things- like, I keep trying to eat so many carrots that I don't have room for the bad tasty stuff like sodium-encrusted wheat thins and ice cream. Feeling pretty good- no, scratch that,

Feeling FANTASTIC!

So good, I might have bought myself a little red dress from Calvin Klein (via Marshall's- $50 for a $230 dress, yeehaw!) to reward myself. I've always wanted a va-va-voom red dress. :) It's now hanging in my closet where I can see it. It keeps me motivated to keep running (Gotta EARN it!)

My biggest set back, that keeps threatening all my progress, is snacking. Dang it, I get HUNGRY at 10:30 am and 3 pm... and 4 pm and 8 pm! So I've been looking for healthy snack ideas.

This one's pretty good. -> (4 hard boiled egg whites plus 1/4th an avocado plus pepper on toast)

So's this one. ->
(1/2 a sweet potato, baked, mixed with a lil non-sweetened applesauce and walnuts)

And I've eaten this super fast Pesto chicken salad 3 times this week. ->

But I need more! Any suggestions?? These need to be FILLING snacks. I can eat like a man.

In other news, our ward went on a camping retreat all weekend and it was AMAZING! So many fun things to do, and I feel like we all really got a chance to meet new people and strengthen friendships with... well, not OLD people, but you know what I mean. I finally went to Gettysburg and toured the museum there, which all the nerds in my museum circles keep rhapsodizing about. My verdict: it was SO worth the money! The exhibit and the cyclorama were FANTASTIC!!!! So well done. I was geeking out to my friends the whole time, and they were nice enough to feign interest in 19th century theories of optics and visual culture for my sake.

At the end of the movie they show that teaches you all about the battle, the narrator (Morgan Freeman, aka The Voice of God in my imagination), gives the most poignant thought: "And now we too are met on this battlefield." or something like that... basically the thought was, the racism and division that were the root cause of the horrific bloodshed over a hundred years ago continues today in its own way. How will you fight for the cause? Will you?

Pretty touching.

PS-- GIRLS ONLY--Read this on one of my fitness blogs and pretty much felt an AMEN:

During a Period

Uterus: I hope you didn't like your underwear.
Stomach: EAT ALL THE THINGS!
Emotions: I don't care that you were crying your eyes out ten minutes ago, that was freaking funny! Now go act like you're high until I see something that pisses me off.
Stomach: ESPECIALLY THE CHOCOLATY THINGS!
Uterus: Also I've decided to act like something's constantly punching me. I hope you don't mind.
Thighs: I'm just gonna go ahead and feel like I'm made of lead, cool?
Body: Oh all your clothes are going to look like crap and probably not fit.
Me: Why??????

Funnier than adding "In the Bathtub" to the title

2011-09-11T13:52:00.003-04:00

So I'm preparing a lesson for my singles ward Relief Society right now on... Eternal Marriage (sigh). Aka the same thing we've been talking about for 6 years (but I'm not complaining! Got plenty to learn!). I am, however, throwing in a twist today for my own sanity. I'm making it a rule that no one can say the words "single" or "dating" in their comments. We're just talking the bare-bones principles of the essential ordinance of marriage today here, ladies.

Also, I found out that the teacher gets to pick which hymns are sung at the beginning and end of her lesson. My roommate and I got a great kick out of debating which hymns would have the most thematically inappropriate undertones at the end of a marriage lesson amongst older single girls. My favorite rejects:

Does the Journey Seem Long?
I Need Thee Every Hour
The Happy Day At Last Has Come
Did You Think to Pray?
Tis Sweet to Sing the Matchless Love
Silent Night
I Have Work Enough To Do
Father, Cheer Our Souls Tonight
The Time is Far Spent

And, the ultimate winner:
Praise to the Man

This is the place.

This is the stuff.

This is the end goal.

This is precious.

This is just because.

Back to the Future... for Parkinson's Disease!

2011-09-11T12:51:00.001-04:00

This week shoe fans everywhere have been buzzing as the following clip was released (directed by Robert Zemekis himself and starring Christopher Lloyd and Kevin Durant!). The rumors have been circulating about the futuristic Nike shoes once worn by Marty McFly in Back to the Future II, known til now as "The Greatest Shoes Never Made," and they have all proven to be true! The shoes are real! The future is now! Named the Nike MAGs, only 1500 have been created, and they are going up for auction over the next ten days, 150 pairs per day, to benefit the Michael J. Fox Foundation for Parkinson's Research.

Here's the auction, live from eBay. If I were $3,000 richer... I'd own those babies. Best of luck and thank you to everyone of those blessed shoeholics who bids for them.

My mom was diagnosed with early onset Parkinson's disease in 2005. It's hard to believe it's been six years. Six years of holding mom's hand and teasing her when her "momometer" goes off. She's doing great, in case you're all wondering. She even picked up a design commission this week (she's a painter)! I love you, mom. I'm proud of everything you do, for yourself, for your students, and for your family.

It's Septemeber 11th, I'm well aware of that. I don't feel like recounting where I was when I heard or what my day was like ten years ago. That seems too self-oriented. It was a national event, an international tragedy. Yes, it changed my life too. But today, I chose to render my moment of silence next to the Pentagon, and to listen to words of remembrance, mourning, and fortitude from the mouths of our leaders and our plain and simple countrymen at Ground Zero early this morning. I choose to remember those whose lives were monumentally, tragically changed by the 9/11 attacks, and then I chose in the next moment, this moment, to celebrate the loved ones in my great life, and by so doing, express my thanks for the freedom, love, and blessings I have been given. I love my country, and I love the people in it. Here's praying for a renewed outpouring of unity, courage, faith, and love amongst my countrymen on this historic day.

And happy birthday, beautiful Maggie Leak! If you know Maggie or if you appreciate inspiring, intelligent, empathetic and funny people, hop on over to her blog and wish her a happy birthday, too!!!!!!

Piano

2011-09-10T10:22:00.000-04:00

Saw this guy and this girl play at a house concert last night. PERFECTION!

... Does he put anyone else in mind of a cartoon when he plays? He's so animated, I love it!!

Sports proposals: yea or nay? YAY!

2011-09-07T14:03:00.000-04:00

I don't care how much Richard Gere derides them in Runaway Bride (Julia Roberts had to propose to HIM at the end of that movie!)- proposals at sports venues have always made me smile. This one's EPIC. I love how much he makes her laugh. Best of luck to them both!

Proposal: Matt and Jennie (part 2--full version) from Emma Patti on Vimeo.

PS If I were him I'd want to beat the crap out of Teddy first, too. I always cheer for Lincoln when I'm at Nats Park. Teddy's so smug.

Lake Days... the most wonderful time of the year!

2011-09-05T18:59:00.000-04:00

Three day weekends mean one thing to us East Coasters: LET THE GOOD TIMES ROLL!

And this Labor Day weekend was no exception. This year's festivities took place at Deep Creek Lake in Maryland, where they filmed What Lies Beneath. In my younger, scared-ier days, this random piece of trivia would have defeated me. I would have stayed in rainy DC with my homework and my netflix rather than risk showering in a haunted bathtub.

But that was old me. New me is braver. And new me knew Deep Creek Lake comes with access to a ski boat. Again, let the good times roll!!!!!!

Welcome to Rivendell! 14 friends and I rented it for the weekend. It had doorknobs in the middle of its doors, hence the name. On the left is the home of our passive aggressive neighbors who I'm pretty sure woke their rambunctious kids up at 6:30 am just to annoy us.

The View From Rivendell. Bottom Left corner is our dock and friends taking it all in.

Saturday morning we awoke to a beautiful but freaky golden mist that covered the whole lake AND the sun! No one got a pic of it, but it reminded me of this J. M. W. Turner nautical painting so I'm putting it up. You get the idea!

10:30 am Saturday: Mist gone, people anxiously wait as Ryan and I fetch the rented ski boat. Ps all my pics have been stolen from Spencer's camera. Many thanks for documenting the trip, boo!

Turns out, only Ryan, our house "dad," and myself know how to drive boats. This is the start of my very long but very rewarding stint channeling Uncle Gene, Lake Mead Ski Captain extraordinaire! :)

So, East Coast lakes are SKETCHY! They don't enforce flag laws. With the heavy lake traffic roughing up the waters and being the safety Nazi that I am, I enlisted Nick to alert other boaters when we had a downed skiier. No injuries were sustained. Way to be, Team-Nick-and-life-vest!

I think I might be whistling in this pic.

At one point it was me and 7 first-time wakeboarders aboard. Everybody got up, though- I'm so proud of my crew!!!

Steph was a trooper- popped up smiling even after a faceplant!

Eric got up on his first try. It's cuz it was his birthday.

Cheesy lake grin. I wub boating sooooooo much! And it was SUCH a beautiful day to be out there!

Oh, except at one point the engine wasn't turning over and we had to get towed back to the marina and swap out boats. I learned I have a lot to learn when it comes to negotiating a discount with boat rental coordinators (aka pirates!)

And after a sweet sweet 8 hours on the sunny, perfect lake, we retired to Rivendell for an epic massage train and watched BYU clinch its season opener v. Ole Miss!!!

After that we celebrated Eric's bday at the Santa Fe Grill, where we met Elder Gerard, an area authority who saw our BYU shirts and wanted to celebrate with us. He sprang for all 15 of our meals!!! I love kind people! What a treat!

Eric and his ladies

Birthday boy eats REALLY slow.

Hoover and I ride the bear. <3

Awwwwww yea. How every singles weekend should end. There may have also been a midnight skinny dip off the dock...

Visual "-ism" Reader and a Challenge

2011-09-01T13:44:00.003-04:00

LOVE this- how many of these "-ism" illustrations can you explain to yourself?

No worries. I'm a lil rusty, too. :) Solipsism??

Good thing grad school started back up again this week!!!! My last year! The end is in sight!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! T-minus twelve months and counting! MORE exclamations!!!!!!!!!!!

If there were a "mormonism." illustration included up there, what do you think it'd be? How about this:

I will send 8 fresh fluffernutter cookie bars to whoever can tell me where this emblem is located! :) Hint: there are literally thousands of them just north of me.

remaking van gogh... into pixels.

2011-08-01T19:34:00.000-04:00

Holy mutt....

Click on it to make it even bigger!

from World-Shaker

Blatant steal, the heat made me do it.

2011-07-22T12:45:00.000-04:00

Re-posting from my friend Lauren's blog:

Yep that's us DC-ites, the hottest spot in the United States. Hey, THAT must be why the debt ceiling debate continues- NOBODY on the Hill can write a coherent compromise with sweat pouring into their eyes!

When I saw this, my eyes went straight to Vegas, because whenever the weather sucks here, I like to comfort myself by remembering that at least I'm not stuck in that perma-oven... oh wait. 75 DEGREES IN VEGAS!?!?!

BLAAAAAAAAAHHH!

TGIF.

TGIHAVEAC.

Pool this afternoon, mais oui.

You should follow my friend Lauren and her other blog, thingsiwouldsendlisa.blogspot.com. I'm kind of obsessed with it. She has impeccable taste in everything I care most about: baked goods, romantic/funny videos, girly accessories, traveling to GOOD places, etc.

In other news, my obsession with Twitch from So You Think You Can Dance made me do something last night I swore I would never do: sign up for Twitter. His "LiveTweet" session with Lauren Froderman was indeed worth it! After, I realized that since I crossed over the dark side into the Twittersphere, I might as well follow all the writers and museums whose Twitter feeds I've been Googling for the last 6 months anyways. Chuck Klosterman! The Whale at the Natural History Museum! Niall Ferguson! (His take-down of Mika from Morning Joe on MSNBC is the one video I turn to for solace when the Obama administration and Congress make me want to bang my head against the Washington Monument) If you are a Tweeter, follow me @SerendipLC. I can't guarantee I will tweet about anything other than the idiosyncrasies of my little life, but isn't that the whole point?

HP fans- It's worth the watch.

2011-07-16T18:35:00.000-04:00

Got a lil teary eyed too, it's ok:

Choices

2011-07-16T00:20:00.002-04:00

Almost blew my month's utilities on
these bad boys. Luckily I had a dinner
to run away to.

I have been really, REALLY antsy lately. Antsy for change, antsy for a challenge, antsy to get up and leave, to kiss someone, to buy big ticket items, to travel, to graduate, etc! It's just that season. My prayers lately have been almost frenetic; Heavenly Father has been getting an earful, lemme tell ya. "What do you think of me having a crush on _____? What should I work on right now? What comes next? How does a curatorial assistant job in California sound to you? Can you set that up? Am I doing enough in DC or do you want me to delve further? Are you still ok with me taking a year to finish this blasted degree? Will you bless me with charity? How am I doing? What else you got for me??"

Have you ever been in a similar state of mind? It might be a singles thing. Friends move in and out of my city and my life at record pace, literally: in my 320 member ward, there is usually a hundred person turnover each year. 100 out, 100 in. Lots of goodbye-I'll-never-forget-you's, followed by plenty of Nice-to-meet-you-what's-your-story's. I navigate never-ending rounds of engagements, grad school acceptances, sicknesses, birthdays, break-ups, promotions, and a million other occasions jostling the journeys of my friends at all times. Right about now is when I usually change jobs myself, or start a new semester, or move or do something crazy (kissing a guy in front of his whole football team last year, anybody??). I got absolutely NOTHING this July. I think that's the biggest thing that's got me on edge. At least it's summer and I can jet off to New York or the watering hole or a national festival and blow off some steam when necessary.

New mantra.

So what do you do with this mood? Certainly not make big decisions, but definitely start researching potentials. And go running a LOT. And stay away from the Nordstrom shoe rack.

This mood has caused me to revamp my habits, to create a better here and now. I have taken a hard look at my emotional and physical health the last month, with some interesting findings. You may have noticed some additions to my blogroll: I've started following a few health and fitness blogs for motivation and I have been working on building a better me. I know I feel better and have better organization and motivation when I go to sleep early--like WAY early, before 10-- and wake up early. I know I've got a massive sweet tooth and I am learning, SLOWLY, to keep it under control (Thank heavens for summer produce! Blueberries, sweet corn, and bell peppers, you are the loves of my life!) I find I am still, as always, rather reserved in large social settings, but I love finding people with big stories to listen to, and such people, and my besties out here, enrich my life and I am so thankful for them.

I was telling a good friend tonight that one of the greatest things DC has taught me is how to identify and maintain my own personal work-life balance. I know how much stress I can take without turning into a sad/cranky zombie. I know that if I am feeling a little depressed, it takes me around 4 days to get out of it, and that's ok, I WILL get out of it. I just have to cut back on a few extracurriculars (except service!) and watch the sugar intake. I don't feel the need to rush myself out of lulls anymore, and that in and of itself creates LESS lulls. I know I am a natural planner, and as I take a leading role in organizing my weekends with friends, I have a funner time (who wouldn't, with the gems I associate with out here, really?)

Is anyone still listening to my ramblings? The point is, I'm doing it. Living life, and living it as large as such a barely-anybody-mid-20s-girl can. I'm not good at everything, and sometimes it drives me NUTS that I'm in such a gypsy state of mind, but I'm working it out. Merci, mon pere celeste.

[No Title]

2011-07-11T21:19:00.000-04:00

Into Haiku now.

This blog's too narcissistic.

Post-Impressionists!

Georges Seurat, father of pointillism, Le Cirque 1891

Paul Cezanne, father of modern art depending on who you ask, Le golfe de Marseille vu de L'Estaque, 1878-9

Henri Matisse, father of fauvism, Luxe, Calme et Volupté, 1904

Paul Gauguin, father of a load of illegitimate children, such a pig, but a big name in art history. A Belle Angele, 1889

Vincent van Gogh, father of Expressionism and 1,000,000,000 Starry Night copies by first graders, including myself back in the day. L'église d'Auvers-sur-Oise, vue du chevet, 1890

All pictures from the

Musee d'Orsay collection.

I've seen them live! Meep.

A fine DC evening

2011-07-04T01:15:00.002-04:00

Tonight is the Third of July. The city's excitement for tomorrow's celebration is palpable, has been since Friday. Oh, wait, that's the coma-inducing humidity. Or maybe it's both.

Today I spent the whole morning in bed enjoying the AC and pounding down 200 pages of Dan Brown's The Lost Symbol (that's right, I broke the snobbish Washingtonian code of not acknowledging that book's existence. I make up for it by noting with distaste its manifold mistakes. I tell ya, I laughed right out loud when they started talking about the CIA "descending" into the King Street Metro... which is in fact above ground. And how about when the characters gasp in awe at Robert Langdon's revelation that the painting on the Capitol Rotunda is called "The Apotheosis of Washington"? Every intern and tourist in the WORLD could tell you that!)

I went to church today, listened to a lot of America-monies, came home, bolted down a wee bit of food, then looked outside my window with my impatient roommate as the thunder BOOMED and the rain came down in a sudden, swift sheet. It lasted about 25 minutes... right into 6:30, when we were supposed to be leaving. I donned my rainboots and rainjacket, enlisted the aid of a big umbrella and blankie, and together Kelly and I set off into the ocean that was 21st Street to meet up with our ward friends. Together we had all planned to drive into the city and find a good spot on the West Lawn of the Capitol in order to watch the dress rehearsal of tomorrow's grand Fourth of July concert. The dress rehersal is a Washington secret event that you must attend at least once to be a native. You go sit amidst a haughty upperclass picnicking crowd, watch Josh Groban or Natasha Bedingfield squint out at some unknown director behind the stagelights who asks them to "Stand here, look there, now sing it again." You have a great time and realize how awesome (and awesomely entertaining) your nation is.

Unfortunately, the rainstorms that preceeded our drive today also wreaked havoc on the Hill. We drove by crowds streaming AWAY from the Mall (bad sign), then we drove by a massive tree branch half on top of a misfigured red Yaris, half in the right lane of Independence Ave. (Another bad sign).

Undeterred, perhaps emboldened by the discovery of an impossibly good parking spot right next to the Library of Congress, we unloaded our gear and marched down towards the Hill on the offchance that something would change. Shepharded down to the lawn by cool and detatched Capitol police, we arrived alongside the stage to see the reason so many people had been leaving: part of the outdoor stage had collapsed in the storm and the show had indeed been cancelled. Other parts of the lawn also showed recent scars. We decided to make merry in the cool evening air on the lawn next to the Botanical Garden, a ways off from the stage. We sat across from a crumpled metal detector station (the winds had tipped over some HUGE concrete pylons! What a storm!) Police stood, bored, everywhere.

We played games we learned from EFY, nibbled snickerdoodles, and amused the tourists (I think there were 20 of us?). We listened as they fired canons (at least the military is undeterred by storms), we watched a glorious sunset, and we packed up as low clouds rolled in with accompanying thunder, forty-five minutes after we had settled down. As we departed, Josh Groban (or perhaps a recording of Josh Groban) began to sing, filling the entire top half of the mall with his glorious, mellifluous sound.

I came home to even MORE friends who were sitting around an open ice cream carton. We discussed timely events such as the last SYTYCD episode and the act of hugging. Tomorrow I'm renting a bike, going to breakfast and a parade and probably much more. It'll be great. But tonight... tonight was grand. What a good day to be here, in this beautiful spot of land. Today I remembered I live in the heart of my nation.

26

2011-06-27T21:23:00.005-04:00

Here's a list of fabulous things accomplished by people during their 25th year of life:

Orson Welles co-scripted, directed, and starred in Citizen Kane.

Charles Lindbergh became the first person to fly alone across the Atlantic, thus winning a $25,000 prize.

Fayette, N.Y. farmhand Joseph Smith founded the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints after translating the Book of Mormon from golden tablets revealed to him by the angel Moroni.

Physician Roger Bannister broke the four minute mile. As he collapsed unconscious into the arms of his trainer, the loudspeaker announced, "The time was three..." The uproar of the fans drowned out the rest of the announcement.

Natalie Wood earned her third Oscar nomination.

Charles Chaplin appeared in his 35th film.

I, Lindsey Ann, earned approximately $14,000, opened two bakeries, took out my endowments in the LDS Las Vegas temple, did research at FBI headquarters, fell in love with Ethiopian art, traveled to New York City 3x, rode a blue bike along the Outer Banks, saw Brad Paisley in concert, and loved my friends and family.

Ashley and I on the NYC Subway

Blue bike on Bonito Road... I think my face accurately expresses how I felt about being alive at that moment.

Marissa, Brad, and I, rockin out

Miracles occur. These three besties making it down to Vegas for my endowment was one of them.

Example of the type of contemporary Ethiopian art that lights my fire! by Wosene Kosrof

Me and Amanda, my boss at Crumbs.
She also had never opened a store before, I think we did a pretty good job!!

More besties

Notable accomplishments by people age 26:

Albert Einstein published five major research papers in a German physics journal, fundamentally changing man's view of the universe and leading to such inventions as television and the atomic bomb.

Benjamin Franklin published the first edition of Poor Richard's Almanac, which was to play a large role in molding the diverse American character.

College dropout Steve Wozniak co-founded Apple Computer.

Eli Whitney invented the cotton gin, revolutionizing the economies of the United States and Britain.

British ethologist Jane Goodall set up camp in the Gombe Stream Chimpanzee Reserve on Lake Tanganyika and began studying the lives of chimpanzees.

Napoleon Bonaparte conquered Italy.

... My journey for similar glory starts tomorrow. I'm turning 26.

Some ideas for how to change the world in a year:

- Continue to get more education

- Be financially self-reliant and thus be prepared to aid others

- Deepen my relationship with Jesus Christ and invite others to get to know him, too

- Marry up and start making wicked smart, funny, beautiful babies

- Pass my French certification

- Stop running the tap while I brush my teeth

- Laugh til I cry with choice friends
- Get a new stamp in my passport

- Be in the right time at the right place for somebody

Dad Day

2011-06-19T23:54:00.000-04:00

At my cousin’s family ward in New Jersey this morning, I found myself envying the part-to-play that belongs to little kids on Father’s Day. You elbow your way to the front of the stand in sacrament meeting so you can wave to him, add your own warbley strain to the off-key chorus of “My Daddy is My Favorite Pal,” and then during Primary, you color a cut-out tie that your Dad will sport proudly for twenty minutes (or, if you are MY DAD, twenty years. Every Father’s day his now-giant paper tie makes its annual appearance in the Buffalo Ward, filling his 26, 24, 22, 20, and 17-year-old kids’ hearts with pride. I love you for that, Dad).

I envied the kids today because Father’s Day gets harder as you get older, as you learn to love your Dad for new, grown-up things. He became your friend somewhere in between your last year in college and your first grown-up paycheck. You realized that he is just a regular guy who faces both his own troubles and those of his wife and kids. He meets these trials with a smile on his face that is sometimes pretended, but most times summoned up from the bottom of his loyal, brave, faithful, family-man heart. It’s hard work, being a grown-up dad. Thanks for all your hard work, my Dad. (Which work is easier, now that it’s all over: keeping 5 adult kids on track or waking up at 3 am to feed and lull 5 babies to sleep for about 10 years straight? I’m curious.)

So what do you do on Father’s Day when a paper tie ceases to convey the fullness of your affection for him and the role he plays in your life? Some people resort to silk ties, some people to a new set of tools. I’ve tried these gifts in the past, only to see Dad’s interest in them fade from his face almost as quickly as he opens the gift bag* (my Dad’s ridiculously honest face hides absolutely NONE of his emotions, for better or worse). I’ve gotten closer to the mark for a few years with books for presents. Those are more up my Dad’s alley, mostly they because they represent ideas, idols, or goals to set. That right there is speaking my Dad’s language.

But if you choose the wrong book, heaven help you. You might as well have given him that “One Free Chore” coupon you gave him when you were 10 that you obnoxiously refused to honor three months after its bestowal.

(In case you’re wondering, siblings, in terms of the types of books you are thinking of buying for him, David McCullough is less than Mitch Albom is less than C. S. Lewis is less than Eugene England.)

Ok he's not exactly smiling at this MOMENT, but this was that night.
There's Grandpa, Wee, Dad, and the Metropolitan's sweet water fountain entry.

I’m trying to think of when my Daddy’s face has lit up the brightest and clearest. That’s what I want to bring to him this and every Father’s Day. The last time I saw that look on his face was when we took HIS Dad with us and as a family explored the new Cosmopolitan casino. Dad the architect loves to expound upon the different tricks the designers build into the walls and floors of a multi-million dollar building, loves asking us to think twice about how they managed to put an entire restaurant atop a small, curving pole or made a water fountain of ice (I still can’t figure it out, but it’s rad).

Ice water fountain. What? How?? I don't know. But I touched it. Solid ice.

Sweet Dad smile! Cheesy rest of us smile.

Before that night, I saw him happiest when we took pictures together at the temple after I took out my endowments, right after Marcus came home from his mission. I sure am grateful for a father who loves his eternal family and values them above all else. The benefits I have received from that devotion I am sure are untold and innumerable.

So. How to bring that smile back when 4/6ths of “his people” live in states other than his? Dad, this is what I’d like to tell you today: the only thing I can do that I think makes you smile is live my life with daring, cunning, faith, and love. I’m three semesters away from my Master’s, I live in a beautiful and challenging city, and I plan on skipping back to the West the second I’m done. I love our church, I love and worry about our family every day, and I take extremely frugal but fabulous vacations like you’ve taught me, so that I make good memories but don’t go bankrupt in the process. Most days I credit you with the part of me that is driven to succeed, to question things, to be devoted wholeheartedly to those I love. For those qualities and many more instilled in me by you and by our beautiful, graceful mother, I thank you. Happy Father’s Day, Eric. I’m doing my best out here, thanks for all your support. I love you.

Happy Father’s Day to everyone who has ever been a father, who wants to be a father someday, or who today feels their heart well up with gratitude for their own father or the father of their children.

* Talking to my Dad tonight I was informed that my sister did in fact give him a tie this year, about which he remarked, "Well, you do always gotta have these things!"

Thank you

2011-06-10T11:53:00.000-04:00

I have some fantabulous, amazing friends who have decided for some unwarranted reason to build me up lately. Seriously, you guys make me feel DANG good and I'm 100% positive I don't deserve you but I'm remaining insanely grateful for my good fortune. Whether we're connecting through Duck Beach mania, a three-day long text message conversation, a four hour So You Think You Can Dance marathon, or skyping til way past my bedtime, I'm feeling good, and feeling lucky, because I have you for a friend. Thank YOU.

Miss curator-in-training takes on So You Think You Can Dance

2011-05-24T15:26:00.001-04:00

The TV show that makes me regress into a squeally 16-year-old is BAAAAAAAAACK!!!!!!!!!

YAYAYAYAYAYAY!

Say what you will about the annoying judges and the built-in bias of the partner system, EVERY SINGLE SEASON of So You Think You Can Dance rolls out unbelievably beautiful choreography and insanely talented dancers. I LOVE LOVE LOVE to watch it and critique. (Thank you Breann, my high school best friend and national champion BYU Cougarette, for teaching me how to watch dance like a dancer. I now notice when someone doesn't extend all the way through their hands and feet, I can estimate the amount of control a dancer has in his or her spine, and most importantly, I can and will fall in love with any dancer who tries and succeeds with a smile.)

The glory of the show lies in such ambitious dancers. They've been doing this since diapers, but they still have to grow into the dance genres they don't know (and let's be real: sometimes they downright suck. The Quickstep? Who even DOES that anymore?). They gripe, grind, sometimes break, but best of all, they come out swinging and we watchers reap the rewards. And the choreographers, the nation's BEST choreographers, roll out the most imaginative routines you can imagine, week after week. Addiction. A gleeful prison break. Zombies. Happy feet.

As someone who is glued to her tv set during this show's summer run, I feel knowledgeable enough to compile a break-down post for you nay-sayers and on-the-fencers. Here's some of last year's greatest hits:

Robert and Kathryn do a truly unique twist on West Side Story (It won't let me embed, sorry!) Watch for when she uses his tie to flip him around- SWEET!

Still makes me cry: This dance tells the story of a guy taking care of his sick mom. Set to Coldplay's "Fix You." Robert is a fox.

Lauren was the winner last year, and this was my favorite of her dances. Keep in mind, she is NOT a hip-hip dancer, but you would never know from this video!!! Her uh, tumbleweed flips--- didn't know those were possible!!!!

I can never say enough about Twitch Boss- He is my celebrity husband. I want to make sweet sweet hip-hop magic with him all day long. I got to meet him in 2008 after the So You Think You Can Dance tour came through Salt Lake, and I bear hugged him and stammered out, "Twitch... I love you!" No lie. BEST. NIGHT. EVER! He should have won his year. He is by far the most talented and all-around likable performer the show has ever seen. Don't believe me?

WATCH:

SO.

D@*%.

LOVABLE.

I could go on. and on. and on. When I get started youtubing SYTYCD clips, it turns into a two hour event.

The show always inspires me to download new music (its music selection is famous for being both quirky and in tune with the Billboards). The show gives a mark of distinction to any choreographer it asks to submit routines. Many of the show's numbers have earned their creators Emmys (My favorite choreographers: Desmond Richardson, Wade Robson, Tabitha and Napolean, Shane Sparks, and Sonya Tayeh. "These Arms of Mine" is about soulmates who can't find each other and yet can feel them in their arms. Tear!)

I'll leave you with my all-time favorite dance, both soulful and sick (Dancer slang for "unbelievably on point"). I have watched it probably 100 times and can picture it perfectly in my head whenever this song comes on the radio. Chelsea and Mark (Season 4) were tasked with dancing out true 21st-century heartache, depicting the way love dies when a partner gets cold and selfish. As the judges later remarked, theirs is an epic performance because they both exhibited the emotion of this story in their eyes as well as their movements: Chelsea the miserable wife and Mark the workaholic. Choreographed by my favorite husband-and-wife hip-hop duo, Tabitha and Napolean, here's the iconic Bleeding Love, which came out right at the hey-day of Leona Lewis' popularity:

I tivo the show each week, so if you're in Arlington and you feel the need to be a fan, as you should, come on down!

The rip-off of being a girl?

2011-05-22T23:18:00.000-04:00

This is a slightly dicey topic, and I don't mean it to be, I would just like to solicit a few people's thoughts and suggestions. Lately I've been kind of bummed out by how unfair being a girl in this day and age, and, honestly, in this church, can be.

Please note- I am more often than not delighted with my life; the sweet caliber of dreams I have in store for my future and the wonderful caliber of friends and family I have at present keep me always filled with hope, always pressing onward.

BUT

when I see ex's and guyfriends who have the ability to just... DATE, as much as they want, when they want,

when I talk to my married girlfriends and see that they are genuinely frustrated with the way they've been told all their lives to get education and to excel, and now face seemingly endless hours alone with a small baby and a tv,

when I continue to feel like I'm just floating, with 1,000 possibilities for my future where I'd rather have just one or two or ten max,

I start to ask questions. Not despairing questions, just questions.

HOW TO DEAL should be the title of this post. Because dealing with STUFF is one of the most superb gifts of God, I swear. "Everyone has stuff," I've found myself saying over and over again this past month. How to deal with stuff with grace, wisdom, faith, and-- heaven help me-- a sense of humor, is so important to each individual person I know, and to the billions I don't know.

My answers to such questions have been jolting, half-answers, but maybe they're meant to be that way, as this is all a part of growing up and getting wise:

"For there is much which lieth in futurity" says the Savior to the first prophet of this dispensation while he sat in Liberty Jail. (D & C 123:15)

"Who knoweth whether thou art come to the kingdom for such a time as this?" Mordecai muses to a pensive Esther as she considers whether or not to risk her life for the sake of her people. (Esther 4:14)

"Let us lay aside every weight..., and let us run with patience the race that is set before us, Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith" cheers Paul to the Hebrews who were unsure of their place (and pace) in the march onward as new Christians. (Hebrews 12: 1-2)

I sat in on a stake conference broadcast in New York City this morning. Do you know what M. Russell Ballard told me? To cultivate gratitude first, hope second. One can change any situation by finding the implicit blessings to be thankful for within it. He cited a wealthy friend who in one night saw his entire factory, the source of his and many of his extended family members' livelihoods, burn the the ground. He knelt down and, weeping, thanked God for the safety of his whole family.

With gratitude comes a clearer vision of blessings we want in the future, things to hope for. I hope for a future where I learn to be unselfish, where I teach people about art and Jesus Christ, where I am married to someone who will "return my love abundantly," and where I become a mother of challenging, but beautiful, little people with incredible spirits.

Wait, what was I whining about again?

:)

Yarn Bombing: The Feminine Graffiti

2011-05-18T18:53:00.000-04:00

I'm in love with this story. One of the knitting gangs is even called "Knitta Please." I know one of my professors at GW is really watching the craft movement closely for her research, which makes me think this phenomenon is not going to fade away. What do you think? Is it art????

Here's a happily-orchestrated video of one of the knit-artists bombing the Bull on Wall Street, worth a watch:

Pollyanna Eyes

2011-05-16T22:14:00.003-04:00

Lately, I have been trying out small ways to better my life (as much as I hate to admit it, I've even been browsing those cutesy "500 ways to brighten your day" blogs). As you may well know from reading THIS blog, I am an idealist, and as such, I have the bad habit of forgoing daily enjoyment for the sake of worrying about how I can better the world in the future.

Recently, my delightfully wise BFF told me she makes her decisions based on the criteria, "Will this make me happy?" and that was like a revelation to me. "You can DO that??? But... what about Ethiopian orphans? Washington politicos and their lack of touch with reality? The absence of basic art appreciation in America? What about my family???"

All in good time, my pretties. All in good time.

The following are the effective tricks I've been trying out to just get happy! Daily! I dare you to try one out. Or send me a new challenge I can try.

- Talk a stranger every day (Going two weeks strong with this and I'm likin it, and my neighbors and a few cashiers all now like me)

- Eat something green daily

-Take note of what your face looks like when you're home alone. Try to brighten that up by keeping your face how it looks after you say "Cheese Whiz"

- Make up impossible stories inspired by real life (I'm currently envisioning an epic battle between the DC and the VA squirrel populations. The dark and swarthy black squirrel who presides over my backyard is the hero)

- Find a good recipe, go grocery shopping only for its ingredients, bake, and give to friends

- Volunteer to babysit for married friends for free

- Enjoy quality time with a wee one, get down to their level (literally... try being 2 feet tall again. Gives you more empathy.)

- Start a savings account and add something, anything, to it bi-weekly

- Make your bed (this small act of orderliness totally makes a difference in my chi! And this coming from a girl who NEVER, EVER made her bed before age 18)

- Recite a positive mantra to yourself in the morning (it feels corny, but I go with the Young Women's theme. If that fails, I also have a Valentine's Day card I reread,

You really deserve the best! You are so beautiful, wise, and intelligent. Steadfast, true to yourself, hard working, COOL, INTERESTING :), lovely, and courageous- truly a great and wonderful person! I love you more than you know!

Sisters are so useful)

- Be honest today. With yourself, with God, with others

- Drink lemonade instead of water

-Use superglue to hold together your favorite shoes and REFUSE to stop wearing them (this one did not come from anyone else's list... it was inspired by my beloved Payless-Steve-Madden-Knock-Off-Silver-Ballet-Flats, age 7)

-Like Pollyanna, find something to be glad about

Not quite career advice, but perhaps a sign that I'm headed in the right direction

2011-05-11T18:26:00.000-04:00

This just in: This world-famous newlywed earned a degree in art history. If she can do it, I can do it.

Lullaby

2011-05-02T23:27:00.001-04:00

I can't sleep tonight, although the video above is helping. Today has been the first (and hopefully only) day of my life made absolutely fabulous by the death of another human being. Say it with me now, "OSAMA'S A GONER!!!!" Did anyone else get teary-eyed watching the people celebrate into the night at Ground Zero?

It's my little brother Marcus' 22nd birthday. I made strawberry-oat muffins at 10:30 pm this evening to commemorate his life. I ate them with relish (figuratively, not literally- ew) at 10:31pm to keep the party going. I miss siblings. It's one of the hardest things about the East Coast.

I miss art. I miss learning about art right now. One of the walls in my room is stripped bare in preparation for an art project, because I need something to fill the creative void. I've got some good ideas a'brewin.

I have great roommates. Whether they are trusting me with their real thoughts on life, love, and family, driving me places, bringing me home Cafe Rio, or unwittingly setting a good example to me by unobtrusively serving and loving the people around them (I SEE YOU THREE!), they make life out here a lot more bearable.

And with that, I close my lullaby post- it doesn't mean much in the long run, but it's bringing a little softness to the end of my day.

Sugar-Fast FAIL!

2011-04-16T12:23:00.000-04:00

That's right, I'm almost done with no-sugar-for-lent. It has been a rough, no-rewards journey. Next Sunday, as the world celebrates the resurrection of our Savior, I will commemorate the concurrent close of the ascetic season with a truckload of Reese's Peanut Butter Eggs and these two sugar-coma-inducing recipes I have been eyeballing for a month.

The secret truth is, I don't feel like this sugar-heist got me anywhere I'd envisioned or wanted to go. I've gained 5 pounds. I've felt HORRIBLE about myself when in desperation I've jumped onto such grey-area foods as yogurt-covered raisins, carrot-blueberry muffins, and sugar-free chocolate. I feel a little bit less healthy than I did before, when I still had my idealistic faith in the edict that sugar is toxic and that my 52-day sugar fast would rid me of my sweet tooth and set me on a more pristine, composed, and healthy life path than the cupcake-lined path I slogged along before.*

Thus I find myself this Friday morning with a commitment to see the course, but vanished enthusiasm for the game. As I polish off my second costco bag of dried fruit (they taste like gummies!), I attempt to make sense of the last two months and to spy out where I should go from here. I do NOT accept defeat easily. I wanted this sugar fast to really have an impact instead of make me hungry for two months. I have actually been mulling over the idea to keep on with the sugar fast after Lent, see if the change from rainy spring to outdoors-filled sunny spring will help any. My reasoning looks like this:

Good: I can fall asleep on demand and wake up feeling more refreshed than in months past. Must continue.

Bad: I have most definitely subsidized the sugar-gap with carbs (Popcorn! Wheat-thins! Baked Mac n'Cheese! Anything to make me feel full!!) Must quit this.

Good: I saved money. Must always do this.

Bad: I rarely work out now, although that could be a combination of allergies, three weeks of rain, and the lack of sugar to guilt me into working out on a weekly basis. MUST do better!

Good: I proved to myself that I have real will-power during the ultimate test a few weeks ago: I sat and ordered only diet Coke for dessert on a date at the Carlyle!! Go me.

Bad: I had to sit and watch my date and some other people enjoy a famed white chocolate bread pudding and an enormous slice of apple-pie-almond-streusel at the Carlyle for a solid forty minutes! Sad day.

I know several other people that have done the sugar-fast this season, does anyone have any differing conclusions? I'd love to hear stories!

-----------------

I'm back from a run. Today was the first day of the year that I could actually feel heat rising from the blacktop as I ran (the kind of atmosphere that turns me into a consistent outdoor runner). Today was the first day I've topped four miles in MONTHS! I ran 5.58 miles today at a consistent pace, and if you know me, that is a miracle. I am very much a sprint-walk-sprint-walk type of runner. Sustained pacing seems to be completely incompatible with my impatient little legs, which is why I'll never run a marathon (without great pain and frustration and cursing at whatever hot boyfriend made me run it with him). Maybe this sugar-fast DOES have more pluses to it than I thought.

While I was running, I decided on a new course. I am indeed going to continue with this sugarless experiment after Easter. I failed my sugar fast, and after Easter I'll go at it again throughout the weeks, although I will afford myself a little more leniency when friends are going out for dessert or when I have a hankering to bake. Given the upswing in outside temperature and the ample time I have for running now, I think I could pull this off til my birthday, in June.

Call me crazy. Sometimes you just want to experiment with life, right?

I might have a celebratory Milkshake cupcake next week (yes, that's one of Crumbs' flavors). I might make those peanut butter chocolate cookies I mentioned before and stuff myself and my friends silly Easter weekend. But come April 25th (Happy Birthday Katie!), I'm gonna keep on going. For funzies.

Best thing you'll see all day

2011-04-13T11:58:00.000-04:00

My immaturity comes out in full bloom at Costco.

2011-04-11T22:34:00.001-04:00

Scene 1 (two weeks ago)

I see the Tangled DVD on sale at Costco, grab it, hug it to my cheek, and start jumping up and down and squealing with delight. Two stodgy middle-aged men next to me stare disapprovingly.

Scene 2 (almost every time I go)

Everyone else shepherds heavy carts of stuff to the checkout, while I stand in line with a lone milk carton, a veggie, and sometimes a cheap DVD on the ground in front of me. Sometimes I open up my new bag of Kirtland dried fruit and EAT IT right in front of other line-standers to feel like even more of a Costco renegade. In your face, baldy!

Scene 3 (EVERY TIME I go)

I have to suppress a giggle when I pass these in the frozen section:

Because I always, ALWAYS, read,

"Spanktopia."

BAHAHAHAHAHA!

Fin.

Rules of Chillin

2011-03-31T23:45:00.002-04:00

For Kathryn the Energizer bunny, who does not know the joy of unproductivity

1. Start by walking into your room and donning your sweats... with NO intention of working out.
2. Go to your fridge and look in it multiple times for funzies... After a while pick something to nibble.
3. There should be at least four tabs open on your browser: facebook, an interesting link someone posted on facebook, and two or more of your other internet guilty pleasures. (if you are not a big internet surfer, some suggestions include mymodernmet.com, dcist.com, the nytimes style section, cooking blogs, or hulu.com. Guys, I'm really enjoying Cougartown. There. I said it).
4. Ideally, you should have a roommate and friends around so you can discuss such non-pressing issues as kissing, your next grocery run, the eternal work-out-or-not-work-out debate, and what would happen if the squirrels of DC attacked Virginia.
5. Text Somebody!
6. If there is a couch, sit on it. If there is a footstool, or a coffee table, or pretty much anything foot level in front of the couch, put your feet up. Use the remote.
7. If you are lucky enough to have a significant other, CUDDLE CUDDLE CUDDLE! Do it baby. Take one for the team.

In short,

You MAY:
Listen to music
Be outside on the grass
Be on vacation
Pop popcorn
Fall asleep
Be Happy

You May NOT:
Learn stuff you will use later in life
Burn calories (except from laughing or chasing squirrels)
Clean
Accomplish anything you had intended to do when you got up this morning
Worry
Grow old before your time

Any questions??

Illustrations:

Embrace Your Liberty's most repeated words, in mug form!

2011-03-29T19:28:00.000-04:00

Random Pretty Things I Found

2011-03-23T20:38:00.000-04:00

DCist Flickr Pool

Pics 1, 2, and 3 are from mymodernmet.com, a drool-worthy arts blog. Every day, it never disappoints.

March Madness Queen

2011-03-20T23:54:00.001-04:00

When your 80 year old grandfather writes the whole family an email and tells us he was Jimmered Thursday through Saturday watching BYU rock the first two rounds of the NCAA Men's BBall tourney, you know it was a good year to be really into March Madness. When your alma mater's frontman is a shoo-in for national player of the year (52 points in one GAME!) and his name inspires worship from men, women, and children of all religions even 2,000 miles away from his university, you know it was a good year to be into March Madness. When more first and second round games ended as buzzer beaters than ever and you see some MAJOR heart break played out through bizarre last-second foul shots (so sorry, Pitt), you know it was an excellent year to be into March Madness!!! Needless to say, this has been a great week, and promises to be a great month. This is my greatest source of joy this month of March:

Yes, that is my bracket. On top of my singles ward's 84-person pool. It's been up there since the second day of the tourney (I went for broke with a couple sweet sixteen upsets though, we'll see how long I remain the Queen). I worked super hard on my bracket this year, using a cool "Blind Bracket" feature from wsj.com where you picked winners based purely on strengths and weaknesses, you weren't shown the names of the teams. I still somehow ended up with BYU and SDSU in the Final Four and I took that as a sign. I rolled with all of my blind bracket picks, except I advanced Ohio and ODU more than the blind bracket said to (The Ohio bet is panning out, ODU not so much).

I FINALLY understand what Ben Herman was talking about in 12th grade when he screamed, " AHHH I love March Madness so much!" in the middle of broadcast journalism in an slightly inappropriate groan (I remember it vividly cuz I couldn't understand what would provoke that kind of frenzy). Now I know. Talking sports with guys is the best, btw, because they get so excited that they lose a lot of their cool front, one of the cutest and most refreshing things ever. My first-place rank at the top of my church pool got me a shout-out in Elder's Quorum today, every girl's fondest dream. Like you, Ben, now I can say exuberantly: I LOVE MARCH MADNESS SO MUCH!

I'll be honest, I love the drama of sports, which is why I tend to check in during tournaments and bowl series, not so much regular season stuff (unless it's BYU men's volleyball, football, or Jimmer, of course). And I only bother following college sports. One of the best lines I've heard on Sportscenter this week is, "College ball is a coach's game. NBA is a player's game." So true, and that's why I love college sports. All about the heart, the team, the learning curve, the four-year window of opportunity. Not the million-dollar contract. Any thoughts on this? It has been pointed out to me recently that I have never actually been to most kinds of pro sporting events- no NBA, NFL, NHL games for me, ever. (Baseball, yes). What can I say, I'm from Las Vegas. The closest teams are in LA!

I have been following basketball this year since the first SDSU game, I feel like that's legit. To all my girlfriends out there that are bemoaning the total absence of attention from their men this month, take it from me: it's actually really fun to delve into the game of basketball! This year, I've learned how seeding works, what "off the boards" and "in the paint" mean, how drawing fouls can actually be a recognized skill for a team, what to look for in a talented player, and how crappy Charles Barkley's predictions are compared to mine (BOOYAH). As you all know, I am an arts girl, so this a rare and awesome moment for me, this sports post. I'm just writing to let you know that I'm seeing the beauty in sports, the beauty of effort, which, if you're a guy, I probably don't have to describe you (or if you are a really awesome girl). Fun, crazy, interesting, emotional, beautiful stuff, that basketball. The month of March just shot up the charts in my book. Now here's hoping Kansas and BYU continue to shoot up the bracket...

(I just had to throw this in- it's been in my head for two weeks)

because because because

2011-03-15T23:35:00.001-04:00

Because it saved my non-sugary life today:

(It's a Greek Yogurt flavored like veggies and ranch. Aka it flavor-fies AND healthifies the pita chips I'm still downing like mad. Day 7 of non-sugar-Lent, going strong!)

Because I'm happily obsessed with this band:

(I don't remember whose facebook/gchat status first introduced me to the band The Civil Wars, but thank you. I had a REALLY long inner debate between four of their tracks to bring to the blog today, that's how good they are. This video won because they took a traditionally happy song and made it sad and somehow made it better and that is NOT easy to do! Mad props, you two.)

Because I'm feeling nostalgic today:

Come here!

Come back!

Parental jackpot. I tells you.

You come here too. :)

Because we talked about the parable of the sower in Sunday school this week and it got me pondering how many scriptures use flowers and plants to drive their point home:

Mark 4: Out went the sower to sow, by the wayside, on the stony ground, among the thorns, and finally, "other fell on good ground, and did yield fruit that sprang up and increased; and brought forth, some thirty, and some sixty, and some an hundred. He that hath ears to hear let him hear."

Manet.

Isaiah 35:1 The wilderness and the solitary place shall be glad for them; and the desert shall rejoice, and blossom as the rose.

Alma 32:28 ye will begin to say within yourselves- It must needs be that this is a good seed, or that the word is good, for it beginneth to enlarge my soul; yea, it beginneth to enlighten my understanding, yea, it beginneth to be delicious unto me.

D & C, Luke, Matthew, AND 3rd Nephi: "Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow, they toil not, neither do they spin, and the kingdoms of the world, in all their glory, are not arrayed like one of these.

There's so many more. Be on the lookout for them this spring :)

End of Day 2. Good Lord this is hard.

2011-03-11T00:46:00.001-05:00

So, I am giving up sugar for Lent, and it is ridiculous. I'm still true to my goal, but I've definitely nose-dived in other categories to make up for it. I'm going to be keeping track of this "journey" to sugar will-power though!! (haha... "journey." American Idol/Bachelor script writers' annoying go-to word).

Items that replaced Beloved Sugar with mild-to-moderate success today and yesterday:

1. EXCEDRIN*

2. Pita Chips. Bags at a time.

3. Water

* The fact that I have had a spine-to-skull headache for two days is really, really the reason (besides religion) why I am undertaking this fast. I can feel my addiction to sugar, the inability to withstand it, and it worries me. If you are a sporadic health-nut in America, like me, you no doubt have come across a health blog or magazine article in the last 3 years extolling the addictive and destructive qualities of white processed sugar (such an innocuous little monster...). Many experts now believe sugar is more hard to kick than cigarettes (it stays in your SPINE for two weeks before your cravings begins to wane!). As stewards of wonderful bodies, this fact should definitely disturb us. Yes, this is a mild soapbox issue with me, admittedly because it's something I'm trying to overcome. Sugar negatively affects our sleep patterns, attention span, ability to focus, and more obviously and most worrisomely (is that a word?), our metabolism and our ability to transition from different emotions or moods effectively.

I remember the last time I was off sugar. I NOTICED how less roller-coaster-y my emotions were. It was fantastic. Day 2- rough but going strong!

Sugar already appears in my diet in the guise of high-fructose corn syrup and the like, my goal is to just eliminate the obvious sweets that will give me a rush without a SHRED of nutritional value (and we all know that kind of sugar when we eat it. Candy, baked goods, sugar drinks, etc).

Besides Excedrin, today's Lindsey Life-Saver award goes to:

The apple. My body couldn't handle no sugar, so this is what I stuffed it with. Day 2 complete, stay tuned to hear what challenges lie ahead in Day 3 of the Sugar Sabbatical 2011, including a visit to the bakery with a new Birthday Cupcake potentially free for me to sample if I so desire. Dun-dun DUN!

I'm not Catholic, but...

2011-03-09T21:54:00.001-05:00

After 6 months of being that-> girl, I have decided to give up sweets for Lent. 18ish hours in, and my head is splitting!!! It's going to be a long 42 days, wish me luck. The last time I tried to give up sugar I made it to 10 am, when I walked into work and found a box of donut holes sitting on a table. Self-control, not my forte.

I'm not Catholic, but I gave up facebook for Lent last year with a friend from school and I found it a really rewarding experience; giving up something you love, er, use all the time, and thinking about the Savior when you want to cave. Cupcake-the-size-of-my-head, I'll see you at Easter! We shall rejoice!

Still. Life.

2011-02-24T21:20:00.001-05:00

I've woken up to this pretty vase of roses every morning since Valentine's day (it was the parents' wonderful little gift from afar off), and I have really, REALLY enjoyed the act of sitting (er, laying) and contemplating the roses. My thoughts turn to the art of the still-life inevitably, every time. Still-lifes, as we art historians are allowed to misspell them, are a little like landscapes to me. I know I don't give them the time and attention and reverence they deserve, and I am ashamed. But they're notably on the shelf of things to get obsessed with later in my studies. Still-lifes can be just about the most ridiculously beautiful and thought-provoking paintings out there. My prejudice stems from the fact that I am always befuddled when I look at them. The same question always comes up: "Did the artist paint this for him/herself, or for me?"

Paul Cezanne. Still Life with Apples and Peaches. 1905. NGA.
This artist's simple, slightly jarred and blocky still-lifes inspired
modernism as we know it. Can you see the glimmer in there?
The force that changed art forever?

The glory of a still-life is that it captures an object, its contours and colors, in all their mundanity or magnificence, and holds them there for eternity. I always am disturbed by the thought that it must have been ten times more stimulating to create a still life than to look at one. I've seen an artist's studio when it's still-life time. The whole room, every single thing in it, seems to revolve around that simple table with fruit on it, or set of dishes. Lights shine in that direction. Chairs are arranged just so around that central place. And the artist's canvas is invariably located somewhere nearby, propped on an easel, prepped and ready to contain the artist's best efforts to replicate what lies at center stage. A plant, or a banana, or a dead goose. Or a hammer, or a sculputre, or a goldfish. The possibilities for still-life subjects are endless.

Some of the world's most lovely things are to be found all around us, commonplace yet stately. Giorgio Morandi (1890-1960) knew this secret well. Living in Italy during the turn of the last century, a quiet man amidst the raging fascist movement that consumed his country, Morandi spent his time and energy on something so ordinary yet riveting that his works have earned a permanent place in art history. Morandi spent forty+ years painting the same set of familiar bottles and pitchers, rearranged in various positions. Forty years. But oh, how his works shimmer, in their stately greys and pale tans, day after day, painting after painting:

Giorgio Morandi. Still Life. 1955. Oil on canvas.

Giorgio Morandi. Still Life. 1956. Oil on canvas.

It's not only the bottles, their curves and coloring, their shadows (or lack thereof) that is to be contemplated in these works. It's the composition of the paintings, the balance of tall and thin, short and squat, near and far, that we find the artist has deftly manipulated. It's in the sheer magnitude of creativity that the artist could sustain with such a limited set of models. Morandi: in a word, thoughtful. (a second word would be: bottle.)

In case you're wondering, all still-lifes do NOT originate in the artist's peaceful contemplation of their surroundings. Most definitely not. I talked on M.C.'s blog about the potentially unnerving qualities of Wayne Thiebaud's paintings of pies, and here is another example of a still life that is far from peaceful:

Henri Matisse, The Goldfish, oil on canvas, 1912

This is one of my personal favorites paintings, not because of its mysterious aura of calm, but because of it's ENERGY! The thing I probably love most about still-lifes is how they get you to compare paint with real objects. No, that's not real glass up there, but it looks pretty darn close. How did Matisse do that?? Through black lines, placed really close to white lines, can you see them? Carefully observe your drinking glasses today. See if you can see the lines there, too.

If you ever want to sound REALLY artsy, start mentioning Dutch still-lifes. The Dutch artists from the 1600s are art history's premiere still-life geniuses. You just can NOT get better than this, agreed?

Willem Claesz Heda. Banquest Piece with Mince Pie, 1635. NGA.

The pewter pot! The satin sheen! The spiraling orange peel! And it's all an illusory trick of paint on paint! Those Dutch. They were magical. Let's get a little bit bigger image, shall we?

Willem Claesz Heda, Still Life with Oysters, a Silver Tazza, and Glass Ware, 1635. The Met.

That's more like it. Again, magic. Often, Dutch still-lifes have quite a heavy hidden content to convey. The Dutch still-lifes capture things ephemeral and temporary, such as cut flowers, ripe fruit, bubbles, and candles, which are meant to remind viewers that not everything lasts (so you'd better be obedient!). It's a poignant and often sobering thought, that those things which may on canvas appear eternal and valuable, will, in reality, wither away, just as human life will. There's a word for these types of still-lifes: Vanitas. As in, do not be vain like the silly flowers, their value lasts only a day.

400 years later, Ori Gersht, a photographer from Israel, chose to resurrect this concept in his still-lifes. I've talked about Gersht before: he sets up elaborate still-life arrangements (dead goose, cut flowers, ripe fruit, etc., all the classics), but then he rigs them with explosives and detonates them, capturing their untimely destruction with a high speed camera. Voila Ori Gersht:

Ori Gersht. Blow Up: Untitled 4. 2007.

He also does the same thing in videos (putting the video in a framed flatscreen so it LOOKS like a painting, seen here). His works a beautiful and eerie reminder of what kinds of destruction modern man can wreak upon even his most favorite sources of beauty and comfort.

Carel Fabritius. The Goldfinch.1654. The Mauritshuis.

So, I've seen hundreds of still-lifes in my studies. Possibly thousands. I've seen this little guy to the right in its hometown in the Hague. It's an image beloved by an entire nation. This type of painting also has it's own name: Trompe l'oeil, or trick of the eye. It's not that much bigger than the size you see in on your screen, and was intended to trick people into thinking there were seeing a real bird perched on the wall on which the painting was hung. This painting is absolutely beloved by the people of the Netherlands, such is the peculiar lure of the still-life. Why do you think that is?

There's one final still-life I want to show you, not remarkable so much for its thoughtful portrayal nor its hidden meanings, but rather, the story behind it:

Edouard Manet created Bunch of Asparagus in 1880 for his friend Charles Ephrussi; he sold it to him for 800 francs yet Charles, knowing Manet was rather impoverished, paid him 1,000. Manet, humbled and touched by the gift, sent this little painting:

A single asparagus leaf. As a thank-you to his generous friend :)

Probably the most self-indulgent post I'll ever write, but it's Vday. Love me.

2011-02-14T00:18:00.003-05:00

I love love.

Everyone does, it's magical, so that's NBD.

I love dating!

Not so many concur with that one.

I really do. Getting dressed up, daydreaming about them before the date and after the date if it goes well, giving someone your full attention, seeing how they put their best foot forward (or don't :), etc. It's all great stuff! Sure, there's the whole three-day-agony when he doesn't respond to your text, and of course, breaking up or being rejected absolutely sucks, but such is life. Dating's so worth it, getting to know someone one-on-one. Such a great thing.

Whenever any downtime occurs, I just tell myself he obviously isn't worth the worry and move my focus elsewhere. Being 25 1/2, almost a decade into my dating career, I've done that quite a few times now, just as I have broken a few hearts, brightened a few boys' weekends, and even gotten to change a few lives, and be changed myself, for the better.

In Institute last week our teacher challenged us to think about all of our best and worst decisions, and what made them so. Both my best and worst decisions involve relationships (and charity and pride, respectively). I can say with confidence, though, that there's only been a single date in the almost TEN years I've been dating that I regret going on. That's a really good track record I think.

It sounds cheesy, but I really do feel like I've learned from each boy/guy/man I've dated, even if none of them have become my true love quite yet. I remember when I was a sophomore in college I made a list of every boy I'd ever been on a date with. There's no way I can recreate that list now, five years later, I can't remember them all... but I do have some highlights. :) The following is a grossly, unfairly, stereotyped survey of select guys I've gone out with, because it's V-day and I'd like to remember that it's not because I haven't given things a shot with a variety of fantastic and not-so-fantastic menfolk. We all nickname our crushes: "Library boy," "volleyball boy," "motorcycle man," etc., please don't judge me for having had this list in such a format in the back of my head. Is your list really any different? (Especially you marrieds??) How do you feel about YOUR list? I hope you can take pride in it, it's a pretty important thing to be content with.

A survey of Lindsey's love interests (Future husband, you get to feel proud that you bested all of the following):

BYU football players 1, 2, and 3

I stayed good friends with all these guys,
I don't think they'll mind being the
visual content of today's post :)

HS prom date who moved into my singles ward 5 years later and announced over the pulpit that I made a great date
The Hobbit (he was 5'5"... and VERY confident, so manly!)
BYU Swimmer
BYU Rugby player (the most gentlemanly of all the athletes)
Guy who got married and became the 1st counselor in my singles ward bishopbric... AWKWARD.
Skiier Boy
Guy who introduced me to Jack Johnson (my very favorite boy of all time... sigh. Win some, lose some.)
Harvard Tennis Player
Utah Football player
Guy who studied Computers at the Y and had zero social skills (worst date EVER)
BYU Mascot ( he didn't know I knew!)
Harvard MBA
BYU JD
BYU MACC
Yale JD
Boy who gave me the extra set of keys to his car (schwing!)
Drummer in a jazz band
Future prophet
Hill staffer 1, 2, and 3
Most beautiful guy I've ever seen (congrats to his new wife :)
Boy who liked techno and wanted to wear a Batman suit the first night of his marriage
Guy who let me drive his dad's Corvette
Rich surfer boy from the OC, sweetest guy ever
Orthopedic surgeon
My second cousin (JK... although my best friend tried to set me up with him once, she didn't know we were related :)
Dental students 1, 2, and 3 (GO UNLV!!!!!)
Eldorado HS soccer player (my first date :)
Florida boy (I'll always wonder what happened to him...)

I'm still missing a collegiate lacrosse player. They've always topped my list of boys I wanted to date. Well, them, and THE ONE of course, whoever the heck he may turn out to be. I've still got time!

I need to end this post on a less braggy, more V-day appropriate note. My friends and I were recently talking about our "types," and I was surprised to find that the other girls had no idea what their types were; the men they've dated vary too widely. I was surprised because my type has remained consistent since high school, maybe even junior high, when I first began to love boys.

I'm going to tell you what I told these girls, the same thing I told my stake president in 12th grade when he wanted to set me up, the same thing I thought to myself at age 11 when the class clown asked quiet little me about the necklace I was wearing: I love funny men, the kind that can entertain a roomful of people but especially the girls. The ones that like asking girls questions. He can even be a little high maintenance, I like maintaining someone :). Find me one of those, universe, make sure he loves God and family and learning about the big wide world, and we'll be in business. Thank you in advance, so much.

Happy Valentine's Day, my friends. If you have someone to love, do so with all your heart. Such is the sweetest gift life has to offer.

Lord Frederic Leighton. The Painter's Honeymoon. 1864. MFA Boston.

Elie Wiesel

2011-02-06T22:11:00.001-05:00

"'Man comes closer to God through the questions he asks Him,' he liked to say. Therein lies true dialogue. Man asks and God replies. but we don't understand His replies. We cannot understand them. Because they dwell in the depths of our souls and remain there until we die. The real answers, Eliezer, you will find only within yourself."

"And why do you pray, Moise?" I asked him.

"I pray to the God within me for the strength to ask Him the real questions."

I cheated on you.

2011-02-02T11:46:00.000-05:00

I guest-posted on my friend M.C.'s blog, wrote about art history and baking. Enjoy!

Best picture I could find of M.C. and I:

She's the one in the sunglasses, I am the one rocking bangs, on a wakeboarding trip right before the BYU v. UNLV football game, 2007. Good times :)

What I like about a winter sleet storm

2011-01-17T22:31:00.000-05:00

1. Sitting in bed watching a lot of movies on my laptop
2. Opening a new tab and making this list

This is me, at work, on a bad hair day (thank heavens for bandana!), with Flat Stanley and some sample size Red Velvet Cupcakes:

Please note that silver espresso machine in the back. It probably cost more than your new car.

This is me, going to church, on a good hair day:

The end.

The Wednesday that was a Saturday

2011-01-12T13:50:00.003-05:00

Bakery schedules are funny: I work the late shift this whole month, meaning my job goes from 2:30 pm to about 11:45 pm (cleaning bakeries takes FOREVER!). Thus, my mornings have become my evening relaxing time, and they are filled with breakfasts in bed and Season 2 of Bones on Netflix. Also, today (Wednesday) is my only day off this week besides Sunday, which means it is my new Saturday. Second load of laundry's in the dryer, I found a great new Pilates workout on Hulu, and I slept in til 11:45. I love Saturdays.

Sometimes I worry my blog isn't very funny. Most of my friends have AWESOME funniness in their lives and that comes through in theirs (Erin, I'm mostly talking to you :). Mine seems to be all about seriousness and learning and values. Snore. (I'm blaming it on the soul-sucking Washington venue.)

The following made me laugh, so I'm sharing it with you. If you don't think it's funny, just humor me (haha.... I've never understood that phrase so well as just now). So, one of my favorite blogs ended last year. The four authors all moved and decided to let the blog go. I was not too sad when theapronstage.com passed into the void known as Internet history, but I kept it on my Google Reader list out of sheer nostalgia, and GUESS WHAT? Yesterday it came back in all its blazing glory, though I'm pretty sure it is not run by the same people. I clicked on its link eagerly, only to be reading this:

"Warrior Jared of Warehaven was once Lea's betrothed. Now that Lea's future is under threat she can't become emotionally involved with Jared again. But he has plans of his own, and he intends to use every seductive trick he knows to get Lea to comply...."

And it only costs 90 cents to keep reading. HEY-O!!!!!

[OPEN]

2011-01-07T00:49:00.005-05:00

“You have a right to experiment with your life. You will make mistakes. And they are right, too.” Anaïs Nin

For those that balk at this quote because we should be all about continual self-improvement: I'm usually right there with you. But the fact is, we learn best through our mistakes. That's why we're on earth. My cousin David once gave a succinct real-life illustration of this when he described his years of high school wrestling. He said he learned more about wrestling in one lost match than he did in ten matches that ended in success and glory. That was always, always the way it was.

In Man's Search for Meaning by Viktor Frankl (which I lifted from Dad's bookshelf in Vegas over break), the author, a psychologist and a survivor of the Auschwitz Death Camp, preaches much the same message:

Live as if you were living for the second time and had acted as wrongly the first time as you are about to act now.

Think about that for a little bit. I know I had to. Think about where you were five years ago. If you're like me, you will be able to pick out a bunch of things you just want to hit yourself in the head for- and if you're like me, most of them are things I DIDN'T do... not the things I did. What can you do today that will enable you to look back with pride and whimsy, laughter and satisfaction in five years, and ten, and eighty?

I thought about this a lot over Christmas break. One of my least favorite and most prevalent mistakes in 2010 was in fact being afraid to make mistakes, and being too strict or stubborn with myself or others. As a result, my relationships suffered, I didn't apply to that conference in San Diego that I had a PERFECT research topic for, and worst of all, I didn't have any FUN.

NOT. Anymore.
2011 comes with no real resolutions. Just a motto:

open heart, open mind.

Because the people I love and admire the most accept others at whatever stage they're in, and they also accept new ideas and can form better, more persuasive thoughts about them than those who make snap judgments. I want to be like that. Motto will help get me there. (And by the way, PROPS to all my friends writing about their new year's resolutions this month. Normally this topic is really mundane- "Read books, run, etc." But everyone was really thoughtful and honest, I loved it!)

I took this semester off of school. I needed a personal break, I want to be there for my family more often, and I want to save money so that when I go back for my final year of my Master's studies, it will be everything I want it to be. I've always dreamed of being a scholar, I love the feeling of walking through bright and storied campuses with books in my arms and a multitude of eccentric thoughts and theories whistling around my head. I believe I have what it takes to come up with new research projects, to see things in late 19th-century art that no one has seen before, and to learn how to impart those things to other open, eager minds. (Small sidenote: I also find it delicious to discuss artwork with people who are NOT open to it. Thank you, freshman year BYU-football-player boyfriend for being my first challenge in that arena).

Don't call my decision a mistake, or do, I guess, if you'd like. I'm doing the best I can here and I have high, HIGH hopes for the next few months (as a baker :). Viktor Frankl says that there are three ways man finds meaning in his or her life: 1. by creating something or doing a deed 2. by experiencing something or encountering someone (highest form: family love!) 3. by enfashioning the correct attitude towards unavoidable suffering. I think I've talked about all three of those on this blog, so I can feel confident that I am continuously finding new meaning in my life. But I want to find more. I want to do more, see more, love more. Outside the library, at least for the next little while. At the close of 2010, all I could think to do was try to open my mind and heart to the people, ideas, and opportunities that come my way. And try not to worry about all the possibilities and potentials that might or might not (usually might NOT) come along.

Here goes nothing! Happy New Year! (I can write that today because it's the two year anniversary of my move to Virginia, and almost the 6-month mark since I've moved to this house. My how time flies.)

Because I like to have pictures on my admittedly art-themed blog, here's just a few things I've seen and thought about lately:

(From my dear friend Mariya- how beautiful! Click for the bigger image to read a William Blake poem that fits right along with today's discussion)

"Gol-LEE!" That's Dad-ish for "You're spending too much money or being ridiculous"

2010-12-29T15:42:00.000-05:00

If you were to bug our house and start listening to the melodious sounds of our post-Christmas, week long hang-out session, here are a few of the things you would hear. (You might need a few things translated for you. We here on Alamosa Way are very good at expressing ourselves in veiled phrases.)

"Jeepers!" -Mom when she is overwhelmed by modern superfluity. Used when she is introduced to things like smart phones and the entire Band of Brothers DVD collection... or Lady GaGa.

"QUIT TALKING TO YOUR GIRLFRIEND AND START THINKING ABOUT MONEY!" -Dad gets really into family Monopoly games.

"HMPH!" Marcus says this a lot and just listening to him, you'd probably think he was a caveman. But he says this with an impish grin and it is his way of saying "I disagree with you/You're stupid/you're funny/WHHHYYYY did I land on the space with a hotel on it??/Hi Bob!/I'm righter than you."

"REEHN!" There aren't really enough letters to actually encapsulate the sound Marie makes when she issues her patented flying hug. Sometimes it's accompanied by the clarion call, "PANDA ATTACK!" Giggling ensues.

You'll know Katie's in the house because the beautiful sounds of Wicked on the piano or violin go trailing through the house.

"Look Lindsey, these are my NAME-BRAND jeans." What you won't see is the sight of Spencer wiggling his better side back and forth in front of me.

My sounds? I have two this season: a munching one (brownies and cookies and candy OH MY. Our kitchen is STILL overflowing this year with good things, no matter how may times I sally forth and try to get rid of the whole plate of Oatmeal Cinnamon cookies in one sitting. They just keep multiplying.) My other sound? "QAT! TRIPLE WORD SCORE! LOOK IT UP IN THE DICTIONARY, IT'S TOTALLY THERE! BOOYAH! I WIN I WIN I WIN!"

.... my dad is not the only one who gets into games.

I'd like to thank my sponsors...

2010-12-18T11:43:00.000-05:00

As my school muse Hermione says in a bad American accent, "Booyah!"

3 brilliant theses and 58 pages later, my finals are finished, and I have emerged out of my sweatpants-draped room, gone on a bright, snowy run, and returned to the real world (aka Harris Teeter the grocery store).

Last finals week I showed you this:

My old school "posulating" about the religious overtures of Frederick Edwin Church's Aurora Borealis.

This finals week I present to you my more technologically advanced method of composing big fat essays:

Copious research notes and a laptop. Old school might be better...

I really feel the need to thank those entities that have gotten me through this week. In no particular order, I heartily express my gratitude to:

-NOVA Institute choir (Beautiful concert Tuesday night!)

-http://www.bibme.org/ (Holy shiz.SO unbelievably happy to now avoid hour-long hunts for the original place of publication!)

-Spike Mendelsohn and his lovely The Good Stuff Cookbook (concocting his raspberry sugar cookies and red velvet brownies with white chocolate icing helps ease whatever ails ya).

-Wikipedia.org, particularly the entries on Christine de Pizan and Emperor Menelik II of Ethiopia. Even my professors admit to popping over to Wiki to read a few facts about their subjects translated kindly from academic gargle into English. No shame. Only love.

-Facebook.com- I hate you, always. But I did enjoy browing my friends' pics when I was really stuck. Nothing like a baby in a Bumbo to make you realize everything's gonna be ok. :)

And now, dash away HOME!!!!!!!!!!! Christmas in Vegas!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Theme Song for Finals

2010-12-09T12:26:00.001-05:00

8 days left of finals, and what am I doing this morning? Dancing around my kitchen in the same exact dumb way the lead singer of One Republic does throughout this video (particularly at the 3:12 mark. That's my move!). I'm strangely proud of this video, because I remember during the heyday of "Apologize" thinking that the lead singer of this band TOTALLY lacked in star power (as in, he looked like the kid I was assigned to sit next to in Algebra class who tried to cheat off me, whose life was devoted to Xbox). Look how far he's come! Watch me/us go:

The fro-headed boy going nuts with the snare drum in this video kills me. And is also kind of my muse. In some future life, after my lives where I'm a surgeon, a member of the Medici family, Alicia Keys, a pioneer, and someone who understands chemistry, I'm going to be a crazy drummer in a rock band.

In the meantime, three more papers. As the singer of One Republic (who prominently sports a wedding ring- way to be!) pronounces for some unknowable artistic reason:

WE'RE MARSHIN ON!

Love Note to _. _.

2010-12-02T18:43:00.001-05:00

Can I just say how much I am in love with my city right now? No, not Arlington, that's just where I house my shoes and go running. The District of Columbia. Where I work, study, and play. Home of the National Cathedral, National Archives, the Capitol, and a dozen other prominent and lovable buildings arranged neatly along the skyline. The place I spend almost $5 a day to get to and from, riding on a booming, crowded metro. This normally snooty city has set aside its obnoxious wonky persona for a season and become a real, thriving, metropolis... with PEOPLE in it! Sigh. All for me, the summer-loving, token art girl from the West. How did I come to be in love with you, overcrowded, overcoat-ed, early winter Washington? There's just no explanation for taste!

And yet, there are a thousand and one reasons why I love you, city. Any given day, you are so much better than New York; more J. Crew, less Marc Jacobs. More fog, less wind. More history, same amount of mystery. Less expensive, less crazy, just the right amount of energy. Everywhere I look, you've spawned whimsical, department-store-caliber Christmas decorations. Your homeless musicians, parked on milk crates by the metro entrances, trail a peppy "It Came Upon a Midight Clear" with their saxaphones. One even accompanied my walk home today with a French melody on the accordian- merci! (That doesn't mean I'm any less of a grinch than I used to be. One of my supreme delights each day is having a bakery music station that ROCKS all day long. It only plays Christmas music from 6 to 7 am, when I'm too sleepy/too busy setting up the counter displays to notice. Then it switches to a mix that has included Journey, Taylor Swift, Linkin Park, and Savage Garden. Radom and awesome! Hallelujah!)

Let me tell you about The Washingtonites I've been meeting and serving carbs and coffee. I love them all. They come in wearing dark but chic coats and sporting the ubiquitous scarf. They disseminate business cards, squeal over our gorgeous cupcakes, croissants, etc., announce the end of their diets with gleeful joy, and round it up by buying each other sugar and going back to work/getting on a plane/metro'ing back to Maryland. I am smiling and running back and forth ringing up sales all day long (Finals? 11 days away. TTFN).

This isn't him, but you get the idea.

This week the city introduced me to a wall-eyed homeless man, who keeps wandering into the bakery. He asks to see "the lady with dark hair" and mutters something about "investments." He never takes a sample cupcake, but I like to harness my inner Ana Pascal and make him feel welcome. The first time he came in, he requested pen and paper and proceeded to write a 7 inch long message to said unnamed dark-haired lady, which was absolutely undecipherable (I tried). He hunched over it for a full ten minutes, using a minutre, scrawled script that looked exactly as you expect a crazy homeless man's note to a bakery owner to look. Thoroughly enjoyable.

City, maybe I'm romanticizing you, maybe I'm not. When I'm with you, the hours seem like minutes, and when I metro away from you, the minutes drag into hours. Things are never as serendipitous in the West, or in Virginia, for that matter. There, things make sense, they have their place, they are contained. Life with you, of course, is anything but. I think about you when I go to sleep. I bless your leaf-strewn, rain-washed streets when I set out in the morning.

National Museum of African Art on the Mall. Where I study.

I don't know how long you and I will last, city, because truthfully, I've been thinking about leaving you in the next few months. But just know that you've been my constant companion, and some days my only source of beauty and joy, these two long years. I can only think to attribute this to the fact that I am an architect's daughter- I was raised to see and connect to humanity best through the structures it builds. In that way, then, we were meant for each other.

Sometimes you stifle me, city, often you baffle me, on occasion you enrage me, but then again, many times you throw open your museum doors and introduce me to artists like Alexis Rockman at SAAM (gorgeous!), or sketch out the allure of Ethiopian processional crosses and Rastafarianism. And thus, our affair continues on. What's going to happen to us in the end, city? You're right. It's a question that need not be answered now. It's Christmas time, and you're taking care of me like no place ever has. I am happy on your streets, in your museums, with your people. And I think you are happy to have me, too- bundled up bright, passing through your midst and working hard in your businesses and at one of your schools. So, for the moment, District, I guess I remain, most sincerely,

Yours,

LC the Intrepid

(Pictures taken from the DCist group Flickr pool)

"Desiderata"

2010-11-26T17:15:00.000-05:00

It's a 1927 poem by Max Ehrmann, and quite possibly the most perfect thing you will spend 60 seconds reading this Thanksgiving break. Enjoy:

Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.

As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly, and listen to others — even to the dull and the ignorant — they too have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons; they are vexatious to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter, for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism. Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love, for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment, it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be. And whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

Serious Thankful Day

2010-11-22T22:14:00.001-05:00

Out of all 400 tagged fb pics, I only found 3 ones that could be considered relatively serious. Here is one.

I am thankful for the following austere, sometimes somber blessings today:

21. Religions that have commonalities with mine.
22. Non-homelessness (aka homeliness? :)

23. Quaker Oatmeal Square cereal (It fits in the serious category because it's not a sugary cereal. Just delicious and healthy and grown-upy but still fun because I like biting into each cruchy square with my back teeth).
24. Homeland Security/ICE
25. Having BFFs to talk to during trials
26. Global warming (anything that makes winter shorter and eases my guilt about never recycling has my gratitude)
27. Adoption
28. People who acknowledge their flaws and make me feel better about having them, too
29. Canadians like Kelly and Grandma C.

30. Expecto Patronum Memory #5: Presenting my Senior Thesis to a darkened auditorium filled with my peers, my art history idol, and my parents.

31. The relative health of my family.
32. Our life quality: "We are richer than Pharoahs ever were," my mom once observed. Because we enjoy things like the following, daily

32a. Air conditioning 32b. Air travel 32c. Internet 32d. Education!

33. Travelling by rental car to Aunt Marie's house in North Carolina tomorrow! EXTENDED FAMILY!
34. Life lessons learned from Stranger Than Fiction
35. Boys who are dilligently working to overcome pornography addicitions (I am really grateful for their efforts, their perserverance, their faith, and just their ability and willingness to think hard about the right and strong way through.)

36. Harry Potter 7
37. That I have work tomorrow
38. History to learn from- the exploits of Marie Antionette, Henri Matisse, Minerva Teichert, Enos the prophet, William the Conqueror, etc.
39. Watching my friends grow
40. The following counsel from Richard G. Scott: "Be thankful that sometimes God lets you struggle for a long time before that answer comes. That causes your faith to increase and your character to grow." It took me by surprise when he said that, I don't know why. But I really appreciate the message and will savor it in days and years to come.

NOT the Bayeux Tapestry, not yet anyway.

2010-11-21T20:59:00.000-05:00

100 things I'm thankful for: The first 20.

1. ELECTRIC BLANKIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
2. New cookbooks
3. Powder blue nail polish
4. Getting to wear a handkerchief and an apron at work! (Update: I now manage a bakery in Arlington. Random but awesome!)
5. Getting to sample new products from the head baker! (my current weight: 127 lbs. We'll see if that changes over the next few months. :) I'm limiting myself to one sugar item a day.)
6. My colorful copy of the Book of Mormon
7. Loud, funny roommates

7a. Kathryn Moss 7b. Kelly McBride 7c. Meradyth Moore 7d. Laney Zundel

Click to Enlarge- it's HUGE in real life!

8. Expecto Patronum memory #1: Visiting the J. Paul Getty Museum at age 11 and being inspired to write an essay about fairies afterward seeing this 1894 Alma Tadema painting, Spring. (I had a very active and passionate imagination :).

9. The fact that it was in the upper 60s with bright blue skies yesterday
10. Ferris Bueller's Day Off
11. Truth, wherever it is found
12. Peep-toe shoes
13. Twinkle lights around my bed
14. Democracy- "the worst form of government except for all the others that have been tried" -Winston Churchill
15. Modern plumbing
16. Modern medicine
17. Kind, interesting people with different opinions than mine
18. Having an immune system of STEEL (I hardly ever get sick, knock on wood.)
19. Temples
20. My sister Marie asking me to document the fall in Arlington yesterday. Because of her, I had a very enjoyable jaunt around my neighborhood yesterday with my Canon Elph. Here's a slide show of everything I saw. Ps Wee, you'll get your own "I'm thankful" number later on in the week :)

Expecto Patronum: For Katie

2010-11-14T01:33:00.005-05:00

We were in the middle of an epic Harry Potter marathon this evening when I began to consider all of my happiest memories, the kind that would repel soul-sucking Dementors via their clarity, depth, and warmth if I lived in Harry Potter world and, you know, had a wand and the Expecto Patronum charm at my command.

I later listed some of those most random, happy memories (I filled up two pages- blessed life!). Here is just one such memory for you, the one I will use to keep me smiling when I go to sleep in a few minutes:

Age 9. I look at my beautiful mother, with her long, long straight golden hair (complete with tower of bangs), still-slightly-gap-toothed smile, and rounded blue shirt. She invites me to come sit next to her on the couch and feel the baby kick. My sister. She was getting so big in there and soon I would meet her! Was I ready to be a big sister again? Yes, I think so, I reply solemnly. Kick, kick.

..........................................

She's the short one.

And that is my first memory of Katie. A month or two after this happy episode, she was born. The last of us Eric and Ann offspring, her arrival was basically the touchstone of our young family life, the crowning achievement, so to speak. :) Let me tell you about her for a second. She was one h*** of a beautiful baby. Soon after her birth we moved to a new house that would turn out to be the source of one of our sorest trials but most blessed growth experiences, and I'm sure we couldn't have done it without Katie. The Lacy Lane house (see picture) is where Katie earned the nickname Running Bear because she often got returned to our front door, butt naked, by bemused neighbors who happened to spy her shedding her diapers and gleefully setting out to explore the wideworld of Lacy Lane. Katie was our "angel baby" who, in direct contrast to her nickname, was a holy terror to try and control during sacrament meetings. Oh, the memories of chasing her wicked fast, stubborn little self down the halls of the Charleston chapel...

She's only 16, yo. Cool it.

At age three she was relegated, with the rest of us, to a pink two-story house on Alamosa, where she grew up into the amazing young lady she is today. Bright, hard working, blonde with lovely fair skin, my bebe sister Katie is now a junior in high school, and coming into her own. Sometimes I don't think I know what's going on in her head but I like finding out. Katie texts me when something's up at home, or when she's bored, when she's thinking of me, or every so often she sends me a really awesome, artfully decorated email transcription of the highs and lows of high school. Several mornings a month I wake up to a bubbly text greeting from Katie that I know has also been sent to, and happily received by, our three other siblings, who are all away in the great metropolis of Provo. Thank you, Katie, for keeping the family ties tightly knotted.

When describing my family to new acquaintances, I explain Katie like so: "And that last sister of mine... she just... well, she doesn't even need us, she's this determined little powerhouse! She had her Young Women's medallion by the time she turned 13, can you believe it!? We are glad we have her. She will be the first one of us to earn a million dollars as some CEO somewhere, mark my words. She can do anything."

Wee, Ynny, KayKay

I like her-- no, love her-- because she wakeboards like a fiend, dresses like a diva, stays cheerful like an angel, and yet can deliver a fiery tongue lashing on cue. She swam for one month and raced a better 100 fly than I could ever dream of (No, seriously. Family records SHATTERED). Her homecoming dress this year was black and white, just like Marie's and mine were (and boy do we look GOOD in fancy B/W dresses). Most important of all, Katie stays true to what she believes in. Whether it's creating a coherent animal print bedroom (something I could never rock), or explaining with clarity and conviction her gospel beliefs, she is a such a lady. She has probably stopped reading by now because of embarrassment. No, I don't have any particular reason to be celebrating her tonight-- her birthday isn't til April-- but why should that stop me?

The point of my ramblings is, one of the happiest memories I have is just the memory of feeling her kick. That should tell you how neat she is. She is an important part of my family, an entity which, in Harry Potter 3 and in real life, proves again and again to be the most life saving, magical force in the universe.

HOORAY FOR KATIE!

Goodbye, boys.

2010-11-01T22:04:00.011-04:00

For the first time in a really long time-- possibly EVER-- I am ok with the thought of being single for a long time.

I lead a good life. I have a multitude of blessings seeping in on me every morning, not the least of which is independence. I have people to love and listen to and be understood by, possibly my most important need and want. I am still on track with my Heavenly Father, he's telling me so right about now.

I have a firm, and dissaprooving, understanding just how brutal Satan is, how he chips away or sometimes jackhammers away on whatever ails you, your whole life long (HE IS A JERK.).

More importantly, I also see and feel how sweet and unique the blessing of a close relationship-- friendship, even-- with Jesus Christ is. I understand a bit better how one's honest friendship with the Savior brings a level of calmness, confidence, and charity to one's daily life that absolutely cannot be picked up elsewhere. I really love going to the temple every week since I have recieved my endowment and just enjoying the spirit and the community that is there.

I'm a little worried about whether or not this is an appropriate statement to make on a blog, but for once I'm going to let it be my journal of what I really think and feel and am going through. I talked with my mom this week about our very deepest fears and worries (which we both, oddly enough, came face to face with this week in the form of very bizarre, very deeply affecting dreams :)

I realized that my fear used to be not getting married young. (As you can probably guess, that's caused me a lot of panic and pain the last five years). In my defense, this is not just some foofy desire I had because I was all princess-y and marriage obsessed. I genuinely have felt, for most of my life, that I was MADE for someone. I am not meant to be single, and I will be a dang good wife. I have felt inklings of what it will be like to support and sustain someone through thick and thin in my relationships with family and close friends, and that is so delicious to me. I just want it, and for the last five years, I have wanted it to be now, or since it's obviously not now, starting tomorrow...

... but, as I talked to my mom, I realized that my real desire is to have a family. It doesn't matter so much when that is. I know the caliber of family I plan to raise: the kind that can cross the proverbial 21st-century plains together and arrive with everyone intact and in tune on the other side, with confidence in their voices and hands, a song a prayer and a laugh on their lips, and love in their eyes. I know the type of marriage I hope to share at some future point with a very, very good man. I am beginning to understand the type of esteem I hope to hold him in; I've heard it in the voices of some of my favorite women as they discuss the enduring obedience to God and quiet dedication to family that their husbands display every day (I literally want to stand up cheer for every good man, good husband, and good father that I know, as in college football game-clinching OT TD volume cheers). I'm so proud of all of you that are hanging in there. I'm so here for all of you that are having a rough go of it. Like I said, Satan is a jerk, and boy do we have to stick together, invite the Savior in, and not let Satan get an INCH on us!

I saw the most beautiful thing on Sunday: a dad sat on the end of the back pew at church, beside him in a little wheelchair was his tiny little daughter (I'd say under 3 years old!) who had some special needs. All stake conference long, he grinned at her, rubbed a little stuffed penguin up against her cheek, let her reach up with her tiny hand and turn his face this way and that. He took every chance he got to make her laugh. You could see plain as day that she was one of his most priceless treasures, and that he was her favorite person in the ENTIRE world! Just watching that reminded me how worth the wait, how worth the fight, these things are.

I have no idea where I got the dumb idea to title this Good-bye boys. Consider that a moment of melodrama from a now mid-twenties girl. Hello, men is more like it. They've got to be out there somewhere. Making the right choices, moving forward across the plains, same as I'm trying to do. Guy, I guess I'll meet you somewhere on the road. Hang tough.

Thanks for reading.