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And another week begins. Hardy har har.

This past week I have had trouble getting into the right mood for drawing. I tried several times but we never able to get it to click. Conciquently I got up early early to do something this morning. As it's homework, I really had no choice. I used the inspiration of desperation and got SOMETHING out of it. But I hated it. Oh well.

I'm excited, because the plan for FHE tonight is to play capture the flag or sardines, and I've been wanting to do something active and fun for a while now. After FHE Chloe and I are going to go the Music Outlet which is a fun thing too. Yay for free activities.

My dumb FAFSA is still "processing". It was competed before school started, but then I had to do "varification" and it's been plunking along slowly ever since. I'm a bit paranoid about money right now, hense why my phone isn't on. But at the same time I know tuition and housing, etc. are already paid for and I have food and a full tank of gas. No worries.

So I've added to my weekly routine: Music Outlet on Mondays, Writing Workshop on Thursdays, and Staduim Singing on Sundays.

Crivens!

Having no classes on Friday is like having two Saturdays in a row. I get mixed up and think that Saturday should be Sunday. :)

I NEED a laptop! Rrrrgh! It's driving my crazy!

Last night I went to the Writing Workshop. It's kinda a club where people who like to write get together and discuss and critique, etc. I liked it, and I didn't like it. I liked it more though, so I think I'll keep going. The only thing that bothered me was the way some of the people there view writing. Some lack the passion and study and mystical execution of it. It's a "just for fun", "jump on the band wagon and write another Harry Potter or Twilight," sort of attitude. But then others are quite more honestly involved, thank goodness. But overall, it was very fun!

Today I've been sorta of in a have-there half-not state. I found a book in the BYUI Bookstore the other day, that I was able to locate in the BYUI Library. I've been reading it all day. And while it's not going to go on my top 10 list, it may fit in my top 75. Not even so much because of the story, but of the depth in it. Or the research attatched to it. The author is an expert on Celtic studies. The book is full of Gaelic phrases and actual ancient folklore. With real places of siginificance, all described most tangibly. It takes place in Ireland, a real Ireland. I love that. It's call "The Hunter's Moon", and it's by O.R. Melling. I started reading at like 10 a.m., and am almost done now. I've literally been reading almost the entire day away. Like a nap for the mind.

I want to go and do something, somewhere with someone. Like GO. Not just "go to a showing in town" or whatnot. I want to GO. As in GO hiking, in MO that meant atleast a two hour hike over atleast two hours. I want to get away! And not in that rushed, anxious like situation where you are nervous because you know you must return soon. The type of GOING, like girl's camp used to be. I don't want a long leash, I want NO leash.

And I want my animals. I miss my animals. I saw a girl playing with a puppy today. (pout)

Ok. Slap me thrice and call me a nilly willy. Snap out if it.

Ok. Good now. I'm starving. I want chocolate.

"Slippery Hands"

This is something I wrote a long time ago. It's kinda silly, but I still appreciate it. I was going through the files on my disks and I found it, so I thought I'd just post it. For fun.

_______________

You wonder when it’s gonna be you. You wonder when you’re gonna be “Slippery Hands” next. Unfortunately for the best of us, we find out too late. It’s only when you find yourself picking up the broken pieces of your life when your realize it’s you turn. Who knows. You tripped. But now it’s lying on the ground, that splinter in your eye.
It was so delicate. So precious. Some people wait forever, staring at it all, so that all the edges are worn off and they’re left with nothing but numbness. Those are that people that can’t quite seem to fit things back together. That bittersweet edge is your only chance. So you cut yourself a few times. Nine times out of ten won’t kill you. And even when you got it all pressed tight in your fist, held together by sheer will power, you see those little chips that are lost forever. And as you stand there, or sit, or kneel, you know that if you dropped it now, it wouldn’t hurt any less. You can’t figure out what makes you hold so tight, for so long.
Every piece ‘o glass is special. Every single piece.
I figure that there’s only one thing to do when you find yourself waiting. Something that no matter how hard you try you can’t not do. And that’s to think. Even if you’re thinking about not thinking, you’re thinking. And while you sit there thinking, mourning, and waiting, you start remembering. No matter how small and broken your little glass seems, you can’t deny it hadn’t been similar before. Sand. Tiny specks. Blown by the wind. Carved into mountains. Ground into skin. That’s how it all started. In pieces. It has to start that way. Do you remember how long it took to gather those grains of sand? How hot they were burned? How hard they had been to change? Ok. So maybe this time it won’t be so hard, eh? There’s your hope. Your only choice is to get on your feet and move. Find that flame. You hug your life so tight to your chest you’re paranoid. You’re scared.
Every person finds a kiln for their life. Usually it involves trusting in others. Going outside your comfort-zone. And yes, eventually handing over your precious life to the only artist with hands strong enough and sure enough to never lose a sliver. You look into his eyes and you beg him. You plead with him. You give him all you’ve got.
Now here comes something you did not expect. As you watch him spin your life through the flames of fire, he’s forming something totally new. Your precious little glass, you worked so hard on…. is gone.
Some people turn away at this point. They leave. They walk around empty handed until finally the begin gather sand again. Many never even bother. But you? No. You’ve worked too hard and trusted too much to let your life go so easily. You pray, and you wait. That’s clearly what life’s all about.
When he finally turns around, he’s holding not your little, ill-formed jar, but something totally new. Shining in his hands, spun round with a silver lining, lay two flat disks. And through them, clearly visible against his palm is a hole. A scar. A price.
He slides the spectacles onto your face. He smiles and says… Well, that’s for you alone, now isn’t it.

0. Welcome to the Fall.

So, of recent, the most random things that stick out in my mind are thus:



I made cake cookies for FHE tonight. I rolled them in hot chocolate mix and sugar. They were all gone by the end of the night.

I went grocery shopping and Chloe gave me Stephen's Chocolate Mint Trouffle hot chocolate mix, and wassle.

I got approval on my drawing again.

I bought a ticket for buckets and tap shoes, and lost it.

I met a guy who jazzed with me on the piano, and that was awesome! Plays (makes up stuff) the same way I do!


I lent my english workbook to someone and they haven't given it back yet!!! I have homework for tomorrow!!! I e-mailed everyone in the class, but no one's responded yet! ROAR!!!

I've been trying to do more writing.

I'm looking for fun activities to do, and want to go climb R mountain sometimes soon. I want to go hiking and camping and canoing and stuff out-doors mostly.

I did my laundry this morning and believe that there is nothing quite like the exhilerating sensation of taking a hot shower, and then putting on clothes that are still fluffy and warm and practically steaming! Mmmmmmmmmmmmm!!! I'm making myself sigh and go lax just thinking about it!

My earphones are all but completely ruined. I'm sure there's someway to fix them, though I don't know what it may be. The cords are coming out of the jack and yet not enought to physically see. It's getting harder and harder to jiggle it around and hear something. I don't want to buy more though, 'cuz they're expensive.

I make scrambled eggs for dinner!

Saturday it rained. "Rained". Sunday it turned chilly. Today it stayed chilly.

I am so excited for:
1.General Conference
2.Halloween
3.Thanksgiving
4.Christmas

I love yogurt, fruit juice, cream-cheese and chives wheat thins, Stephen's hot chocolate, good books, art, piano, writing, beautiful weather and scenery, sleeping in a soft bed, hot (literal) clothes, etc. etc.

I need my eyes checked!!!!!!!!!!!

And a Cooking Fire in Our Blood

Hello, comrades!

Right now I'm watching a PBS, new, masterpiece theatre (movie, not play), Sense and Sensibility, by Jane Austen. I really like it so far! I would like to see the other Jane Austen ones they made (since they just remade them all) and PBS does movies really well! The company putting it on is doing a pledge drive that is the most compelling, indearing, that I've ever seen. This adorable, elderly man is talking, live, and holding up a gorgeous mug, a full copy of all Jane Austens books, and a sweet smile

Friday night we (Jo, Tom, Margo, Am, Nathan, Warren (Margo's brother), and I went camping. We set up tents, and beds, and a fire. Jo insisted on having a fat air matress that barely fit in out tent, with sleepping bags and a thick pile of blankets. That didn't bother me at all, because I knew it was going to get awfully cold in the mountains. We made peach cobbler, with home grown and canned peaches, and whipped cream, and it was sooooooooooooooo delicious. I love camping, and I love food cooked out door over the fire! There is truth the the analysis that all food tastes better with a little wood ash in it! Dutch oven cooked! And with a thick, rich, fresh out door air seasoning!

Saturday morning we went hiking up the moutain side. We hiked past several fantastic waterfalls, and through, and about, and around them. A couple of us climbed the rock face to get better pictures and a better view, and for the very thrill of the freedom of it. And while I do admit that we were not wholey safe, but we were raised in the wild, free and relatively fearless. I believe that it is in our blood! No one was hurt. There was fresh air, beautiful fall colors and berries, rainbows in the water spray, and an overall peacefull and splended feeling amongst and with us. I will reflect upon this weekend for a time to come.

Then, in the evening, when returned to Salt Lake, my sister and I went shopping, and then we went and ate at the restraunt called Archibald's, at Gardener Village. A place I love to visit and occasionally fantasized of being a part of. Or somethine similar. In the country. In the Midwest. With my family.

Well, 'tis more, but I have been distracted.

Until again.

Adieu.
[Middle English, from Old French a dieu, (I commend you) to God : a, to (from Latin ad; see ad-) + Dieu, God (from Latin deus; see dyeu- in Indo-European roots).]

Maribelle Mesla and her Twenty Fat Camels

This week is coming to a close. As I had no work and no classes today, I came down to SLC to go camping with my siblings and to do some much needed shopping too.

This week has had it's up's and down's in dramatic proportions. I've been homesick quite a bit, but have had many marvelous moments strolling the school gardens and in my drawing class. I now know for sure that I DO have the talent and skill to become a great artist, if I have the guts and perserverance as well. This last week the teacher took a picture and scanned it, down scaling it. We had to then go and redraw the image in it's origional size. With out using rulers or straight edges. When we came to class we pinned our pieces on the wall, and the teacher took down all the most promising ones. One was mine. She then took them to a light table and held them over the origional, to identify the most accurate ones. Mine was the most accurate. I was thrilled, chilled, and happy. I only pray now that the other students in the class will not begin to judge and compare me now, for I know we all have talent, with different skills and weeknesses. But atleast I know that I'm not behind. I have just as good a chance at success as the best of them!

There is an artist that I've come to appriciate, that I want a piece of his to hang in my house. His name is Charles Courtney Curran. He paints (or painted. I don't know if he's still alive) BEAUTIFUL pieces of girls in white dresses, barefoot, with the wind in their hair. All staring off into the distance. The paintings must be from the early 1900's, because of the hair and dress fashions. But the faces and colors, and the expressions in their eyes make me remember the dreamy, creative, and crisply clear morning feelings of being a child... or atleast that pure shock of personality and intelegence. Curiosity and pensiveness.

In my future house I want a BIG window in my living room, facing the West. And a sunroom/ breakfast room/glass room by the kitchen, facing the East. So that I can bask in the sunrise in the morning, while I drink milk and eat fruit, and sink into a comfortable chair with a book, or a piano, or family, before a glowing fireplace, in the sunset.

The Eleventh Hour

Hey, everybody...

This school year begins, eh?
I moved into my apt. on Saturday evening. I live in a downstairs/basement apt with four other girls. While it's small and the ceiling is low, and while it has neither apt. computers or TV, it is homey. Or like a home. Not my home. But A home.

They moved the bookstore on campus so that it is now bigger and better and a little more like the one at BYU (though still not nearly as big). Today I was strolling through the isles, because one of my classes got out early, and I spied a book that has got to be my favorite children's book! I'm not exagerating! I loved, LOVED this book as a child and would check it out from the library often. It's called "The Eleventh Hour". And so of course I sat down in one of those comfy arm chairs they have about the store and read and looked. It is brimming with very intricatly detailed and colorful illustrations that, unlike many children's books, are very skillfully and masterfully done. And the great thing about it is that there are hidden clues and messages and tricks throughout the whole thing... mysteries that aren't super easy to solve, that take actually work and deduction and thought. Things even now are just as difficult as when I first read it. Maybe more. The whole thing is creative, vibrant, beautiful and well done. Even the writing is wonderful; the whole thing is written in a poetic rhyme that is seemless and fun. And the vocabulary of it isn't "child understanding" geered, necessarily. It's a book that children can understand but isn't pulled down to "their level". I would recommend this book to anyone and everyone, and I AM going to have a copy or two of it in my house. I think the artist/author has done another book too, but right now the title illudes me.

Everything for me is... going. Just going, like time. I tend to get very lonely or bored, but I try and knock myself out of it. Sunday I went and played games at Sarah's house, and that was nice. Very fun. And last night my roommates and I went and listened to a bunch of people preform and sing songs that they'd written on the guitar. Very informal, but fun.

Classes have started, and while I'm not taking many, none of them are going to be easy. At all! A lot of hard work. Especially the drawing class. Our first assignment: take a scaled down drawing and replicate it, exactly, back to it's origional size. With out using straight edges to help, or rulers. We can only use a ruler once, for the first line, and that's to help with the scale. Yeah.... "GULP!"

Oh, and I found out that one of my classes is only a block long, so I don't start it until mid-October. This means that I have no classes on Friday until then. YIPEE! (but I bet i'm going to end up working those hours. Oh well. Work's not bad.)

Well, I'm famished... I got up early to take a shower, so I didn't get breakfast, and it's almost time for lunch. My tummy calleth.

Audios, Amigos