ye olde 2010 books

Well, I didn't even make it close to my goal to read 52 books for this past year. But hey, I'm okay with that. I'm still happy that I had the time to read 31 books this past year, especially considering that I got a full-time job. Anyhow, I read some really interesting books and had a lot of fun. I realize that my book list is more for myself than anyone else, but here are the books that I read during 2010:

1) Reading Lolita in Tehran by Azar Nafisi
2) The Private Lives of the Impressionists by Sue Roe
3) The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery
4) The Help by Kathryn Stockett
5) Austenland by Shannon Hale
6) Thornspell by Helen Lowe
7) The Scarlett Pimpernel by Baroness Orczy
8) Themes of Contemporary Art: Visual Art after 1980 by Jean Robertson
9) The $12 Million Stuffed Shark: The Curious Economics of Contemporary Art by Don Thompson
10) The Message by Lance Richardson
11) The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde
12) The Enchanted April by Elizabeth von Arnim
13) Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch von Albom
14) Lemon Tart by Josie S. Kilpack
15) The Genius in the Design: Bernini, Borromini, and the Rivalry That Transformed Rome by Jake Morrissey
16) Pope Joan by Donna Woolfolk Cross
17) Stargirl by Jerry Spinelli
18) The Alchemist by Paolo Coelho
19) The Bronze Bow by Elizabeth George Speare
20) Art History (Portable Book 1: Ancient Art) by Marilyn Stokstad
21) The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins
22) A Rather Lovely Inheritance by C. A. Belmond
23) The Chymical Wedding by Lindsay Clarke
24) The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie by Alan Bradley
25) Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins
26) Unboxing of Henry Brown by Jeffrey Ruggles
27) Three Cups of Tea by Greg Mortenson
28) Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins
29) Priceless: How I Went Undercover to Rescue the World's Stolen Treasures by Robert K. Wittman
30) East of Eden by John Steinbeck
31) More Stories from the Twilight Zone by Carol Serling

The books that are listed as hyperlinks are some of my favorites from the past year; these are the books which inspired me to write a post about them.

As for the upcoming year, I've already accumulated a large stack of books to read (a lot of them I received for Christmas). I'm excited to delve into them. I started A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens yesterday. I have to admit, it hasn't grabbed my attention wholeheartedly. Could it be that the opening line "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times" is so popular because no one seems to get much further in the dense text? I'm curious to see how well I like this book. I have already read that there isn't much Dickensian humor in this novel, which makes me worry that I won't enjoy this book very much.

Perhaps I'll have to break up my Dickens reading with something more humorous and light - my aunt recently sent me a copy of The New York Regional Singles Mormon Singles Halloween Dance by Elna Baker, which looks like it's pretty fun. I'm anxious to start reading it.

What about you? Did you do a lot of good reading during 2010? Any book recommendations for me?

feminist christmas

In some ways, my Christmas was a little feminist-centric. One of my main presents was Brunelleschi's Egg, a brand new Renaissance book written by one of the founding mothers of art history, Mary D. Garrard. I'm really excited to read this book, and I hope to use it for an upcoming course on Renaissance art.

In addition to my present, one really special Christmas present was given to my dad. Right before Christmas, my sisters came across my mom's carbon paper letters (which were bound in a book of carbon paper). When I was younger, my mom wrote all of her letters with carbon paper, so that she could keep a copy of anything she mailed. My sisters wrapped up this book of letters and gave it to my dad. It was really sweet.

It was fun to go through the letters and see what my mom had written. On Christmas morning, soon after receiving Brunelleschi's Egg as a gift, I happened to come across this excerpt from one of my mom's letters to her friend Trudy:

"[M] has already had a darling boy write her love notes and send her presents. They went to each others' baptisms. He was not in our ward but we took him to piano lessons every week and he practiced on our piano until they got one. She is a feminist and has not been excited to be in an all boy Primary class. (Maybe already having attention from one boy will help her be less boy crazy later on.) Always has been a feminist" (dated March 21, 1991; my emphasis).

It was fun to read that quote on Christmas day, and think about how things came full circle with the gift of my feminist art history book. I guess my mother figured out that I was a feminist even before I even knew the meaning of the word. For me, reading that letter was a gift: it was a nice little testament to my mother's perceptive nature. I think she was more perceptive than I sometimes gave her credit. It was nice to feel a connection with her on Christmas day.

whirlwind vacation

We just got back from a whirlwind vacation in Utah. Before we left, I wondered if we would have a lot of downtime during the first week of our trip, since my dad/siblings/friends would be working or in school. We managed to keep ourselves really busy, though - to the point that we didn't get to visit with everyone that we wanted to see. All in all, though, we had a lot of fun. Our trip was really eclectic, and we did a lot of diverse things. Here's a smattering of our adventures and activities (in no particular order):

• Trip to the Museum of Ancient Life (i.e. the "Dinosaur Museum") with L and Sam
• Carpet shopping/ordering for the S family's basement
• Children's Choir concert at the Cathedral of the Madeline (this was one of the best choral concerts that I have attended in a long, long time)
• Dinner with Heather
• Scrubbing the kitchen floor and bathroom (Me)
• Seeing the burned ruins of the Provo Tabernacle
• Visiting the BYU Museum of Art
• Watching "A Christmas Carol" (1951) and "White Christmas" with Grandma
• Lingerie shopping for a bride-to-be (Me and Ixoj)
• Disco skating at a bachelorette party (Me, Ixoj and V). This was really fun, but I was a little disappointed that I wasn't as smooth on skates as I used to be
• Seeing "Tron" in 3-D (J and his guy friends - I had no desire to go along)
• Watching Phin walk down the aisle (beauty and grace!)
• Helping with wedding setup/takedown/celebrations
• Cooking three batches of my grandpa's "Perfect Chili" for 30-40 people
• Watching my dad and C (the younger) do the "Thriller" dance on Christmas morning (they were playing the Wii game "Michael Jackson: The Experience." And even more awesome: my dad was wearing his Christmas robe at the time. We got some pretty priceless video footage.)
• Meeting with gutter men to get bids for the S family's new gutter
• Listening to Andrew play his bagpipes in the S family's living room
• Watching Sam play "Hungry, Hungry Hippos" on Christmas morning for several hours

Here are some pictures:

The burned Provo Tabernacle
(An interesting art history post compares these ruins to an 19th century painting by Friedrich)

Disco skating + Victoria's Secret = a bride to be

At Phin's wedding

Dinosaur!

Digging for dinosaur bones

Interior of the Cathedral of the Madeline

With Zillah and Ixoj after the choir concert

"Hungry, Hungry Hippos" on Christmas morning

"Thriller" awesomeness

mom and amusement rides

Today was the one year mark of my mom's passing. I've thought about her a lot lately.

Over the past year, I've thought a lot about the things that my mom taught me (or tried to teach me - I wasn't her most receptive pupil at times). My mom had strong opinions on topics that ranged from health food to Fabian Socialism to salicylates to immigration to SIDS to spirituality. But over the past few weeks, I've continually thought about one specific experience where my mom taught me something very unusual (especially unusual for her, that is).

My mom wasn't really into theme parks or roller coasters. She didn't really enjoy thrill-seeking rides or understand their appeal. And, as a consequence, my family didn't visit a lot of amusement parks when I was young. About eleven years ago, though, my family went to visit a little fairy tale park called Enchanted Forest. My dad ended up buying tickets for the Big Timber Log Ride, which includes a really steep drop at one point (similar to Splash Mountain at Disneyland).

I've always been a little nervous about going on thrilling amusement rides, mostly because I don't have a lot of experience on them. I could tell that my mom was reluctant to go on the ride as well, but we had to go since Dad had already bought tickets. So, Mom and I hesitantly sat down in our log car together. As we started the steep ascent before the final drop, my mom said, "When we go down, stomp your feet against the bottom of the car and scream as loud as you can. That will make your stomach feel less queasy."

So...that's what we did! We stomped and screamed like madwomen! Ha ha! You have to understand, that this was very uncharacteristic of my mother. She didn't like to draw attention to herself, so screaming at the top of her lungs wasn't something that she did. And to be stomping her feet while screaming at the same time? Ha! It was too funny. You might be able to tell that we are laughing in the picture above. I think we were partly laughing out of relief that the ride was over, but I also thought it was hilarious that my mom acted that way on the ride. I never saw her do anything like that since.

I feel kind of privileged to have that experience with my mom; I don't think any of my siblings got instructed on how one should act on a thrill ride. (Though I suppose I could be wrong - she did try to give us fair and equal instruction on most topics). Thanks for the tip, Mom. I'll be sure to pass that information along to my son, if we end up on an amusement ride together.

I love you, Mom.

sam's christmas playlist

Sam has latched onto three Christmas songs this season: "Jingle Bells" (the Bing Crosby/Andrews Sisters version), "Santa Baby" (the original version with Eartha Kitt), and "'Zat You, Santa Claus?" (with Louis Armstrong).

There are particular things that Sam likes with each song. He likes how Bing and the Andrew Sisters have a few pauses during the last verse of their song (they sing, "Jingle [long pause] all the way..."). He thinks the male singers for "Santa Baby" are hilarious (the ones that sing, "Boom, boom" at the beginning of the song). And he really likes the drum (which sounds like rapping on the door) at the beginning of the Louis Armstrong song.

Sam's memorized the track numbers for each of these songs, and he can select the each one on the stereo without my help. He usually decides to turn on music while I'm cleaning in the kitchen. Since each song calls for a mandatory dance party, I get nice little breaks during dish duty. Here's a clip from one "Jingle Bells" party:

reading goals: quantity vs. quality?

Yikes! I have read only 29 books this year (so far). I knew that my initial goal to read 52 books this year was unrealistic (especially when I started a full-time job), but I hoped that I would at least match last year's accomplishment of 35 books.

Can I read six books in the next few weeks? I hope so. I just wish that I wanted to read shorter books than the ones sitting on my nightstand. I'm antsy to delve into Andrew Graham-Dixon's Caravaggio: A Life Sacred and Profane, but it consists of 500+ pages that are filled with 17th century history. What should I do? Start the longer book now, or barrel through a handful of insignificant and easy reads so that I can reach my silly goal?

I wonder which I would find more rewarding: the accomplishment of reading a few dense/historical/intellectual books, or the accomplishment of reading dozens of smaller, easier reads. To be honest, I don't know which I prefer. I obviously like the intellectual stimulation of the former, but my pride relishes accomplishments in terms of quantity. Hmm. Do I value quantity or quality when making reading goals? I can't say. Perhaps I like a mixture of both?

What about you? Do you need to hurry up and finish some goals for this year? Or have you already given up?

a few more pictures of leavenworth

Besides our frustrating hike, we had a fun time visiting Leavenworth. We tried on silly hats, bought gingerbread cookies, and wandered around the various shops. Here are a couple more pictures from our short trip:

We embraced the faux-Bavarian lifestyle

hike: icicle ridge in leavenworth

A few weeks ago we traveled to Leavenworth, a faux-Bavarian town in central Washington. We had read about some of the hiking trails in the area, and decided to hike Icicle Ridge during one of our mornings there. (We hiked to the peak of the ridgetop that is directly behind me in the photo on the left.) We knew that this would probably be our last hike of the season, so we hoped to make the most of it.

Soon after starting on the trail, though, we realized that we wouldn't be ending our hiking season on an extremely positive note. The hike wasn't too scenic, since many of the trees had lost their leaves. There was even snow at the top of the trail. But the view at the top of the hike was still quite nice.

However, the most frustrating thing about this hike was the trail. It was very narrow, consisted primarily of very steep switchbacks, and often was placed right against the steep slope of the mountain. It was really difficult for us to carry Sam up such a steep trail - J and I joked that we were doing penance for our inconsistent attempts and exercising. However, we also couldn't let Sam walk up the mountain either, for fear that he'd fall off of the narrow trail and careen down the mountainside.

J and I were exhausted after a mile or so, and slowly dragged ourselves up the mountain for another mile. It was pretty miserable at times. Sam got really bored and grumpy, too, which didn't help the situation. But we finally finished the hike after about 3.5 hours (which included time to eat lunch at the top).

At the beginning of the hike, when Sam was cheerful and J had energy

Recuperating at the top

This wasn't the most pleasant hike in the world, and I know that it's largely because we were hiking with a small child. This hike would be a lot more fun if we were only with adults or teenagers. Even though it was good to get some exercise (and do penance, I guess), I don't think we will becoming back to Icicle Ridge anytime soon.

symphony as spectacle

Benaroya Hall, home of the Seattle Symphony

I haven't been a very good blogger this month, at least so far. It seems like I should have more time on my hands, since I have a househusband (at least for a little while longer), but I feel like I've been really busy. Maybe I'm not really busier, but my days have gone by faster since J is with me during the day (and I have someone to chat with me!).

Anyhow, J and I went to the symphony this past week. There were a couple of things distracting me during the performance (including one first violinist who violently rocked and swayed with every musical beat), so I ended up closing my eyes so that I could focus on the music. And then I began to think: why do we even need lights during a symphonic performance (aside from the fact that the musicians need to see the music in order to play)? The symphony setting definitely is catered toward the idea of spectacle: the musicians are on display, the stage is well-lit, and all seats turn towards the stage. That evening a violin soloist even wore a sparkly, shimmery dress, which added to the spectacle for me.

But don't you technically go to a symphony to listen to music? Why do you need to see anything at all? There must be a visual element of the symphony that is appealing - is it to see the conductor frantically waving his arms? (Or to see the backside of the conductor - he hee! I remember overhearing a joke that conductor Keith Lockhart (who recently left the Utah Symphony) attracted fans who primarily liked to watch him from behind!) Or perhaps the spectacle is the various instruments on stage? Perhaps people like to pay attention to the musicians (although this seems a little contradictory in terms of the symphony member's wardrobes - they traditionally wear black, which seems to suggest that they don't want to attract attention). Perhaps people want to see the soloist play and manifest extraordinary technique?

What do you like to watch at the symphony? Do you like watching as much as listening?

gilbert blythe --> jack kelly --> mr. darcy

Last night J and I had a fun time seeing a local production of the musical "Anne of Green Gables." J has never read the L. M. Montgomery books (or seen any of the telefilms), so the whole story was new to him. It was fun for me to see the show, and think about my memories of the books and telefilms.

On the way home from the show, I had to fill J in on how the "Anne of Green Gables" 1985 telefilm was extremely popular show when I was a young girls and teenager - and not just because of the story. I would bet that Jonathan Crombie, the actor who plays Gilbert Blythe (Anne Shirley's rival/friend/romantic interest) was probably the first "movie star crush" for a lot of girls my age.

It's interesting to trace the historical development of movie star crushes during my teenage years. I would guess that my friends and I all had similar trends, largely due to the release dates of different films/telefilms. The early Gilbert Blythe crush soon developed into the Jack Kelly (Christian Bale) crush when "Newsies" came out in 1992. And just about the time of high school, the "Pride and Prejudice" television drama (starring Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy) came out in 1995. Darcy was an easy replacement for our earlier crushes - not only was he rich and broodingly handsome, but he was a little bit older (just as we girls were becoming older and not as interested in schoolboys and newspaper boys like Blythe and Kelly). And plus, by that time we girls were reading Jane Austen in our English classes, so we could swoon over Darcy in print as well.

Can you think of any other actor crushes from the '80s and '90s? What crushes were popular during your teenage years? (On a side note, J doesn't remember any widespread crushes for actresses during his teenage years - he guesses that boys would just note that someone was "hot" and stop at that.)

I would imagine that girls a little bit younger than me had a widespread Heath Leger crush after "A Knight's Tale" came out in 2001, right?

househusband and sam words

I love having J at home. J prefers to be called a "househusband" (the counterpart to a "housewife"), and he's doing a great job in this new role. He also is kept busy in the mornings with freelance work. I usually watch Sam until 1:30 in the afternoon, and then J takes over while I get ready for work. Although I realize this situation won't last long, it's been fun.

J cooks dinners four nights a week, and I think that is my favorite part of having a househusband. Not only do I not have to cook (yay!), but J is a lot more creative at cooking than me. We are eating tons of delicious things that I have never cooked (and in some cases, never considered cooking) since we got married. We've had Indian curry, sloppy joes, homemade pizza, and delicious spicy chicken. I don't know what I'll do, once I have to take over cooking duty again. The few meals that I've rotated for the past few years will not be able to compete...

In other news, Sam's vocabulary is growing each day. Here are my two favorite words:

• "bi-gok-gig-gers" = binoculars
• "bananimous" = unanimous (Although, I have to admit: he doesn't understand what this word means. It was the "Word of the Day" on the Sesame Street episode for Election Day, so he's been saying "bananimous" when asking to watch that specific show on our DVR. We're working on getting him to understand the signification, though!)
  

happy halloween 2010

Happy Halloween! This weekend J and went to a fun murder mystery dinner that was hosted by some friends. The dinner had a Western theme, and J and I both were assigned characters. I was the town doctor and J was the newspaper editor. Fortunately (or unfortunately?) neither of us ended up being the murderer. We did figure out who the murderer was (although we relied on our friends who help us figure out all the clues). Anyhow, it was a really fun night.

Sam chose to be Batman this year. He still doesn't totally understand who is "Batman" (or any superhero for that matter), but he had fun nonetheless. And he already owns Batman pajamas, to this year's costume was extremely easy. Here are some pictures:

Please note my medical bag and J's bear bolo tie.

Can you see Sam's little cape poking out from behind his back?

jane austen's writing style is reattributed?

Jane Austen fans, how do you feel about this new argument that Austen's writing style may be attributed to her editor William Gifford? You can read the reaction of one Jane Austen fan here (which also includes quotations by Kathryn Sutherland, the academic who came forth with this new editor argument).

For those who are interested, the Jane Austen Fiction Manuscripts Digital Edition (the new project lauched by Sutherland which is mentioned in the first link) is now available online. If anyone wants to spend a few years debunking (or supporting) Sutherland, have at it! I'd love to research this project a little more (in order to form my own opinion), but I think the task would require too much time. It took Sutherland three years to compile this database, so it obviously wouldn't be a quick research project. Still, I think it would be fun to read bits of Austen's novels in her own handwriting.

P.S. The watercolor/pencil sketch of Austen was painted by Cassandra Austen (Jane's sister) in c. 1810. It is thought to have been painted/sketched from life. Given the context of this post, Jane doesn't look too happy about the reattribution of her writing style, does she?

the sunday nap and steinbeck

I'm resisting the Sunday nap today. The boys are both asleep right now, but I'm holding out. For me, sleeping on Sundays is both awesome and awful. I love being lazy and taking a snooze, mostly because I never allow myself to do those things on any other day of the week. But if I nap on Sundays I can never, ever fall asleep at a decent hour when the night comes. I toss and turn in bed each Sunday night, ruing the moment that I succumbed to the Sunday laze. Sunday naps are the bane of my existence, mostly because I love them so much.

Let's hope I can fall asleep tonight.

In other news, J and I have started to read a book together in the evenings. When J suggested the idea a few weeks ago, my jaw dropped open. It's not that J doesn't like to read, he just doesn't like fiction very much. J only gets in the mood to read fiction once every few years. The last novel he started was two years ago. He got a good way through A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man before the urge to read fiction left. I wonder if he'll ever finish it.

Anyhow, we are reading Steinbeck's East of Eden together. Hopefully we can finish it before J loses interest in fiction (again). It's fun to talk about the different metaphors and themes (particularly the Cain/Abel parallels) with different characters. It's also fun for me to look at the cover of our copy (see left). This painting (Cain and Abel by Titian, 1542-44) was one of the paintings which escaped damage after a recent fire disaster (another Titian painting which hung on the same ceiling wasn't as lucky).

Steinbeck writes very beautifully, and his passages are often very reflective. Reading with J has also forced me to slow down and enjoy Steinbeck's descriptions and thoughts more, largely because J and I read out loud. Since we're reading together, I can't barrel my way through lengthy descriptions (which often happens when reading fiction. My eye immediately starts to scan for the next plot-moving device. Hmm. I wonder what that says about my personality.).

Last night we read an interesting passage in which Steinbeck discusses the difference between a story and a lie. I can't help but think that Steinbeck was had himself in mind when writing the end of this passage: "I think the difference between a lie and a story is that a story utilizes the trappings and appearance of truth for the interest of the listener as well as of the teller. A story has in it neither gain nor loss. But a lie is a device for profit or escape. I suppose if that definition is strictly held to, then a writer of stories is a liar - if he is financially fortunate." (New York: Penguin Books, p.74).

I love the feeling that Steinbeck is pondering and thinking about himself while he writes. It's as if he is learning and reflecting alongside his readers. I like that we (Steinbeck, me and J) are journeying and discovering things together.

sam the storyteller

Sam loves to have us tell him stories. Sometimes the stories are made up on-the-spot, and other times he requests to hear stories about recent highlights of his life (like our trip to Olympia and Mt. St. Helens in September). This week, though, Sam started to make up his own stories. We have to give a lot of prompts like, "And then what happened?" to keep things rolling, but they are really darling.

One story involved all of the extended members of the B family. Each person would go to the park, fall down, and "bonk" a different part of their body. I can't remember all of the injuries, but I do remember that Bop bonked his back and N bonked his nose. Then a different family member would come up and kiss the bonk better. It was really cute.

Most of the time, though, Sam's stories have been about animals. These stories always abruptly end after a shark and a dolphin are introduced to the narrative. For example, this is the story he told me last night in the car:

"Once 'pon a time, there was a monkey. He name George. He eat...bananas. Then...there was...a gorilla. He eat meat. And then a shark and a dolphin came. The end."

spiders and halloween

Are you seeing a lot of spiderwebs this time of year? I don't mean tacky Halloween decorations - I'm mean actual spiderwebs. There are tons of spiders around here right now, mostly because we're experiencing the tail-end of spider mating season.

It's been interesting to see so many actual spiderwebs while getting ready for Halloween. I know that spiders also have some associations with Halloween, largely because they could be venomous. I also came across this source which noted that spiders were thought to have been "helpers" for witches (since they could inconspicuously crawl around places). But seeing all of the spiderwebs around my neighborhood and workplace has made me wonder about the practical associations with spiderwebs and Halloween. Could it be that spiders became naturally associated with Halloween because of the mating season? (I know climate and mating seasons vary from location to location, but it's an interesting thought.)

If anyone knows anything about spiders, mating, and the historical development of Halloween symbols, speak up! I've thought about this topic every day for several weeks, mostly because I'm constantly seeing spiderwebs (really intricate, fancy webs like this one) whenever I step outside.

half-baked thoughts mostly about the beatles

J and I are settling into a new busy routine, although things are going to change next week. J is quitting his job - his last day is tomorrow. We're excited at the new prospects ahead. He has an interview for a new position this Tuesday. This job prospect was completely unexpected, so we're still wrapping our minds around this potential change in plans. But if that opportunity doesn't pan out, then J has other plans for his career. And I have full confidence that he'll be great at whatever path he chooses.

Anyhow, with my new busy schedule, I haven't been able to sit and think as much as I would like to do. I have had a couple of thoughts that keep passing through my head lately, but I haven't been able to flesh them out. I thought I'd jot down a couple of ideas here, perhaps so I can make better sense of things. Prepare yourselves for another bullet-point post, my friends:

• Despite my best efforts, I can not get out of bed early in the morning. Every single night, I ask J what time he is waking up (as if intending to wake up early with him). He thinks that it's hilarious, because I never get up with him. Okay, well, I rarely get up early. I have to have some extreme motivation to get up before Sam (like someone will miss their flight if I don't drive them to the airport). Other than that, I can't seem to get out of bed. I'd like to get up early, because I know I could accomplish more things in the day. But I guess when it comes down to it, I love sleep more than accomplishment. (Gasp! What a pathetic realization!)
  
• I've thought about the Beatles a lot lately, partially because John Lennon would have turned 70 last Saturday. (Some of you may have noticed my Beatles tribute on my art history blog.) Over the past few days, just for fun, I've been trying to ascribe certain percentages to how much Paul and John individually contributed to the Lennon/McCartney compositions. The other night, I kept J awake, trying to make him come up with percentages with me. For example, we determined that "A Day in the Life" seems to be about 50% Paul and 50% John. We think "Two of Us" is 90% Paul. And "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds" is 90% John. (This is a pretty fun game. If you have percentages to suggest, let me know!)
• This is another John Lennon thought. This may sound strange, but sometimes I acutely miss the presence of John Lennon in the world. Which on one hand is silly: I shouldn't miss John Lennon - he died before I was even born. I guess I miss the potential things that he could have done and the potential music that could have been written. It's strange to listen to Beatles music and feel as if John is still around in one sense (his voice is played all over the world, and it has been playing for decades). Sometimes I feel a musical connection with this person that has long been gone, and I miss the potential connections that I could have had with the music he was unable to write. Does that make sense? Perhaps I'm just sensitive to the issue to loss and unfulfilled potential, because of my mom's death, and that gets translated into my thoughts about music. I don't know.
• I like that Sam scribbled on my lecture notes with yellow crayon. I would never admit this to him (or encourage him to do so again), but it's cute to look at little swirly scribbles while I'm lecturing. It's like a little love note from my buddy.
  

why i will not read 'twilight'

I've thought about writing this post several times, but I've put it off for a couple of reasons. One main reason is that I know that some of my readers really love the "Twilight" series, and I don't want anyone to feel offended by writing this post. I'm not trying to attack or belittle people; I simply want outline all of the reasons why I don't want to read the "Twilight" books. Really, this is more for my own sake, because I need to work out my complex aversion to the series. Then, the next time someone is shocked by the fact that I haven't read a smidgen of Stephanie Meyer's books, I'll be prepared with all of my reasons. Here you go:

• I'm not interested in vampires. Or werewolves. I'm not interested in them in a romantic sense, nor am I interested in thinking about their supernatural strengths. It's just not my thing.
  
• I don't want to fall in love with a male character from a novel. I'm already in love with J and would rather spend my time thinking about him. I want to be "Team J," and not "Team Edward" or "Team Jacob."
  
• I have read plenty of reviews of "Twilight" (my favorite being this one that my aunt wrote) and I can tell that the subject matter would bother me a lot. I know that I would loathe Bella's character. She seems like a completely incompetent female that only finds validation through male affection. I don't know if I could sympathize with her at all.
  
• I have read enough reviews to know that Stephanie Meyer's poor grammar, syntax, and overall writing style would drive me insane. (You can read one such review here). If I'm going to spend time reading, why not read something that is eloquently expressed? That's what I love about good literature: it can express the ineffable. If I come across something that's poorly written, I spend most of my brain-power editing and reworking the text.
  
• And here's my main reason: I don't want to read "Twilight" because it is so popular in Mormon culture. For me, reading "Twilight" would mean that I was giving in or accepting Mormon pop culture - and even worse, would mean that I'm participating in and fostering such culture. Does that make sense? "Twilight" is a symbol for something that I don't understand and that I don't want to be. I have to resist "Twilight" in order to make a broader statement about my cultural principles and standards. The reason why I don't like Mormon pop culture? It is rather nuanced and complex, but the bottom line is this: in my opinion, almost all the art, literature and music that is popular within Mormon culture is mediocre. I wholeheartedly admit it: I'm a snob. I wish that Mormons would show more interest in things that are eloquently written, beautifully expressed, or exquisitely rendered. If I read "Twilight," then I'm helping to encourage the low standard of Mormon pop culture, and I just can't do that. I know that I'm fighting a losing battle (it's me vs. Deseret Book), but I'm still holding my ground.
  

bridges for women

Lately I've been reading the book Three Cups of Tea by Greg Mortenson. The book recounts Mortenson's work to build schools in the poorest communities of Pakistan and Afghanistan. It's a really inspiring read. Many sections of the book are thought-provoking, too. I was especially struck with Mortenson's discussion of the bridge that he helped to build for the small community of Korphe, an isolated village in the Karakoram Himalaya. Mortenson actually built the bridge so that school supplies could be carried into the village, but the bridge had another positive side-effect that was unanticipated: it made the women happy and empowered. The book explains:

"...Mortenson arrived at Korphe on a Friday afternoon. Walking over the new bridge to the village, Mortenson was surprised to see a dozen Korphe women strolling toward him. . .They bowed to him in welcome, before hurrying on to visit their families in neighboring village for Juma, the holy day. 'Now that they could be back in the same afternoon [because of the new bridge], Korphe's women started regular Friday visits to their families,' Mortenson explains. 'The bridge strengthened the village's maternal ties, and made the women feel a whole lot happier and less isolated. Who knew that something as simple as a bridge could empower women?'"¹

This last sentence got me thinking quite a bit, particularly about the metaphorical and physical bridges that have empowered me (and women in general). Having recently started to work again, I feel invigorated because I can cross the metaphorical bridge between my community and home almost each day. I feel like I'm contributing something useful and meaningful to the community. And, like the women of Korphe, I don't feel isolated because of this bridge. (On a side note, my bridge also happens to be a physical one, since I have to cross Lake Washington to get to work. You can see the floating bridge of I-90 in the photo of Sam and J (shown below).) Like the women of Korphe, I feel empowered and happy because I have the opportunity to cross a bridge.

I know there are a lot of metaphorical bridges which have been built for women over the recent centuries. I wouldn't be able to cross my bridge if it wasn't for the bridges that were built beforehand. What bridges hold significance for you? What metaphorical and physical bridges have empowered your life?

1 Greg Mortenson and David Oliver Relin, Three Cups of Tea (New York: Penguin Group, 2006), 147.

baby van goat

Apparently there are some detrimental effects to showing one's kid Baby Einstein videos. Tonight I was showing Sam a picture of this Sunflowers painting (above left, 1888), and explained to Sam that the painting was by the artist Van Gogh.

Sam replied, "Yeah, mom. Van Goat and painting."

He's got the idea generally right, but somehow we need to ditch the goat puppet.

my handwriting: a history-o-graphy*

When I moved to Utah at the age of fifteen, I quickly discovered that I was in a minority group. I was one of the only girls in school who didn't have "cute handwriting." I hadn't thought much about handwriting before that point, although as a girl I remember thinking that my mom had nice, feminine handwriting.

Anyhow, perhaps in an effort to fit in (or because I was simply swept up by the "cute" fad), I started to change my handwriting style. And I don't think I'm the only girl who worked hard to develop a cute handwriting style (or "identity typeface" as J might call it); I have noticed a couple of teenage girls who have changed their writing style around the age of 14 or 15. (Did you?)

I was going through my journal entries this evening, noticing how the entries mark my changes in penmanship and "cuteness." Check out these two entries. The first one is from the "pre-cute" era (I had only been in Utah about four months), and then you can see my first attempts at a "cuter" handwriting in the next entry (which was about two months later):


And the handwriting continued to change for the next few months. For awhile I maintained this really time-consuming writing style, where my "R," "B," and "Y" letters had to be capitalized at all times:


I finally ditched the selective capitalization, but I still kept trying to make things more difficult for myself. I was into swirly "9" numbers for awhile, and I always had to write the "9" backwards (starting to write the "9" from the tail of the number instead of at the loop) to achieve my desired effect:


Luckily, that didn't last either. I guess I started to realize that it took way to much time to execute stylized, choppy letters and backwards-written numbers. I started to go for more swoops and curves (especially with the "y" and "g" letters), but still kept things rather neat. This was taken from my mission journal:


As my mission progressed, though, I began to write more and more sloppily. I spent so much time quickly jotting down addresses and phone numbers, that my whole writing style became more messy (and even more swoopy). I have recovered somewhat, but I still don't write as neatly as I did during my early college and early mission days. Actually, when going through my journals, I realized how some of the most busy and stressful periods of my life are indicated through my sloppy script. I must not have felt like I had time for neatness back then. (Or perhaps I wasn't even thinking about being neat, since my energy and attention were focused on other things.) This sample was taken soon after I started graduate school:


Tonight I realized that I hardly write with a pen anymore. I was writing some lengthy comments in the margin of a textbook, and I realized that the physical act of writing feels a little foreign to me. I use a computer so much; I only write to sign a check or quickly jot something down. With technology replacing the need to physically write, I wonder:


Who else went through a handwriting metamorphosis?

* Get the joke? This post isn't exactly a historiography, but it's a history of my own "graphy" (i.e. handwriting).

joanna

When I moved to Seattle, I was more-than-lucky that a close friend from high school already lived in the area. Joanna and I grew up in the same neighborhood, and she's been one of my dearest friends for years. This photo was taken ten years ago, the day before I started college.

Joanna's remarked several times about how our friendship (and the circle of friends that we formed) was one of the best things that could have happened during her teenage years. And the same goes for me - we all became friends at just the right moment. And now, once again, having Joanna in Seattle has been one of the best things that could have happened to me. Last year was the hardest year of my life, and it was so, so, so wonderful to have a good friend that I could talk to - someone who knew my mom, who knows my family, and who knows all about me. Although I've made some great friends up here, Joanna and I have a history and understanding that just can't be replicated - we know the same people and have had so many experiences together.

And now, Joanna's moving back to Utah. The whole move is happening rather quickly, and I'm still adjusting to the idea that she will be gone. I'm so sad to see her go, but I also selfishly feel like the timing is good for me. Joanna was here for me during my really hard year - and sometimes I think she didn't even realize how much she helped me. When I first moved here and was dealing with a new baby (not to mention postpartum depression), my mom's diagnosis, etc., going to visit Joanna gave me the impetus to get showered and dressed in the morning. Just the fact that she was nearby helped to keep me sane. And now that I feel like I'm in a better place, I (grudgingly) guess that I can let her go.

Here are some of my favorite pictures of me and Joanna:

When I came home from my mission, Joanna was my "companion" for an hour or two until I was officially released. We went and watched a ward basketball game together -pretty adventurous for a returned missionary, eh?

We went out for a movie and dinner last Friday; it was our last GNO before Joanna leaves. It's so crazy to compare these photos to the ones we took in high school and college. We look so old! And we don't have such a carefree look about us anymore. Sigh. I guess that's what happens when you have kids: the responsibility and stress really becomes apparent, eh?

I know this isn't "goodbye forever," but I'll miss you, my friend. Keep the vibe alive.

a few recent realizations

• I don't really like romantic sub-plots in novels. I don't mind when characters fall in love, I guess, but sometimes I get annoyed when a book tries to interweave romance into an already-good story. I've just finished The Hunger Games, and I started to get annoyed when Peeta and Katniss began to deal with a lot of romantic silliness. I felt like the plot was great without all of that mushy stuff (but maybe I'll change my mind when I read the other two books in the series).
• I don't know that much about recent film. Every couple of months I am reminded that I am completely ignorant on this subject. If someone wants to talk about movies created before say, Funny Girl (1968), I'm all there. I can talk a lot about Frank Capra, Cary Grant, Jimmy Stewart, Hitchcock, Audrey/Katherine Hepburn, and various old musicals. But I'm a deadbeat when it comes to conversations about recent movies. And to tell the truth, I can't tell if I'm totally bothered by my ignorance. I know that J and I could easily switch off our documentaries/foreign films/silver screen classics and watch something more recent or popular, but I'm not quite motivated to change.

farewell, summer

School starts in little over a week. It's been interesting to reflect over what I've done this past summer. In June I embarked on a quest to find "the most awesome textbooks in the world" for my ancient and Renaissance art classes. I spent several weeks reading snippets from a bigillion books, and my coffee table constantly morphed in appearance, depending on what titles I was perusing or rejecting. This picture was taken several weeks ago, at the height of my ridiculous endeavor.

Although I was glad to become familiar with so many textbooks, but I wish I had just buckled down and decided on textbooks earlier in the summer. I could have gotten a lot more prep work completed if I had committed to a text in June. I realized that one could spend their whole life examining new textbooks (if they wanted), and I've got to be a better decision-maker next time. Even if a great book has some minor faults, it's better to go with that text than to spend weeks trying to find something that doesn't exist.

Ironically, now that class is starting next week, I suddenly have lost the desire to prep. In truth, I've gotten a lot of work done and I'm sure that I will be fine when school starts. But at the point when I should be pushing towards the finish line (which really is the starting line for a new school quarter), I just want to sit around and read about Henry Box Brown. And watch "America's Got Talent" (while being fully aware that its an utterly ridiculous show). And surf the net, trying to track down some Brazilian friends from São Paulo. Maybe I should embrace this laziness, at least for a day or two. After all, I won't have another true vacation for some time...

labor day 2010: olympia

The last leg of our weekend excursion involved a quick visit to Olympia, the state capital. J and I wanted to see the Capitol Building, and we knew that Sam would like to visit the Children's Museum there. And to be honest, those two places seemed like were the main attractions of the small city. It was too cold to visit any parks, so our trip was fairly short (which was fine, since we were on our way home).

Here are some pictures from the museum:

Sam with Current Obsession #1: Dinosaurs.
(On a side note, I can't believe how much I have learned about dinosaurs (especially dinosaur identification) since Sam began this dinosaur phase. Did you know that the Brachiosaurus has nasal openings on top of its head, high above its eyes? I've also learned that "saur" or "saurus" does not have to appear at the end of the dinosaur title, but "saur" can appear in the middle of the word, as is the case with ParaSAURolophus.

Sam with Obsession #2: Sea Animals.
(Especially sharks that like to munch on the legs of unsuspecting moms.)

And here we are: the Washington State Capitol. There were really interesting column capitals around the drum of the dome, with a large flower was placed in the center of each capital (see below). I wonder if they could have more symbolism or significance beyond the idea of beauty, but this government website seems to attribute all the other flowers in the building to signify simply "beauty". Harrumph. I wish there was a more interesting response. It would be cool if the flowers were specific to Washington or the Northwest, but they seem a little generic to me.

And, that was our fun little trip. I think we'll visit Mt. Rainier and Mt. St. Helens next year, but I don't know if we'll make another trip to Olympia. We'll see. Sam loved the museum and has wanted to talk about it every day since we came home, so who knows? Maybe we'll come here again, too.

labor day 2010: mt. st. helens

This has been a weird week. I think Labor Day threw me for a loop; I haven't felt very productive since we got back. In an effort to try and produce at least something tangible (well, "e-tangible" I guess, since this is a blog post), I'm going to finish detailing our mini-vacation.

And I have to add a historical point here, because when we visited Mt. St. Helens I couldn't help but wondering who was "St. Helens." I've heard of St. Helen, but not a "Helens." So...I looked it up. The peak was named in 1792 after Alleyne Fitzherbert, who was British Ambassador to Spain at the time and held the title "Baron St. Helens." (The explorer who named Mt. St. Helens was Captain George Vancouver. Although he chose fellow countryman Baron St. Helens as the namesake for this volcano, Vancouver chose to honor fellow British naval officers for other nearby mountains: Hood, Rainier, and Baker.)


On the way toward the Mt. St. Helens peak, we stopped at the Forest Learning Center, which is one of the visitor centers for the Mt. St. Helens park. This is a really great center, especially for kids. Sam was entertained by the exhibits and the "hands on" learning room for children. As you can see, they also have a mini helicopter for kids, which Sam loved.

There was a short nature trail near the center, which promised a "vista" to the valley below. The trail obviously was made several years ago, before the reforested areas grew back. When we reached the end of the path, this was our vista: trees. I guess we can't be too upset, though. We didn't have a marvelous view, but it's good to know that the forest is recovering from the volcanic blast. Nonetheless, I wouldn't really recommend this short walk to future visitors. There's many more interesting things to see and experience.

As we drove closer to the peak, it was really interesting to drive through the reforested areas because all of the trees were the same species, and all of the trees were exactly the same age. I never realized it before, but it's normal to observe lots of variety on mountain landscapes, with trees of different varieties and ages. It was weird to not see that usual variation on the mountainside. When we were driving through this area, it felt like we were in some virtual world with CGI effects - it was like we saw the same tree over and over and over...


Near the crater, we visited Johnston Ridge Observatory (which is the best place to go to observe the geological changes which have occurred since the eruption in 1980). A lot of the land around the volcano peak has been preserved since the eruption. Scientists don't want the land reforested or manipulated, because they want to observe the natural ecological/geological processes. For that reason, there is still a lot of the volcanic eruption. This image shows a ridge which is right next to the volcanic peak. If you click on the image, you'll see that the whole mountain is covered with trees that have been pushed over in the same direction (i.e. away from the volcanic blast). It was really strange to see many slopes covered with dead tree trunks that were all lying in the same direction.

The only disappointment of the trip? We didn't get a good glimpse of the crater itself, thanks to our ever-present Washingtonian clouds. Ah well. We want to come back and do some hikes in the area anyway, and I'm sure we'll get another chance to see the top of the mountain.

If you want to see some really cool photos of Mt. St. Helens before and after the 1980 eruption, go here. It's crazy to compare the two photographs at the beginning of the slideshow - the mountain looked so different beforehand.