2nd MTC Letter

So everything is going well. My companions are still amazing and we're learning so so much. For Thanksgiving yesterday Elder Holland came and spoke to us and it was absolutely incredible. He taught us so much about the Atonement and our purpose as missionaries in relation to it. It was the neatest thing. You could feel it when he walked in the room, and the spirit blessed me with a powerful experience of empathy, to feel what Elder Holland felt as he walked in and heard us singing about the Savior. It was an amazing feeling. We are more powerful than we realize. He also had all of his grandchildren there and they all came up and sang that one primary song about the song of a bird and the rain on my face, the touch of a velvet rose, the smell of a lilac tree, etc. I think it's call "I know Heavenly Father Loves Me" but I'm not positive. Regardless, it's one of my favorite primary songs and I was so touched to hear his sweet grandchildren sing it.
Anyway, the Thanksgiving dinner was good. It wasn't as tasty as it is at home, and they only had the tiniest dollop of whipped cream for our slices of pumpkin pie, but it was good. I miss the family, but I'm doing well.
I did finally recieve mail today after we got back from the temple. The letters you and mommy wrote to me were the answers to my prayers. I needed them today, and I was so grateful. I cried as I read them on our way to lunch and asked my companions if we could stop off at the bathroom so I could blow my nose before entering the cafeteria. They were perfect. Obrigada.
Oh, and Mommy, you would be so proud. Last Sunday I went with my companions to choir practice, so that we could sing in the MTC choir for the Tuesday devotional. We sang "Come Thou Fount" and it was beautiful. Funny story about it though. So Sunday we got there a little early and had spots close to the front, and then in walks my friend Art from EFY this summer. He was filling in as our conductor that day. It was so awesome to see him. I had almost not gone since Sister Wegener didn't really want to go and I didn't have my heart set on it, but luckily Sis. Dangerfield talked her into it, and so I was able to see Art. It's funny, Both of my companions went to BYU and are from Utah, so every day they bump into someone they know from school or from home etc. Plus sis. Dangerfield worked in the MTC cafeteria for 3 years so all of her friends work here and she's always saying hi to them. So it was wonderful to bump into a friend.
Oh, so the devotional Tuesday was from Per G. Malm from one of the quorums of the 70 and he was from Sweden. And it just so happens that his wife is from the same town as Oscar. I just know if I had had a chance to chat with her we'd be best friends forever. But regardless it was an amazing talk that he gave. He told several incredible stories that applied so perfectly to us.
Anyway, time is almost gone, so I'll wrap it up. Hopefully this email works, but I'll be sending a real letter today as well, just in case. And spread the word to everyone you see that I would love love love any and all letters. Sister Wegener gets soooo much mail every day, and it's hard not to be jealous. I have heard wonderful things about Dear Elder as well. From what I understand it's a website and you can type in the letter and the print it off and deliver it here same day.
Anyway, I love you all. I miss everybody, but I'm doing wonderfully.
I'll talk to you soon,
Paige.

First MTC Letter

Hello from the MTC!
Alo!
So today is our P day and I have just a few minutes to write home, but I am so excited about it. Tudo Bem! (Everything's Well!). It has been an exhausting few days, but oh so rewarding. The spirit is so strong and I'm learning so much. Although, Mommy, I did not get a picture in front of the MTC sign since they're doing construction in front of the campus and it is no longer there. So I'll have to make sure to take a picture in front of something else to distinguish that I'm at the MTC.
So I have two companions and they are Sister Wegener and Sister Dangerfield and they are incredible. We were best friends on the first day, and it just keeps getting better. They're both from Utah, and just the sweetest girls ever. Our district is a blast as well. All of our elders are just so much fun. I did see Elder Casey the other day in the cafeteria as well as one of my boys from my very first week as an EFY counselor three years ago. It was really neat to see him. Though since both of my companions went to BYU they see people they knew all the time. So it was fun to see at least two different people that I knew before I came here.
So portuguese is going well. It's hard and kind of overwhelming, but our teachers are excellent and we're starting to learn quickly. We were challenged yesterday after learning how to pray in portuguese to say every prayer in the language, and even though it's hard it's helping already. Though sometimes when I try to pronounce certain words my tongue just feels thick. but the more I practice the easier it feels. El evangelho (the gospel) is especially hard though. That lh combination is tricky. But it's all going good, and we're slowly replacing words like thank you and hello with their portuguese counterparts in every day speech.
Eu quero prestar meu testemuho com voce. Amo este evangelho e meu Pai Celestial. Meu Salvador vive, e A igreja de Deus esta aqui na terra. Eu nome de Jesus Cristo, Amen.
We learned how to bear our testimony the other day and had to go and bear it to at least two people outside of our district. It was scary, but the elders we found were spanish speaking so they couldn't tell how much we butchered it.
But in addition to the language, we've been learning so much about our purpose as missionaries and how to talk to people. It's an incredible work we're doing, and I'm just starting to realize the power that I've been set apart with as I learn to rely on the Lord. Even though the language is hard and the schedule is rigorous, and it just feels like there aren't enough hours in the day for all that we have to learn, I know that we are the Lord's servants and it's his work we're doing and he qualifies his servants. I love this gospel and so far I'm just loving the mission. I love learning. I know at some point I'll probably have a melt down, but I'm so so so happy so far.
I love you, and I hope everything at home is just dandy. I am so grateful for all of your support and love. It makes it easier for me to know that my family is behind me one hundred percent.
Love,
Paige

p.s. Packages and letters are like gold here. And we're all greedy for them.

p.p.s. We've heard a lot about sisters and elders getting reassigned because of visa issues. But I'm actually ahead of a lot of missionaries in my district having already filled out the online visa application. But I've heard that might not even mean anything. All we really know for sure about it is that it's unpredictable. But we're all hopeful.

p.s.s. The chocolate milk is indeed delicious, and the food has been good as well. But with all of the excersize I've been getting I don't think there are any major concerns about my gaining weight. So hopefully I won't come home with that mission 15.

Create

I simply love this.

Ophelia

Here is what I like to refer to as baby cat, sweet face, little thing, kit-kat...
my baby cakes.


I think we were meant to be.

Just for giggles

Katsup

So it's been quite a while since I've posted what I've been up to as far as painting goes, and I figured it was time. I know I blogged a few years ago when I was in Painting II about working with fabric and painting the folds and shapes, etc. because I remember the post about being a still painter, and that comment came from the fabric paintings in that class. Anyways, so at that point it was purely observational. They were merely studies, despite whatever lame meaning I attached at the time. Which is fine.
This little yellow painting happens to be my favorite from that series I did a year ago for Painting II. The other three were too embarassing to put up.



But despite them being just studies, they got me to Painting III, where they evolved into more. And so at the end of last semester when our last project was just to have a series of at least three of whatever the heck we wanted to paint, I turned to fabric. I started by folding and twisting and shaping scraps of old canvas into little sculptures that I then painted from. And throughout this process I starting thinking about the fabric and the little sculptures as location, as place. And as I came up with these locations they all seemed to pertain to my childhood, which I thought was fun.
So this first one is actually my favorite. There are like three different paintings underneath this one. I struggled a lot with this location, but once the concept and the image came together it came fast. So this is the couch. When I was growing up we had this green, tweedy, comfortable couch. And one of our favorite things to do was to take the cushions off and make human sandwiches. We would just squish eachother between the cushions while we watched cartoons. It was great fun. So this painting is my vaugue memory of that dimly lit living room with stacked couch cushions and the happy pressure of being on the bottom. yep.



So this one for me was remeniscent of the big rocks my siblings and I would play on at the park. They were just these random, huge rocks at the top of the hill with this huge crevasse we crawled in and out of. There was something magical about a huge rock. Even when we went hiking as a family, if there were ever any big rocks near the trail we had to climb to the top. I don't know, maybe it was just me, but I loved rocks. So all of that, is basically what this painting is.
Though I will say, I'm not actually wild about this painting. It could use a lot of work. Plus it photographed wierd.



Well, this last one here is more of an idea than an actual place. When I was a kid I always loved the idea of having my own secret spot. Like the Secret Garden or something. So every few weeks I pick a bush to squat behind and called it mine. I never really found that secret spot, but regardless I held onto the idea of having that little nook tucked away somewhere that was only mine. That place to sit and be by myself and plan adventures like all the cool kids had in the movies. So this painting is that idea. Almost like a secret little fabric cave with the warm cozy light inside. And like all the others it needs work, but if I'm going to be realistic it's never going to get done.



So that was the acculmination of my Painting III class and what I hope is the start of my continuing self-discovery, etc. Though my doodles of fabric in my sketchbook are starting to morph into more cloudlike shapes. I'm not sure what that means yet. Anyway, but one thing I'm really excited about pertaining to my mission, is forgetting myself. By taking a year and a half to forget myself entirely in the work, and to be unselfish and just serve, I'll better understand myself, so that when I get home from my mission I'll know better who I am as an artist.
Anyway, I've concluded that I need a better camera so when it comes time to photograph my work it doesn't look so wierd.

Kevin Bacon

So a few weeks ago I caught a good part of "Footloose" on TV, and I was struck with how truly awkward Kevin Bacon is. This is something that I love about him, and a part of what makes "Footloose" such an 80's classic, but he is uncomfortable to watch nonetheless.

Exhibit A: What is not to love about his enraged, passionate dancing/gymnastics. Nothing could be better.



And Exhibit B: Pay close attention at about 3:45 when he wins the chicken race. It's just too good.

Brazilia

So it has been a few months since posting, which means there is lots to blog about, the most important/exciting of which is my mission call. My mom called while I was at EFY to let me know the call had arrived, so she, my dad and my sister drove up to Buena Vista, VA to open it with me. So while skype-ing my other sister I found out that I am called to the Brazil Porto Alegre North Mission, speaking Portuguese!!! I'm so excited. I report to the Brazil MTC on November 24th, the day before Thanksgiving.
So, as a part of preparing for my mission, I googled Porto Alegre and a few different cities in my mission.


This is the Porto Alegre Temple, and one of the first pictures to pop up in my google search. Heck yes.


Still Porto Alegre


This is in Santa Cruz do Sul.


Passo Fundo


Caxias do Sul


And this is from Sao Leopoldo.


And just in case you don't know where in the huge nation of Brazil Porto Alegre is, here's a map. The little red arrow is pointing to the city.

I don't think I could have picked a prettier mission. I met a girl this summer at EFY who served in Portugal, and she said that the missionaries from Brazil serving with her, were disappointed they were sent out of the country because they wanted to serve in Porto Alegre. So basically my mission is the best ever. I am so excited to go to Brazil and immerse myself in the culture and learn to love the people and share with them the good news of the restoration of the gospel of Jesus Christ. It's going to be a hard, exhausting, trying, but fantastic, enriching, and edifying 18 months.

Smells like the future

I have an announcement.
I am going to serve a mission. I AM GOING TO SERVE A MISSION!!!!
I'm just so excited. This particular blog post has been a long time coming actually. I decided to serve back in late March, early April, but haven't publicly announced it in this fashion. I've pretty much told everybody, but I guess it's time the internet knew.
So here's the story. Two years ago, during my second week of EFY I had an experience where I felt impressed that I could, and should serve a mission. That I should be a missionary. So I made plans in my head to finish another year of school, turn 21 the next summer, do another year of EFY, and then go on a mission. Well, at some point in that year of I started praying about it again and felt impressed that I should wait. I assumed that meant wait until I finished my undergrad, so I pushed it to the back of my mind and said I'd pray about it again when the time came.
So here I am 21.5 years old, and my parents and younger sister had just come home from their spring break of college visits. So as they're telling me about the schools, and we discuss my sister's immanent future, we turn to a discussion of mine. Now, at this point I still have at least another year of school, probably a year and a half, before graduating, and my parents bring up the mission. My father explains in his calm and wise way that they think it'd be a good time for me to go. I had just changed majors that semester, and as excited as I was with the change, I think they sensed I was a little burned out. Well, the renewed talk of a mission honestly took me completely by surprise. As I mentioned, it had receded to the furthest part of my mind and I hadn't thought about it in ages. But I decided to pray about it. So for a week, in every prayer I said I asked to Lord to help me to know if it was the right time. Needless to say the decision felt heavy on my mind. I thought about it constantly. I compiled pro-con lists in my head and on paper, and when I read my scriptures everything seemed to apply to the subject at hand. But there came a night where I was studying my scriptures and decided to study about missions and missionary work, and turned to the Topical Guide. It sent me to the Doctrine and Covenants, chapter 31, where the Lord calls Thomas B. Marsh to serve. And as I read, verse 3 seemed to jump out and hit me square in the forehead. It reads:

"Lift up your heart and rejoice, for the hour of your mission is come; and your tongue shall be loosed , and you shall declare glad tidings of great joy unto this generation."

So there was my answer. It was time to serve.
So I met with my Bishop and he set me up with the online papers and when school was out I completed them to the best of my ability, went to the doctor and the dentist, and now I'm about to interview with my Bishop again before he sends the papers to the stake, where I'll interview with my Stake President so he can send my information to Salt Lake.
Suddenly the mission is starting to feel infinitely more real. Even as I filled out the paperwork, it felt more like a vague good idea. And now I'm coming closer and closer to being faced with this reality as I try to emotionally prepare myself for a call at some point in the next month. It's overwhelming and scary, and I feel so inadequate and immature. Sister missionaries are so mature, I can't believe I'm old enough for this. I was just 18 yesterday.
But then I remember the first impression I'd had two years ago at EFY. That I could serve a mission. I can do it. With the Lord's help I can do anything. Especially that which he's commanded me to do. I can do anything, even talk to strangers.
So the residual twinges of fear mingle with excitement as I anticipate the future, and try and prepare myself for something you can never really be prepared for.


And here is the picture the general authority deciding where I will go will see. Talk about intimidating to think about.

I miss my boys. That is all.

Baby Nico

So I feel like it's high time I posted about my new little nephew. Despite mine and Max's disbelief in my last post, Nicola did indeed come that Friday, May 21. He was born at 12:12pm weighing 7 pounds 3 ounces of pure perfection. Here's him getting a bath at the hospital.



In order to avoid bring a toddler to the hospital during quiet hours, Max and I were able to go and visit later that afternoon. Unfortunately, Max fell asleep in the car on the way there, so it wasn't until the next day that he really met his brother. Well, he did wake up while we were at the hospital but remained completely indifferent until the next day.



Honestly I just can't get enough of this kid. I could seriously hold him forever and never get tired of it. Thankfully, Jackie and her little family was staying with us before they moved to Oklahoma so I was able to get plenty of Nic time in. I just love squishy little babies, and he's the sweetest, cutest, squishiest there is.





And here are my sweet boys. They moved to Oklahoma yesterday and the house is way too quiet. I just miss them so much.



But Heavenly Father knew I was going to miss them and blessed me with some tender mercies my last little bit with them. The night before they moved, Jackie handed Nic to me after he ate and I promised I'd give him back when he was hungry again. But this sweet boy just slept in my arms for hours and hours, which is something since he seems to eat constantly. Then that same night as I was getting into bed, Max, who's been sleeping in my room, woke up with a bad dream or something and came and slept in my bed with me. Then the next day I was able to prompt him to say "I miss you" and "I love you" in his sweet little voice. In addition I was able to hold Nico again for ages while his eyes were open and looking at me. I just love them.
My biggest fear is that they'll forget me as they go traveling around the world with their parents. I am blessed though for the time I've had with them. Especially to have been so close to Max these past few years. We're pretty much BFF. I can't wait to see them when we come visit in August.

Adventures in babysitting

So this morning my very pregnant sister is at the hospital most likely having a baby. He's been close for a few weeks now and there have been days where we thought for sure he was coming. Despite my mother being at the hospital with her, her midwife saying to come to the hospital instead of her office, her contractions becoming more painful, the fact that she's already 5 cm dilated, or that her husband's plane ticket is already purchased for him to come meet their son, I guess I'm just a little hesitant to say he's coming for sure. I understand little Nicola's coming today, I just don't think it's sunk in yet.

So anyway, while Mom and Nanna are at the hospital, I get to watch Max. He's my favorite boy in the whole world and I'm happy to have some more time with him before he moves to Oklahoma. Well, on this particular morning, I left him watching Dora in his undies to go take a shower. After I was dressed I went down to check on him, and there he was in his undies in front of the tv. Only, while I was indisposed, it seems he took himself to the potty. How could I tell you ask? Well, it was evident he had some trouble putting the underpants back on after going to the bathroom. The poor child had stretched one of the leg holes over his little hips, while his legs found their way through whatever available holes in the underwear's design. But there he was watching Dora the Explorer like nothing was wrong. I just love my little man.

Though I think Max is just as skeptical about the arrival of Nic as I am. I asked him if he was getting a brother today, and he most determinably said no. His mom will just have to prove us wrong. In the meantime Nick Jr and some Apple Jacks are turning out to be the perfect recipe for a good morning.

"One has to believe in what one is doing, one has to commit oneself inwardly, in order to do painting. Once obsessed, one ultimately carries it to the point of believing that one might change human beings through painting. But if one lacks this passionate commitment, there is nothing left to do. Then it is best to leave it alone. For basically painting is total idiocy."

And

"Painging is at once 'intrinsically capable of giving form to our best, most human, most humane qualities' and 'total idiocy'."

Thank you Gerhard Richter for your words of wisdom.

Knock-Knock jokes

Knock-Knock jokes usually aren't funny at all, but I came across this one on a friend's facebook page the other day and thought it was terrific. Here it goes,



-Knock-Knock
-Who's there?
-You know,
-You know who?
-Yes! AVADA KEDAVRA!!!

Bahaha!! I just thought that was terrific. You know who, Voldemort, get it? Anyway, this has nothing to do with anything that's going on in my life right, now, I just felt like I should blog again, but didn't want to go into the epic blog post that is coming soon. And when I say soon, I mean probably in a week or more when classes are over. But maybe I'll get bored one day and displace my desire to not work on a project into a desire to blog or spend irreplaceable hours on the internet.
It's been know to happen. So until then, Buenos Noches.

Paige-a-rooni

So for the past few weeks I've been all-consumed with myself. Literally. In my painting class we had an assignment to paint a self-portrait, and not necessarily to just paint a literal representation of our face, just a self-portrait however we interpreted it. I did choose to paint my face, but part of that was a desire to academically paint a portrait with oils, which I had never done before. But regardless, this painting was the hardest thing I've ever done. We had weeks to work on it, and I sketched, and planned and thought, and filled up pages and pages in my sketchbook trying to settle on a composition, on an idea. I did want to simply paint my face, but beyond that I didn't want this to be an academic painting. I wanted to paint me. Which ultimately happens no matter what you paint. It's impossible to no put yourself into your work, but regardless, I wanted there to be more depth and meaning than the paintings I had done previously for classes. So I over-thought it to the extreme. So finally, a week before critique I settled on a composition. It took blocking in a few different ideas onto the canvas to get there, but I made it. So that week, literally all I did was paint. Every night I was up until the wee hours of the morning working on this stupid painting. I skipped classes the day before and the day of the critique in order to complete it to a point where I felt comfortable showing it. So anyway, I just wanted to show all 8 readers of my blog what I did. Because I am proud. It still needs work, but I'm happy with how it turned out.







So if you'll notice, the last photograph of the painting I have eyebrows, while the other ones don't. So as I was driving the painting to school a week ago for the critique after feverishly painting for a week straight, I realized I had forgotten to paint eyebrows and proceeded to burst into hysterical, crazy-person laughter. But at this point I said forget it and kept driving. So then that day we didn't get to my painting, we ran out of time, but again, even with time to add eyebrows I decided to leave it as is. But then this afternoon after I took pictures of the painting, on a whim pulled out a brush and added the eyebrows. I still don't know how I feel about them. Anyway, so this is my work, and hopefully I'll stay on top of things and at the end of the semester I'll keep all 8 of you updated on what else I do.
The end.

P.S. I realize my hair isn't actually that red. I really did try to match my hair color, but this has happened in every single self-portrait I have ever done. I think subconsciously I just think my hair is redder than it is. And I think I'm ok with this.

New Friends

So my sister Jackie has this knitting book full of these funny, quirky, creepy dolls you can knit, and I'm obsessed. It's the perfect, fun, quick little project for me. They're small enough that I can finish them fairly quickly, and interesting enough that I don't get bored. So meet my new friends.
This is Sean.



And this is Perry.


Aren't his dimples adorable.
So as you can see, I have a thing for gingers.

Politics

So in general I have always disliked politics. I never had the patience or the interest to sit down and educate myself in the world of politics, and have used that as an excuse to just keep my mouth shut. But as this Health Care Bill is passed and I watch the explosion of opinions about it, I find another reason to not like politics, the contention. I've never handled contention well. I would get in fights with my sisters when we were younger and after a few minutes of shouting, I would always break down into tears because I just can't handle the contention. So when I see the alarmism and hateful things said about our president over this bill, I just want to shut down and retreat into my room until it blows over. I do not think Obama is a perfect man, but he is my President and deserves my respect. I think he is doing his best to help this country change for the better, and though I don't agree 100% with absolutely everything he does, I still support him, because he is my president. He is trying. Our government is here to protect and help us, so why are we fighting against that? It just upsets me to see the hate and discord that is filling the air and seeping into people's homes. I don't like it one bit.
And that's all I have to say about that.

So I feel a little disappointed, but mostly sad. I was on facebook this evening and discovered that one of my girls from EFY is pregnant. Unmarried, underage, and pregnant. This is a girl who is just so smart and beautiful. I remember watching her glow as she bore her testimony, not only in testimony meetings, but during lessons as she answered questions and constantly applied what we were teaching to her life. It just breaks my heart to see such an incredible girl make such a poor decision. But what hurts the most is the title of the album she posted with ultrasound pictures. She called it "babyyyy :)" and then I saw her status "Some of you already know, however some of you don't...buuuuuuuuut I'm having a baby!! :) I had my first ultrasound today, pics very soon :) I know this wasn't exactly the right order, but Jake and I are making things right and we're getting married this May :) We're so excited for our new family!! ♥". What hurts me is the smily faces and the hearts. How excited she is for this. I don't think she understands the gravity of the situation. I am glad that she is making the best of it, but it just makes me sad. I'm just so grateful for the atonement. I know that this sweet, vibrant girl can be clean again as she deals with the consequences of her actions. I hope that she and her fiance work together to be sealed to their little baby someday. I just hope for the best for her. She deserves the best.
And that is all. I guess I just need to vent a little tonight.

Google overload

In my painting class we're in the process of starting our self portraits, which means I haven't even stretched the canvas while I ponder what exactly I want to put on my imaginary canvas, but as a part of that we were given a four page list of artists to look up and research. I know that she doesn't expect us to look up each and every one of the bagillion artists, but I wish I had the time to do so, they're just so fascinating. So as I google artist after artist tonight I'm experiencing a little bit of search overload. I'm excited to go to the library tomorrow and actually get my hands on some books to whittle down my thought process. Anyway, so seeing as how I'm a little google-fried I thought I'd look up something non-painting related. Who knew hunky Christian Bale could sing so sweetly as a child.

Tired

So I had a painting due yesterday for my class, so of course the week before I was busting my fanny to finish it on time so most everything else took a back-burner for a while. For a little explanation, the project was just to paint a still-life on a 3'x3' canvas, but for each square foot it had to be treated differently. For example, in one square the marks reiterated the picture plane, and another had a different color palate, or explored depth of field through edges or saturation, etc. So each square was different, but made up the image as a whole. It was an interesting and challenging project. It was like doing 9 different paintings all at once. Anyway, so despite being so weary of still-lifes I really enjoyed this painting in some ways. This is the first painting I've done since I switched majors and I felt so much more motivated to work on it than any other similarly tedious painting. It felt good to paint. I would come home from the studio with my legs aching and my feet sore, barely able to focus my eyes after standing and staring so long, but it was a better tired than anything else. It was a happy tired. I was physically worn down but emotionally, mentally, it felt good to have been painting.
I will post a picture of the painting as soon as I get around to taking a picture of it, but in the meantime I will be happy for a little break this week, but hopefully tomorrow we'll get more details on our next assignment. I hear it's a self-portrait which really, really excites me. I've wanted to paint one for a while but haven't had the time to do anything outside of school. I'm excited enough to be hoping I can get started during spring break, which is unheard of for me to start an assignment early. So we'll see how that pans out.

Giggles

So it's confession time. One of my guilty pleasures is American Idol, and I watched tonight as they picked the top 24. It was exciting and ridiculously dramatic. But mostly it reminded my sister and I of a magical little moment we witness a few years ago with season 7. Every year after the top 24 are picked they have all of the contestants dance individually for about a second of camera time. Well season 7 brought us the mad dance stylings of Jason Castro. Watch carefully around 35 seconds. And I apologize for the lack of sound, it's not my fault.



I doubt you find it as hilarious as my sister and I, but I thought I'd share it anyway.

Catching up

So there is a good chance this will evolve into a long post. Just a friendly warning. There are a few items on my mind this evening. Firstly, my cat is chewing on my shoe, not unlike what a puppy does. I'm a little confused, but grateful that it's an old, ugly shoe and not a cute one. Secondly, I am knitting socks. I have decided it's a silly fear I have, and that there is no reason why I cannot successfully knit a pair of socks. So at Joann's the other day I purchased some sock weight yarn and here I go.
Thirdly, I wanted to post some pictures of myself purely for documentation. Saturday was a good friend's birthday party with the theme "A Star Studded Event". We were all expected to dress as a famous movie star, singer, fictional character, whatever, as long as you were dressed up. So I decided to go as my celebrity look-alike, Molly Ringwald, but more specifically, Molly Ringwald in Pretty in Pink. At least I modeled my outfit from her wardrobe in the movie. So I felt like it was a pretty successful endeavor. What do you think?



But sadly enough, not many people knew who I was, let alone who she was. I was kind of disappointed. I found it amusing though to see some of my friends who took the party as an excuse to imitate a well known, current celebrity, therefore, to look hot. While I took it as an excuse to look like a weirdo from the 80's. Such is me. Which I think is a perfect example of the binding thread that is the gospel. A good number of my friends have almost nothing in common with me, example, this party. Yet we're good friends because we have that common ground of the gospel in our lives and it's enough for now. Luckily I do have some terrific friends who I do have things in common with, making conversation infinitely more fulfilling. Not that I don't love my other friends dearly, I just find that we run out of things to say to each other sometimes. But that is life, and I'm happy with it.
So to change the topic entirely, I just wanted to babble for a minute about the abstract expressionists again. They've just been on my mind. Between learning about them academically in class, and reading about them even just a tiny bit in Kurt Vonnegut's Bluebeard, I find them frequenting my thoughts and conversations. So this is completely random, but for some reason I find them attractive. More specifically Jackson Pollock and Willem DeKooning. Well mostly it's just because I stumbled across different photos of them in my text and just think they look good. I don't know if it's the masculine t-shirt and jeans or if it's just knowing their work, but man do they look fine.




I honestly think it's just me, but what can you do. Which ironically enough they're both pictured with their wives. Pollock with Lee Krasner, and DeKooning with Elaine. Both of which were amazing artists in and of themselves, but poorly recognized in the shadows of their husbands. It's a sad story, but not uncommon.
Anyway, it's time for sleep to put an end to my nonsensical babblings.

P.S.

On the same note as my last post I remember this fantastic quote from a truly exceptional book, Everything Is Illuminated, that I would recommend to anyone. This quote is from a book within the book, an encyclopedia of sorts written by the whole town. This was their definition of Art.

"Art is that thing having to do only with itself-- the product of a successful attempt to make a work of art. Unfortunately there are no examples of art, nor good reasons to think that it will ever exist. (Everything that has been made has been made with a purpose, everything with an end that exists outside that thing, i.e., I want to sell this, or I want this to make me famous and loved, or I want this to make me whole, or worse, I want this to make others whole.) And yet we continue to write, paint, sculpt, and compose. Is this foolish of us?"
- Jonathan Safran Foer

Is this foolish of us? Yes, I think so, but so necessary at the same time. It is this expression, this alternate form of communication that feeds the soul and reminds us of the divinity of creation. Everyone creates for different reasons, but ultimately we do it because it feels good, because it helps us to understand ourselves and the world better. At least that's why I do it, foolish or not.

Rothko rediscovered

So as it is early in the semester I am still diligent in my school work. Namely I have been reading the required text for my Late 20th Century Art class. We are on the brink of the Abstract Expressionist movement and I have found it fascinating so far to read about that shift from the popular social commentary paintings of the 30's with clear subject, to the abandonment of subject beyond form, color, shape, etc. for a focus on the experience of painting. The defining factor for a piece of art became the artist's experience in painting it. I just love that.
And as I have been reading I have become more and more impressed with Mark Rothko. I've known him for ages, well, known of him, I don't know him personally it's a little hard since he's dead. Anyway, in the text it discusses some of Rothko's work during the shift into non-representation, and I was impressed. He and other artists worked from ancient myths and drew inspiration from non-western cultures, whatever. What interested me, was that instead of painting scenes or stories or just borrowing primitive aesthetics, Rothko focused on the emotions in the stories. Even before he used mere blocks of color to express that emotion, he was exploring that aspect of humanity. He's quoted as saying "I'm interested only in expressing basic human emotions, tragedy, ecstasy, doom, and so on." I could not find a picture of the painting in my text of this stage in his work on the internet, but I put up a few examples of his more well known work.







This last one is actually a photograph that I took in the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art. At the time I took the photograph because I knew Rothko and his paintings were famous, I liked the painting too. But now that I've learned even just a little more about him and his work, I think I appreciate it so much more.
And so before I go, there are just a few little quotes I noticed in the text that I particularly enjoyed.

"The big moment came when it was decided to paint ... just to paint. The gesture on the canvas was a gesture of liberation, from Value- political, aesthetic, moral." -Harold Rosenberg

"the act of painting is a deep human necessity, not the production of a hand-made commodity." - Robert Motherwell

Survival

So I have officially made it through my first week of the semester. Needless to say it's going to be a tough one. My Painting III class is going to be beyond intense. It's the kind of class where you forget you have other classes because it requires that much of your attention. It's going to be good though, I took it with this particular teacher on purpose despite my knowledge that she'd kick my butt. And kick my butt she shall. I know that Miriam, my professor, will work us hard enough and expect enough out of us to push past painting for a grade or making a painting, into painting for the sake of painting. I have no doubt that if anyone can teach me how to be an artist and how to find what I want to say using this medium as a voice, she can. It's weird, but kind of nice to trust my professor so much. She drives me bonkers, but I know that she knows her stuff and can teach me what I want to learn. I'll let you know at the end of the semester if it was worth the pain.
I'll gripe later about the mountains of reading and homework from other classes later.

So here's a physical illustration of my feelings right now.


Inside of my head this is exactly how I feel. A little overwhelmed and tired with the full anticipation of the worst to come.


And this is the brave face I put on. I am overwhelmed and feel inadequate, but I will make it through, I will survive.

Twenty Ten

So this is my first official post of the new year. How exciting. If only I actually had something to say. I just felt like I hadn't posted anything in ages, so here are just a few random tidbits.
I am currently obsessed with Oren Lavie. I posted his incredible stop motion animated music video a few months ago, but more recently bought his CD and am now obsessed. He's not that much to look at but his voice is unbelievably attractive. I just love the soft, earthy quality to his music.



So moving on, I have also been recently introduced to the most delightful TV show, Pushing Daisies. I had heard wonderful things, but couldn't fully understand until I was able to partake in this whimsical, colorful, quirky pleasure of a show. The fact that the main star Lee Pace is unbelievably adorable helps as well.



The glasses are entirely unrelated to the show, I just thought he looked precious in them.



And one more thing before I go, my winter break is very quickly slipping away from me. I took a quick, spontaneous trip up to Buena Vista, VA to help out a friend (for purely selfish reasons seeing as how it gave me an excuse to go up and play with all of my friends in BV), and suddenly all of my time is gone. I have a a teensy bit less than a week until I'm back at school and become a hermit. This semester I have class Monday through Thursday until 8 in the evening. So basically I don't anticipate seeing anybody since I'll probably be doing homework on the weekends. This is what I get for picking the hardest professor for Painting III. Suddenly the fact that I'll be learning so incredibly much from her doesn't seem as important. It's alright, I'll make it through. I don't think hermitage with kill me.