Friday, November 4, 2011

to do

to give more than i ask for. to help someone in the way they ask rather than the way i think they need help. to breath. to receive in the way that it was meant rather than the way that it manifested.

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Oblique connections

So I've seen a lot of art lately that seems to be about making these oblique connections with information. Maybe it's because there's so much information everywhere that the beauty made from arranging it in unique and clever ways is similar to the beauty of seeing an art piece made out of trash or throw away objects. I can't help but be reminded of the alien's art in Slaughter House Five. It's been a while since I've read it but the way I remember it is artists in the 4th dimension arrange random moments so that when perceived at once the disparate parts become beautiful and connected.

Usually I have dreams that I can flatten into nice little narratives, but the one last night was too strange to explain. It was a different world with different rules. But at one point I was trying to remember these lines from the W.H. Auden Poem September 1, 1939:

I don't think I've read that poem since 11th grade Honors English class. The only parts I could recite or half remember in my dream, and I was trying so desperately to tell someone, where: "The lights must never go out/the music must always play/Children afraid of the night/ who have never been happy or good/not universal love/but to be loved alone."

Sunday, October 2, 2011

Blood n Guts

So I get to go to these really great CATE lectures and last week saw Blood and Guts in High School by Laura Parnes, as well as some webeisodes she's working on called County Down.

The video piece is considered a "re-imaging" of a book by the same name written by Kathy Acker in the late 70's. Parnes called it a visual period piece that was talking about now. I haven't read the book, but from the discussion I was struck by fact that the significant difference between the Janey in the book and the Janie in the movie is that Janey is truly rebelling, while Janie is complicit with authority. Janie is wearing rebellious garb and has rebellious thoughts and phrases but ultimately is passive. This is the difference between the attitude in the 70's and now. This is reinforced by clips from historical events from the late 70's like the Jonestown Massacre, Moral Majority, Three Mile Island, etc.

Janie is seen wearing a variety of punk outfits, but the defiant clothes and hairstyles serve to highlight the unexpected vulnerability, confusion, and loss in her conversations. The defiance she shows to authority is fleeting and misdirected, and is always mixed with strange attempts to be understood by them. Every tableau has Janie mainly interacting/conversing with one other person who then takes on symbolic significance; a psychotic reverend, her father, an indifferent nurse, a policeman, a teacher criticizing her writing, a peer/coworker criticizing her mannerisms. With every male authority figure there is explicit or implicit sexual tension which highlights the power dynamic. This is especially interesting in the last tableau, where Janie tries half-heartedly talking to the police officer about her rights and in response he laughs. The scene  shows Janie and the police officer in her cell, fully clothed, in a series of frozen and increasingly intimate and vulnerable positions. Janie eventually wakes up and sees that the police officer has been shot and she runs away.

I might be romanticizing the piece by taking from it issues I'm interested in, but to me the poignancy of the piece is in the portrait that it paints of the American "young people." The self-consciousness that Janie has and the confused mixture of defiance and desire to be accepted she shows towards authority figures, the appearance of rebellion which contrast with the passivity and compliance with authority, these are all things that make Janie a prototypical Everygirl (Everyman) from now.

Saturday, August 13, 2011


truth: I can't even begin to process the fact that this is my last weekend in provo as a resident ever.
truth: I'm gonna miss Brock the way I miss diet coke when I'm home for a visit.
truth: it's really time to go.

Friday, August 5, 2011


I have about a week before I leave Provo forever. I'm going to put everything I own in my beat up toyota corolla and drive from UT to OH one more time. I'm going to be leaving a lot behind, and I don't just mean my old clothes and endless collection of collage purpose magazines.

In some ways I feel like I never came back from Germany, not really. I missed Provo so incredibly bad in ways that surprised me when I was in Bremen. I had one foot back there always. But when I came back, and I decided to stay instead of getting my return flight back most of what I missed I never regained. I never had the summer night bikerides, the impromptu dance parties, the gargantuan mona trips, the saver's hunting trips, the comfortable feeling of being able to walk up to any number or porches and just hang out. Something had changed, and it seems most likely that something was me.

That was more than a year ago. A summer of premed classes at UVU that now just seem like an endless blur of sweaty bike rides with a borrowed backpack, apathetic teachers yawning at huge classrooms of males wearing polos and me in a sweaty dress, and then biking back to study in my beloved but cranky Hugh B. Brown with no AC. It was a hard summer, and I felt full of apathy, which is something that surprised me. So then I decided to apply for MFA programs in the fall. And here I am, about to enroll.

If there had been jobs for me here, or an opportunity for more education that would have been beneficial I would have stayed. Despite the detachment, despite being in provo but not being in the provo that I had missed so horribly, I probably would have stayed. I feel tired deep down, tired of starting over, of making decisions, of not knowing what will happen, of being alone. But in my heart I know it was not a matter or wanting a change, I needed a change.

So among the apprehensive feelings I have about making such a drastic change, I'm surprised to feel such hope.