are we human... or are we sun-dancers?

I am officially volunteering for Sundance, via the Park City Film Series. The site where they hold the film series is being used as a Sundance venue and they are looking for volunteers. I am pulling the 9pm to 12 am shift on January 18, 21, and 24th. By doing so I get three passes to three different Sundance films and also a 6-punch pass to the PC Film Series. Can't beat that!

The Sundance lineup looks pretty interesting,

SUNDANCE FILM GUIDE

though I am not sure which film to go see. Do you go for actor or director? Its a tough call.


Option #1: A film directed and starring John Krasinski (Jim from The Office) called Brief Interviews with Hideous Men. Its based on the book by David Foster Wallace, the author of Infinite Jest, whom Drew has recently sumberged himself in. While I tell him not to talk to me about the book, as it has peaked my interest with the few things he has told me about it and I hope to read it eventually, I would seriously consider seeing this film...


Option #2: There is also another film starring Richard Gere, Ethan Hawke, Don Cheadle, Wesley Snipes, and Ellen Barkin called Brooklyn's Finest. Beyond the stunning lineup, the movie description boasts, "crosscutting between multiple subplots, Brooklyn's Finest unfolds violently and passionately as coiled, constantly roving cinematography contributes a measure of unease to the underworld action." I love the idea of seeing this concept unfold on screen. However, despite the stunning lineup, I have never heard of the director, Antoine Fuqua.


Option #3: There's always Jim Carrey in a dramatic role, which I always marvel at. I Love You Phillip Morris follows Carrey, a con, falling in love with his eventual roomate who goes by the name of Phillip Morris. So there's that


Option #4: What would Sundance be without the token Culkin coming-of-age film, this time focusing on Rory instead of Kieran (whatever happened to MacCauley?). Lymelife seems sad but intriguing.


Option #5: Adam Elliot, the Aussie Academy Award winning director of the claymation feature Harvey Krumpet, has come out with what is sure to be Masterpiece #2 Mary and Max. There's always that.


Option #6: Michael Cera makes an apperance at Sundance in Paper Heart, and there has never been a Cera moment that hasn't made me fall further in love with him and his career. The movie plot doesn't really reel me in (pardon the fishing-turned-film pun) but sometimes you gotta give an obscure movie about modern romantic cynicism a shot.


Option #7: If not just for Gael Garcia Benal, then for Diego Luna, or for Carlos Cuaron - all three having a hand in Y Tu Mama Tambien. Rudo y Cursi is a classic Latin film about futbol. C'mon, let's go watch these boys run around and sweat. God, I'm such a man-izer.


Option #8: They are bringing back Steven Soderbergh's sex, lies and videotape, the film single-handedly responsible for bringing Sundance to the forefront, is being shown. Should I opt for a classic? Though, I can probably find this on DVD...


Option #9: There is always a Kevin Spacey flick - especially intriguing is that he is a Shrink in the aptly titled film. Quite a shift from his role in American Beauty; more along the lines of Negotiator. Could be good...

So you see the options and decisions that lie ahead of me.

My question for you, the reader, meaning Allison, which would you go see? Feel free to open my eyes to something other than American, Aussie, or Mexican. There are tons of Canadians and a few other countries represented...I have yet to go through all of the ones that didn't catch my eye on the first skim through.

the rich people are in town!

So December 26th marks the first day of serious tourist occupancy in Park City.

The parking lot at the base of the gondola to take you up to the Canyons resort went from scarce to packed overnight.

Drew's midnight trip to the Albertson supermarket (a step above a nice Stop and Shop) last night brought stories of nightmarish visions of empty shelves and spilled beer and broken bottles in the aisles. While telling me this story, I envisioned flickering lights swinging above his head in the cereal aisle as soft focus shadows darted just beyond his peripheral vision. "They were out of 2% milk! And there was no Gouda cheese, just a few packages of $13 Jarlsberg and Baby Bell! It was like something out of a horror movie. It was like the shadiest supermarket in Saratoga Springs right before a blizzard. It was so strange."

A horror movie indeed.

Park City is ransacked with desperate vacationers.

Correction: desperate RICH-beyond-my-wildest-fancy vacationers.

The economically elevated tourist finds themself in interesting relationship with "locals". (No body is actually from Park City, so therefore, very few true locals actually exist. Most "locals" fluctuate in and out of town right before and after the busy season.) While the town depends on them as consumers of luxury (as the tourists are paying top dollar to be able to shut their minds off and just vacation), Park City folks find their reliance on the tourist married to a simultaneous blossoming disdain for their parasitic invasion of the town. The density of people in Park City has quadrupled (at least) and can not only witnessed by the horror movie supermarket situation, but also at the crowded lift lines and slopes at the mountains, the packed restaurants, and the bumper-to-bumper traffic coming in and out of town proper. Park Citizens find themselves now breathing in an entirely different air compared to the pre-holiday, stress-free, no-traffic, mountain fresh, granola atmosphere. The breaths are shallower, more intense - frankly it now feels more like NYC more than ever - all in response to these rich fogies.

A part of the fogie equation that is often neglected until too late - rich fogies have a tendency to make offspring in order to eventually pass on their wealth and family name. Oh, we cannot neglect the rich brats. What about having money either makes your child skip childhood altogether and become a 30 year old aristocrat trapped in a 8 year old's body or transforms your child into the spoiled spawn of Satan? These kids are either blindly inserted into the daily itinerary or more often they dictate it. Brats fuel Park City's economy just as much as the fogies do. I'm convinced.

Yesterday, while working J.Crew, these two siblings were roughhousing by the women's silk shirt display out of their parents sight. To get them to calm down a fellow employee jested, "You shouldn't be roughhousing around this part of the store; this is our expensive stuff." All the employees acknowledged his sarcasm with a slight giggle. Now, it is important to note that at this point most kids would be embarrassed that someone other than their parents just scolded them. Not these brats.

The big brown eyes on the older of the two widened as he pouted his lips and placed one hand on his hip and pointed at the silk shirts, "My dad can buy ALL this stuff." He proceeds to make a 360 pointing motion, implying that not only could his dad buy ALL of the silk shirts, but also the silk lined wool skirts, our entire stock of chinos (in black, brown, and standard khaki), the display of graphic tees that layed neatly folded in stacks on the table to his right, and the blazers hanging behind him. I would also go so far as to say he was implying that his father could buy our entire inventory, which frankly could be the honest truth. He then manufactured the most rancid face I've ever seen on what could have barely been an 8 year old and sternly walked away.

Who did this kid think he was? "My dad can buy ALL this stuff?" What a little jerk. I dont care if his father was Sean effing Penn. As flabbergasted employees of a factory outlet, where our stuff really isnt that expensive, we couldn't help but laugh, but seriously, though, how did that come out of this kid's mouth? Unbelievable. It gives you just insight as to the kind of people and the certain level of tongue in cheek disrespect that Park Citizens in the service industry are having to deal with.

Not all tourists are super rich, but frankly most of them are toting some sort of wealth around with them. Not all who tote the dough are painful company, but there is definitely a difference in the way people around Park City are treated by these folks compared to teh few visitors a few weeks ago. The conundrum: I want rich fogies around when I am sitting in the gallery or standing in J.Crew. I want to sell them beautiful (and expensive) art; I want them to buy over $500 worth of clothing. I want to keep them around to make money off of their investments. Conversely, I want them to vanish before my eyes when I am throwing myself down the mountain or when I am driving home from work. I want Drew to be able to go to Albertsons and buy 2% Milk without having to step through a surreal nightmare. I want to exile some of the rich brats to Moldovia to let them realize that theres more to life than daddy buying "ALL this stuff"; their actions come with more repercussions than a dollar sign or two.

Oh how living in a ski town is like no other.

MERRY CHRISTMAS: "i wouldn't quite call it shredding... though i believe the word "tumbling" sums it up pretty well..."

Today.
I am the sorest I have been since my first day of pilates at Vassar with Theresa kicking my butt.

Yesterday,
My first day snowboarding.
EVER

Incredible. In every way.
Incredibly fun.
Incredibly hard.
Incredibly painful.
Incredibly cold.
Incredibly beautiful.
Incredibly fast.
Incredibly unsteady.
Incredibly snowy.

Can I just stress how hard it is to learn, especially for someone who isn't terribly coordinated or skilled in the way of doing things that are lacking friction with the ground. Not to mention I easily submit to the laws of gravity, so hence the bruises and aching muscles.

Besides feeling like I am recovering from being hit by a bus, it was awesome. And despite feeling like I am recovering from a fall from the top of a very tall building, I would do it again in a heartbeat... if it was free... and once I wasn't this sore.

It was simultaneously the most liberating and hardest thing I've done in a long time, and I couldn't think of a better way of spending Christmas morning. Drew had to work 7am-4pm and my lesson was from 9:15am-3:00pm. Perfect. The mountain was empty in the morning. No lines, no "let's-try-out-my-new-gear-that-I-got-for-Christmas" tourists, and tons and tons of new snow. The flakes kept falling, covering the tracks of those that had shredded or fallen before you.

My instructor sucked, but I learned a lot.

I also fell a lot. Most of the falls were great; my forearms or bum hitting the fresh powder. Only once, on what I made sure was my last run, did I bite it so hard that my head began throbbing as soon as I stopped sliding. That was when I called it a day and took the lift back down.

I called Drew on my lunchbreak and he asked, "how is my little shredder doing?"

I responded with, "i wouldn't quite call it shredding... though i believe the word "tumbling" sums it up pretty well... but I am better than I was a couple of hours ago!"

yehaw.

MY FIRST SOLO-SALE!

I made my first solo-sale today at 5:30PM MST today! YAY! It was truly a rush. Pictured above, it is a light-hearted piece by a CO artist Mary Scrimgeour. Her work is highly influenced by math and music. They are highly textured and the surfaces are intensely worked. This work, Black Dog is 20 x 20, she always works on square canvases, and is one of my favorites of her new pieces in the gallery.

Off to gift wrap it and celebrate my awesomeness!!!

mmm cheese mites...

I recently tried a French cheese by the name of Mimolette. It is officially one of my top five favorite cheeses. Made even more fabulous when paired with a 2006 Fleur de California Pinot Noir, though I could see how the strong nutty flavor of the heavenly aged milk would go well with a sweeter wine as well.


Delicious. Okay. But this post is more than just to let you know I eat cheese. In honor of one of my favorite shows, Good Eats with Alton Brown, lets talk about how the cheese is made.

Louis XIV wanted a French cheese to resemble the Dutch cheese Edam (also delicious). Though, in order to make it "French," he decided to color it orange. What a French prick, good cheese though. So this cow’s milk cheese is aged anywhere from six months to two years and stored in a moist environment. It’s turned once a week and begins to develop a hard crater-like surface.

THE CRATERS ARE ACTUALLY THE RESULT OF CHEESE MITES THAT EAT INTO THE CHEESE AT IT AGES. THE MITES (ciron) ARE BRUSHED OFF THE FREAKIN' CHEESE ON A REGULAR BASIS AS TO MATURE THE FLAVOR OF THE CHEESE WITHOUT HANDING IT OVER TO THE LITTLE BUGGERS! BUT DONT WORRY, THEY COME BACK. WHICH CREATES THE HARD GREY RIND AROUND THE YUMMY ORANGE CHEESE.


I mean, I know cheese is aged milk, which could be considered deliciously disgusting to begin with, but do we really need to invite the bugs? to hang out on my cheese? Do bugs really make my cheese taste good? Better than otherwise leaving it alone? Thats unfortunately interesting, though its hard not to think about the creepy crawling ciron in all of my imaginative forms while noshing on the firm wonder that is Mimolette. I guess its a good thing that I was sloshing back a natural anticeptic - Pinot Noir.

Oh how the good things in life only get tastier with age... and mites.

I met utah's indiana jones

The gallery opening Friday night went well, considering the snowstorm that closed I-80 eastbound into PC and scattered cars and trucks along the sides of highways and smaller roads. the storm lasted a little over 19 hours and dumped over a foot or so on our little heads. Despite the chaos that the storm presented our attendees (or lackthereof) with, we had a decent turn out. One sale, many conversations. Overall, I think it went very well.

I wish I could say that the sale was the highlight of the evening, and while it is great, I must confess... the commission I made on that sale cannot compare to the conversation that I had with the father of one of our artists.

He is Utah's own Indiana Jones.

In general, Utahns love outdoors sports - hiking and biking in the summers; skiing, snowboarding, snowshoeing in the winter - but apparently there are quite a few Utahns who dedicate their lives to combing the varied terrain of the state for secret treasures. Some are in search of a particular treasure - the lost Aztec city of Aztlan.

Aztlan is the mythical place of origin of the Aztec peoples. In their language (Nahuatl), the roots of the word Aztlan are the two words: aztatl and tlan meaning "heron" and "place of," respectively. 'Tlan' proper means tooth, and as a good tooth is firmly rooted in place, and does not move, the prefix of this word is commonly used in Nahuatl to denote settlements, or place names, e.g. Mazatlan (place of deer), Papalotlan (place of butterflies) or Tepoztlan (place of metal). The Nahuatl language is often said to include three levels of meaning for its words or expressions: literal, syncretic and connotative. The connotative meaning of Aztlan, due to the color of the plumage of herons, is "Place of Whiteness." The mythical descriptions of Aztlan would have it to be an island, as depicted in the map above.

In the origin myths of the Aztecs, it is believed that their people emerged from the bowels of the earth through seven caves (Chicomostoc) and settled in Aztlan, from which they subsequently undertook a migration southward in search of a sign that would indicate that they should settle once more. This myth roughly coincides with the known history of the Aztecs as a migratory horde that migrated from present-day northwestern Mexico into the central plateau sometime toward the end of the first millennium AD.

The exact physical location of Aztlan is unknown, other than it could have been located near estuaries or on the coast of northwestern Mexico, though some archaeologists have gone so far as to locate the present town of San Felipe Aztlan, Nayarit, as the exact place. Sources of water are important in considering its location, as it is most often considered to have been an island.

While the location of Aztlan is hotly debated, it is believed by some scholars to be in Utah based on studies that have been done (mere speculations if you ask me) of Pre-Ice Age Aztec migration patterns. The map below shows some of these routes.

Turns out, Mormons are actually very interested in this theory that Aztlan is located in Utah. Without getting into too much detail, Mormon history traces lost Israelite tribes (Nephites and Lamanites) through North America. If Aztlan is truly located in Utah, then the myth of Quetzalcoatl, the white god who appeared in the Americas, justifies (in the LDS' mind) the Book of Mormon and its tale of Jesus Christ appearing in the "New World" after his resurrection.

Crazy shit, no? Look it up, there are tons of sites dedicated to this stuff.

Either way, Indiana Jones claims to have found Aztlan.

We started this whole conversation talking about driving in snow. He told me that he drives about an hour from Park City to his parking spot, where he keeps his snowmobile that he rides another 40 minutes to get to his camp. "Camp?" I ask. "What do you do there?" Its where he works... as a treasure hunter. He goes on splunking missions, cave exploring, and plain old Indiana Jones kind of activities. He claims to have found mummies, gold, seer stones, cave writings, tablets with writings on them, weapons, utilitarian objects, you name it, hes found it. "Pardon my skepticism, but if I told you I had a hard time believing you, what would you say?" He said nothing and just leaned over to be able to pull this small orange tupperwear from his pocket. He snapped the top off and dumped a gold coin with a sun symbol on it into my hands. "I never leave home without it. I was robbed once, a lot of my stuff was stolen. Now I keep all of my findings in a trailer in the desert in the south [of Utah]."

All I could do was stare at the coin in my hand. Was it truly over 15,000 years old? Forged by Aztecs? Part of a currency of a lost city? Was this guy a total quack?

My conversation with him went on for almost an hour. He was captivating in the way I would imagine the folks who shoot Planet Earth or an Astronaut would be. He had stories about getting injured on solo expeditions and having to crawl back to his camp, taking days. I could've talked to him for another hour, easily. Apparently, he is documenting his findings very carefully. He takes photographs and works with a team of filmmakers who are in the process of making a documentary film to eventually be submitted to Sundance. So look to the next few festivals for the documentary which I would easily title, "Indiana Jones and The Lost City of Aztlan". Awesome.

He also told me the Mormon Church is very interested in his research for aforementioned reasons. I asked him if he was Mormon and he said no, but the Mormons he was in conversation with said he was Mormon but didn't know it yet, based on the fact that if the research he was doing was conclusive enough, it would justify the history of the whacky religion that is Mormonism.

So was Indiana Jones full of it? Honestly, I don't know.

Frankly, I don't care because it is more fun to think that I spoke with Indiana Jones than a loony from the boonies.

Plus, I like to think that I was holding an seriously awesome, shiny, ancient, Aztec coin.

oh how a small part of me misses sarah palin in the limelight...

http://palinspeak.com/

http://palinquotes.sillycloud.com/#

TESTING THE FAITH

So I am just realizing how obsessed I am becoming with Mormonism and its quirks. It's like how I become obsessed with tracing and researching religious Fundamentalists/isms, conspiracy theories, or extraterrestrials. The fact of the matter is: I don't have to believe that they are true or exist in order to become highly addicted to the subject matter at hand.

In the vein of my Mormon adventure that is Utah:


'I can't ... I'm Mormon' T-shirts too hot
BYU newspaper yanks ad as some perceive desire to sin

---

Posted: September 29, 2004
5:00 pm Eastern

T-shirts proclaiming the message "I cant ... I'm Mormon" are apparently too hot for Brigham Young University, as the college newspaper has yanked all advertisements.

According to the Deseret Morning News, the paper halted the ad campaign after complaints from students, professors and administrators who felt the slogan implied a desire to engage in "objectionable" behavior.

Many thought wearers of the clothing wished they could drink, smoke or have casual sex – but were prevented solely because of their membership in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

One letter to the editor stated: "I can't, I'm Mormon, but if I wasn't, you know I'd be there 'cause it sounds sweet!"

Some reportedly believed the woman modeling the T-shirt in the ad posed in an overly provocative manner.

The objections are surprising to the designer of the shirt, Utah Valley State College student Chad Ramos.

Having grown up in Las Vegas, Ramos says the slogan came in handy whenever he was asked to drink or smoke.

"I found if I told people I didn't drink, they didn't know how to react," he told the News, "but if I said, I can't, I'm Mormon, they said, 'Oh,' and boom, it was over."

Thus, he was shocked by the BYU backlash.

"I didn't identify with it. I couldn't even relate," he said. "Anybody who's lived outside Utah has said this a hundred times."

Jim Kelly, general manager of the Newsnet Advisory Board which runs the student newspaper, says he, not the administration of the university, made the decision to remove the commercial.

"We don't frequently pull ads, but in terms of declining to run ads, probably two weeks don't go by that we don't decline ads for the Daily Universe," he told the News. "It is universal among newspapers to exercise the right to refuse ads considered objectionable. We're pleased we have high standards, and we're never apologetic about it."

Gallery Show Opening!

Today marks the opening of our miniature show. Its a wonderful little collection of pieces smaller than 12" x 12" completed by local Utah artists. Here are some of my favorites (highlights):

Jan Perkins, 10 o'clock in the Morning

Aaron Memmott, Winter Wonderland

Ryan Brown, Pastoral Sunset II

Today also marks snow day number 7, I believe. Over the past week we have gotten over two feet of snow. Its absolutely lovely. As a matter of fact, its snowing on Main Street as I write.

Yay! White Christmas.

watch. and keep warm. wear magic mormon underwear.

my talk with Gary the mormon

Gary the Mormon came into the gallery yesterday afternoon.

I didn't know he was a Mormon at first.

He was a white haired, casually dressed man in his late 60s, I'd say. He had small oval glasses and blue eyes. His shoes were wet from the snow-covered sidewalk outside. He walked in the gallery door and I engaged him, like any other customer, with information about the works he was pausing in front of. He was interesting, inquisitive, and talkative, which is always welcomed on my part.

"Do you collect art?" I asked. "Yes, I do," he replied. "Great!" I thought to myself, "a prospective client!" After walking the perimeter of the gallery and talking about Southwest Art Magazine and modern art vs. classical landscape work, he took a seat next to me, and changed the topic of conversation by asking me why I was in Park City (i think he realized that I am not from Utah as most people do, though I do like to think that the gallery sometimes cloaks my foreign manners or lack thereof). I told him I majored in art history and religion at Vassar and love NYC. "How are you liking Utah, then?" he asked me.

"Its a change of pace, a change of scenery. So far its treating me rather well and as much as I might long for a Deli, pizza, bagels, or just someplace open after 8pm, I'm not itching to go back home just yet." I replied. (This is my standard answer to that question.)

Just then his cell phone rang. "Hi, hunny. Okay, well I'm just in a gallery on Main Street talking with a lovely woman who majored in art history and religion. She's from New York but came to Utah to learn about Mormons and art. We're scheduling her baptism for Friday. We just need to find a nice stream or river... okay...I promise not to scare her. Yes. I'll be there at 2. Bye."

At this point, I figured he was Mormon and seen as which it was about ten after one, or so, I knew I was in for a conversation worth remembering and sharing and blogging about. I didn't know what to say after he hung up, so I said the most Mormon-engaging thing I could think of, "That was amusing. A baptism?"

"Yes. Isn't that why you came to Utah?" He proceeded to tell me not to judge Mormons by rumors that I've heard. His defense was just as though there are crazy Catholics or Jews, there are Mormons who like to have multiple wives and follow other crazy tenets. He told me that you have to be a little bit crazy to be a Mormon. I silently agreed. He said that is the case because, "Mormons are all about family. They come before everything. Then when our kids are 19yrs old we send them to all corners of the earth on mission. You've got to be crazy to do that." I thought that was heart warming and terribly honest.

Since I am currently reading Jon Krakauer's "Under the Banner of Heaven: A Story of Violent Faith" I decided to probe him for information. (The book is worth a read, especially if you are a history or religion junkie like myself.) I asked Gary what he thought of the book and he played dumb. He told me that I would have to write up a review for him; I took that to mean he's never read it and probably never will.


"So I don't know much about Mormonism except for a few things I've picked up here or there. Can you tell me what is the chain of command within the Mormon church?" I asked Gary, even though Krakauer wraps it up pretty concisely in a footnote on page 4:

"Control of the LDS Church resides in the hands of fifteen men. At the top of the hierarchical pyramid is the "President, Prophet, Seer and Revelator," who is believed to be God's direct mouthpiece on earth. The LDS president appoints two trusted apostles to serve as his first counselor and second counselor; collectively these three men function as the First Presidency. Immediately below the First Presidency is the Quorum of Twelve Apostles, and together, these fifteen men (they are always men; women are excluded from positions of authorirty in the Mormon Church) hold sway over the institution and its membership with absolute power. All fifteen men serve for life. At the time of the president's death, the Quorum of the Twelve appoints as new president the apostle from their ranks who has served the longest; hence the exceedingly advanced age of most Mormon presidents." (Krakauer, Under the Banner of Heaven; New York: Doubleday, 4)

Gary was pretty dead on, or should I say Krakauer was. Gary explained that the current president is so old and decrepit that he needs three trusted apostles to serve as his counselors. "Sometimes when men get old, they get cranky and senile, and we can't have someone like that running our church." When he dies, they will pick the next most decrepit man to be president. Seems like a good idea, keeping the church in the hands of a crazy old man...

All this talk about men running the church led to my next probing querry: "Where are women represented in the Mormon church? I mean, are they even represented at all?" "As equals," Gary replied quickly. "No, I mean in the hierarchy. Politically. If men run the church, where are the women?" "Well we keep them in separate bedrooms, of course, so they don't fight over us men," Gary joked.

He would make what I am from now on calling "terribly awkward, stereotypically fueled, HILARIOUS Mormon" jokes. Its like how Carlos Mencia can make fun of Hispanics, Margaret Cho can make fun of Asians, Chris Rock and Dave Chapelle of Blacks, and Ellen Degeneres of gays, except there is no precedence for Mormon humor. It's so strange. (As an aside, I am finding that most normal Mormons are very nice, almost too nice, but also possess a dark sense of humor. I work with two Mormon brothers at J.Crew and while they are very nice they have very sardonic humor, which I find myself personally drawn to based on my own dark, dry humor.)

Gary basically couldn't give me a good answer to any of my questions, though he was very engaging and humorous. He said that women were part of the lower ranks of the church. Below the main fifteen men, there are "Bishops" of "Stakes" (Synods) which were comprised of many "Wards" (parishes). Each Stake and Ward were governed under the "fifteen model" (i.e. the head dude has two right hand men and then a parliament of twelve). Within each Ward existed women who represented the "Young Women's Program".

The purpose of the Young Women organization is to help each young woman, ages 12 to 18, "come unto Christ" (Moroni 10:32).

By following the Savior's example and teachings, she can:

• Solidify her testimony of Jesus Christ and the restored gospel.
• Fulfill her mortal mission.
• Return to live with her Heavenly Father.
  (See "Young Women," section 4 of the Church Handbook of Instructions, Book 2: Priesthood and Auxiliary Leaders [1998], 211.)

Leaders of young women have a vital role in helping them learn the gospel of Jesus Christ and develop testimonies (see Guidebook for Parents and Leaders of Youth [2001], 5–6).

"Our desire is to help young women be worthy and pure and to prepare every young woman to receive the blessings and ordinances of the temple. We will work tirelessly with your daughters, with you, and with priesthood and Young Women leaders to protect and strengthen and prepare our precious young women to be virtuous and pure and live the standards that will help them be free and happy and allow them to reach their divine potential. We know that we are all elect daughters of God. We also know that each one of us has a great work to perform."

—Elaine S. Dalton, Young Women general president

Check out their part of the LDS website by clicking on the icon above. I don't totally get how this works, though it seems to train young girls to "live the standards that will help them to be free and happy and allow them to reach their divine potential." Just a formulaic way of training their women to follow orders at a young age. Like I said, I don't get it and am still trying to figure out the place and role of women in the Mormon church. (I'll get back to you after I've done more research.)

Gary told me that the Young Women's program was the best opportunity for Mormon women to develop their faith and leadership within the church. After doing some more research, its seems more like a "learn your place" program cloaked as a "leadership training" program. I asked how many girls vs. boys go on mission, he said it was about a 20/80 relationship. It is more common for boys to go, for reasons, again, he couldn't give.

In the end, I didn't learn as much about the Mormon faith as I did about a Mormon's lifestyle. He was very open with me about his past. He told me stories about his two sons and his wife. He told me stories about when he worked at the Osmond's Children's Miracle Network and when he was "called" to be an LDS bishop in Salt Lake City. I also learned that he was "called" to be a Mission President in CA for two years (in charge of over 100 19yr old Mormons on mission) and bought his current house over the phone while still in CA. Beyond everything he was an art lover, brought his kids up as art lovers, and beyond his knowledge of Utah artists and his opinion on the influence of art on one's life, it was his honesty and genuine conversation that I loved having him in the gallery.

Though a persistant and devout Mormon, he was level-headed and quite moderate compared to what I expected. He wasn't against gay marriage, "I have lots of gay friends, and they are great people. I can't identify with them, but they're great people." (I didn't ask if being a "great person" got you into heaven, let alone into the church. I wasn't going to go near that, nor Prop 8.) He wasn't against nude art, he identified as a Democrat, he loves coffee and has drank it in the past but won't touch it now even though he loves it, he loves his wife and only his wife, and he is working on not swearing so much (his favorite cuss word is "hell").

Gary was my very first true Mormon encounter. When Maren, the gallery owner, came in, Gary told her that I had told him that if he bought a painting to impress my boss then I would convert.

He didn't buy a painting, so needless to say I am still Lutheran.

A View of Park City

This is an example of what Drew and I wake up to every morning:


This is Main Street, where the gallery where I work at is located:


Here is a scene that one of our artists Aaron Memmott did of Main Street:

keep warm

Only after living in park city for six weeks do I realize what the term "snowfall" truly means. Not only is it snowing but snow is falling from the sky. Falling on my face smearing my mascara, falling on my car and making the windsheild all foggy, falling on the roads and making it slushy and slippery, falling on the mountain so people can ski and snowboard and do what they do, falling so Park City can make money. Only now do I fully understand the need for snow tires and warm, layered, fleece-lined, waterproof clothing. Columbia boots have become my choice footware in lieu of ballet flats (too bad they dont comply with J.Crew's dress requirements). its truly incredible how cold this place gets, and while this does not qualify as a complaint (I did move out here by choice), i think its worth commenting on the fact that my boogers froze this morning. yeah. really COLD. luckily, Betty (the stunning beauty below)


has braved the cold as heartily as we have, though the lack of snow tires is definitely a strike against her. we are currently working on those. this morning NPR notified me that this coming weekend its supposed to go down to the teens during the day and almost 20 degrees below at night. it roused within me something resembling, "hahahahahahahaha."

but its just these temperatures, and the subequent snow, that make park city quite the place to be right now. as we enter peak season (winter) the tourists come flooding in and by mid-January (Sundance) this place will (hopefully) be filled to its capacity with out-of-towners with lots of money. they are the lifeblood of this town, fueling its economy. frankly, I cant wait for them to arrive so I can start selling them art.

this coming week will be one month that I have been employed at Gallery MAR, "Park City's Freshest Art Gallery." the prospect of being able to talk about art and make some money tickles my fancy and the gallery is a perfect venue for such an exchange. its a great place to work - not only because its in my field of interest and study, but because I have business cards. (yes, it reads Monica V. 'Fine Art Consultant'... although fine art extraordinaire does have a pleasant sound to it...) i also have a great boss and we showcase really talented artists. if i had a few extra zeroes at the end of my account balance, rest assured some of the works on our walls (and in our storage closet) would eventually make their way into my collection. one day. until then, i will live vicariously though our clients.



Keep warm.