Right now. Is gone. Right now. Is over even before I finish penning the letters R-i-g-h...

Right now might be captured with a photograph device, however, that is only a fragment of right now. A sliver of time, paused in a frame. But it doesn't fully capture right now to the right.

I felt as though I were just a bit smarter today than yesterday. Is that what "wisdom beyond years" supposed to imply? I can see the old man hiding behind his dusty stacks of wrinkles, spitting out some belligerent line about how much smarter he is because of all of the minutes that he has spent breathing, seeing, smelling, talking. The fact of the matter is that the older I get, the more strategic my thinking becomes. Age begets planners with nice paper and fancy fonts. Planners beget five-year plans and that's where I throw up in my mouth and spit it out, realizing that I just threw up in my mouth.

Speaking of throwing up.

After recovering from a stomach ailment, one feels a whole new appreciation for your body's limits. Thoughts retroactively hit the back of your head like an untreated 2x4 like, "Maybe that raw milk cheese that I sampled at the Farmer's Market wasn't the smartest of ideas. Pasteurization was implemented for a reason, I guess." I'm not really sure what caused the 24-hour illness that plagued me a few weeks ago, though it is a few weeks later and I can still appreciate how not sick I feel. Are you suuuuure youre not pregnant?" my boss would ask me upon revealing why I made her cover for me the afternoon that I puked my brains out. "I'm sure," I said. Frankly I don't care what caused it; as long as I'm not pregnant then I'm happy to not care. "

and its already JULY? + RANT

happy fourth of july.
happy fifth of july.
happy sixth, seventh, eighth and nineth.
FUCK the tenth.
but happy eleventh and twelfth of july.

IT IS FREAKING JULY PEOPLE!
Normally, I wouldve woken up to this fact when school ended, but heck, im apparently done with that. oh school.

Today's fascinating aspect of post-graduate living: NOT NECESSARILY KNOWING/NEEDING TO KNOW WHAT DAY OF THE WEEK IT IS.

Sundays used to be special. As were Fridays. The former lazy, the latter crazy.
But here I am, living my "semi-adult" life in Park City, UT.
Sundays are hectic. Fridays are long. Working weekends takes away the laze and craze. Its truly unfortunate. If I decide to follow the "corporate suit", the 9-5 work day might lend itself to the Sundays and Fridays that currently exist only in memories. Otherwise, good-bye to the weekend calm that allowed for wonderful lazing and crazing.

Somewhat related rant: Summer has officially lost the special, exciting quality it once had. It started to dwindle when I began scrounging around for internships/resume builders about five years ago... but besides the change in weather, Summer is no longer marked by long hot days of playing made-up games involving some rendition of "tagging" and "base", perhaps "freeze" if we were feeling saucy. Nights where we would stay up late talking about Summer Reading or how much we wanted ice cream from the ice cream man, but then bitching about how our parents wouldnt give us money. Nights before "bitching" was part of my regular vocabulary or daily schedule. Lightning-bug-catching innocence. So blissfully oblivious as not to notice the mosquito bites until the middle of the night, when they would itch harder than a 100% irish wool cable knit against dry brittle winter skin. Taking the time to put on bug spray took away minutes of sunlight on nights when it would stay light out until 9pm, sometimes later. Thats when our parents agreed we should go in. DUSK. "Can we stay out if we sit on the steps?" we would ask. If the 'rents were in a good mood they would say yes, however, if we had crossed them earlier that day, the answer was a heartbreaking no.

This brings me to my next qualm with adult life. Why is it seemingly harder to make "play dates" as we get older? When was the last time you asked someone if you COULD go out and PLAY? When was the last time you made a friend by sharing your toys? Its harder to make friends without toys. Thats what Ive decided. Adult toys (no not those) have larger dollar signs. Is that a new car? a new dress? the more decimal places, the more impressive. OR SO IT SEEMS. So what have toys been replaced with? Money. Play money. PLAY. fuck money.

Its been interesting going from a liberal college, where I had daily interactions with like-minded 20-somethings, to a small ski town in the middle of Utah, the most RED state in the country, full of crazy MOs and almost 3000 miles away from anyone i know. I havent thought about making friends in YEARS and now I find myself without, lacking. One particularly miserable day, while parsing through my friend dilemma amidst a curious blend of anxiety and boredom, I was told by someone who shall remain annonymous, "You make friends by doing things. You dont do anything, Monica." I was offended only until I realized that I DO FUCKING DO THINGS, but the things I do and enjoy doing on a regular basis arent particularly conducive to friend-making. Way to go MONICA: Museum going, art making, movie watching, music listening, reading, running, thrift store hunting, coffee chatting. WAY TO ENJOY DOING LONELY INTELLECTUAL CAT-LADY ACTIVITIES. All are fun to do with friends, when you have them, but none draw people looking to mingle...

IMAGINE: seeking out companionship at a gallery/museum. weird. posting an ad on craigslist regarding a friend to make art with. weird. sitting next to someone random at a movie theatre and chatting them up. weird. placing your ipod headphone ear bud into the guy's ear next to you on the bus. weird. running alongside a random fellow jogger and trying to keep pace... and eye contact. weird. the list can go on, but I digress.

NOW imagine: being on the other side of this friend-seeking equation. AWKWARD.

Now imagine: people that actually respond to this kind of behaviour/ entertain such interactions. I find myself feeling SKEPTICAL, thinking to myself, "Why is this person REALLY talking to me?"

Though I am altogether guilty of this, I wish that we as a race werent so guarded as we got older. Not trying thinking too hard about it, I assume, at some point we become content with our place in life/society well enough that we morph into beautiful SKEPTICS. we question intentions, motives as people become more astute at taking advantage of people. We are told to be proactive - learn from your mistakes - instead of being encouraged to make them. we lose. period.



STOP.



This frustration makes it seem as though there is no one in town that is a potential friend. Nothing is further than the truth. THE TRUTH? I am frustrated. Lonely. Hanging in there, but longing.

My problem is the transient nature of cool people moving through a ski town. VACATION buddies. Momentary interactions that never yeild more than one beautiful encounter. Ive MET more people here than I have in a while, however, I cannot remember their names. I dont know much more about them than the outfit they had on and perhaps their hometown. Displaced New Yorkers tend to leave a more lasting impression, probably because they talk fast and I feel warm. I feel at home. I miss home.

its already May??

Last week I made the most incredible/insane drive of my life.
10.5 hours; 700 miles x 2
Park City, UT to Los Angeles, CA and back.

Everything from Southern Utah to the Arizona/Nevada border is gorgeous. Jagged peaks sitting atop green pastures scattered with trees and cows. Red-rock country is also a sight worth driving through. Then the desert happened. Nevada is a desolate landscape where one prays that their car isnt sacrificed to the hellfire demons of the desert. While driving, I saw not only multiple flat tires being changed and smoking open-hooded cars but also a handful of crazy hitchhikers just trailing I-15, like you do? Some of the broken down cars were newer than Betty, which freaked me out. "Good girl, good girl," I kept saying under my breath, as though i were calming a canine. How ridiculous was i to be driving a car almost considered to be a "Classic" through the Mojave? TWICE? I began to drive myself crazy listening for possible warning signs that i was about to become dinner for the scavengers of the desert. Between blasting beats supplied generously by drew's ipod, I would hear what I thought to be an odd noise coming from the car, however, the clanking or whirring or buzzing would fade with the turn of the dial. OH Desert Paranoia, how you warp my music!

Then out of the dust, Las Vegas happens. What a societal anomaly that city is! Desert, desert, desert, CITY! What a great way to isolate vice. Surround it by desert. Its only once you drive through it do you begin to wonder why people choose to live there (aside from no property taxes, prostitutes, etc.) because you have to drive through MILES AND MILES AND MILES AND MILES of dry, dusty, barrenness, just to get anywhere that isnt vegas.

It wasnt until the desert after Vegas, the Mojave, that I began to think of CSI. Yes, I am such a tool as to think of television while looking mother nature in the face. I thought about a few episodes where characters were left to die/died in the desert. ::insert some more DESERT PARANOIA here:: "People die here. It makes sense that killers scatter corpses in the middle of the desert. In its expanse and vastness, it just swallows anything that stops moving for an extended period of time without access to water." Praying for rest stops to become visible, I willed Betty through the desert at 90 mph to Los Angeles.

California was a whole other story. I dont know why I was expecting a sort of lush fauna crawling to the ocean kind of vista. Instead there were hilly, rocky, masses that blocked my view of the Pacific. Jerk mountains. Just as I would pass over one, thinking that this was going to be it, cue beautiful view of blue, there was more hilly dry, southern California. Perhaps its more desirable to keep the waterfront views quarantined, but Id dreamed that id see the ocean as i drove in. Though there was no immediate ocean, I was officially in Orange County, which was cool enough for me. Being the tool that I am, I thought about television again as I passed the exits for Chino and headed for the signs that said Newport. Oh Ryan and Marissa, how do you live your fictional lives in this place!

No McMansion Newport OC style accomodations... Instead: Concordia University, Irvine. What a piece of work! I can see why Jordan is transferring. Aside from the campus being terribly small its also filled with super conservative, selfish high schoolers who are headed down the road of trustfund exhausted alcholism. Jordan is definitely outnumbered in this venue, though she had a few friends that were quite awesome. Her roomate situation was unfortunate: I was told to stop bad mouthing Sarah Palin in the dorm room because her obnoxiously rude roomate who was a couple feet away on the other side of the partition she created by positioning two open doors together LOVES the Alaskan govenor. "I dont care," I said. Who likes Palin anyway? Really? I welcomed that debate, though her roomate really didnt talk to me aside from asking how old i was, how long i was dating my boyfriend and if we were getting married. weird.

"Happy Cinco de Drinko!" read Jordan's friend's facebook status. Is it really May already, I thought to myself. Crap. Shots of tequila slammed down raspy swine flu throats could be heard for miles... Cinco de Mayo is big amongst the white upper-middle class college crowd, especially if it means a sample of HPV might be at your party. Extra points for spreading it without showing signs!!! Gross. Dont get me wrong, I had a great time and Jordan was awesome. All you can eat sushi and IN and OUT, PLUS H&M! I was having a greattime. I even got to stick my East Coast feet in the Pacific. The fact of the matter is that there is a reason that East coast and West coast have their stereotypes. I have totally begun to appreciate my Vassar education, especially when I continuously find it difficult to have the conversation that starts with "this one time when i was really drunk..."

The trip home seemed more bareable than the trip there. Perhaps it was because i left at 730AM instead of 430AM. Perhaps it was because I was coming home. Driving towards the green instead of away from it. For the first time since we drove into UT, I appreciated the landscape and climate. Cool mornings, Cool evenings. Beautiful native green in lieu of transplanted palms. The best part of the drive was US-189 through Provo canyon. Somewhere that I will frequent this summer. Lakes, BBQ, sun. mmmmmmm.

When I got home Drew was still playing golf. sucky. So I showered, and plopped onto the couch just in time to catch a Vassar freshman win Jeopardy followed by a great episode of LOST. I passed out rather early that evening...probably because i was totally pooped from driving over 1400 miles in three days.

the chaos that has stopped me from blogging

with spring should come renewal, but instead it has brought chaos and uncertainty.

a brief update is necessary to excuse the extended blogging absence. even though, in my case, blogging is incidental, voluntary, and needn't excuses during brief periods of posting-silence - i still supply you with one, and a good one at that.

the last couple of weeks have been chaotic and ridiculous in true utah fashion. ("utah" adj. the love-child of a bizarre maury-style threesome between words "odd," "stupid," and "awkward.")

drew and i moved to a new apartment last weekend, which was caused by and posed a whole bunch of issues not internet-worthy. amidst the chaos that is packing up two people's lives, moving it 5 miles, and unpacking it, there are job related concerns and subsequent financial woes that keep weighing down our chests to the point that i desperately wanted to go home. yes, NYC home.

the following charts explicate my stress levels in macro and micro analysis.



as you can tell by the latter chart...things have calmed down, sort of. thankfully, time does seem to possess healing potential or at least some sort of sedative, numbing, yogic drug with a blurred "calming" effect. there are ups and downs, though im still queasy when i think too hard for long periods of time. there are things on our plate that will still take weeks to figure out. thats just how it is, how life is (right?). ive come to realize how nice it is to talk to both my and drew's parents about things which i feel so fucking clueless about, scared even - truly, a verbal prozac. being blast into "adult" life in utah? of all places is fucking hysterical if you think about it. what we are going through is absolutely absurd and will truly make a great story one day, if we make it out alive... haha.

in the midst of crazy line charts and all of the simultaneous vaguery and clarity i can muster, i find myself making lists of things in order to keep sane. some lists that have been made: "things that make me sad". "things that make me happy". "things that stress me out". "things that i can do to alleviate said stress".

in an effort to play catch-up with you without having to formulate complete sentences, i supply you with two of these lists.

today's lists:

things that have changed:
residence and mailing address
jobs
weather
income
desire to go home

things that have stayed the same:
love and relationships that matter
love of food
opinions
rights

DISCLAIMER:
despite my stress levels and use of negative verbage in this post, things are totally okay in relation to such atrocities as genocide, war, poverty, starvation, incest, human rights violations, censorship, death, theft, or even mormon conversion. there is no reason to be concerned; i blog in order to document the ridiculousness that is utah, while still trying to maintain some sort of privacy... go figure.

rachel maddow awesomeness

What happens when intelligent liberal media takes the obviously uncalculated, unedited conservatively propagated event (and its unfortunately hysterical associated terms) and runs with it.











man shes so good.

how can i get this guy's job?

just discovered this site. absolutely incredible 360 panoramas of some pretty sweet sites.

i was standing right here!

france is awesome!

i miss home!

okay so for real... how were these built?

i still miss home!

but OH UTAH!

i dont have to veil my hair to view this!

just gander in awe!

sud america!

disney aint got nothin on dickens!

crazy hippies!

really, dude?

so have i mentioned i want to go home?

everyone loves the lama!

awesome. freakin awesome. have fun killing hours traveling the world from your living room or office. incredible.

today nikki and joey are taking their first ever snowboarding lesson down at the canyons resort. i am sad that i am not out there with them, but hoping they are rocking it hard. results of this excursion to follow shortly.

in other news, last night we hung out into the wee hours of the night talking and watching you-tube videos. my personal favorite..."Aww shit, get your towels ready it's about to go down...":



its been quite some time since ive laughed so hard at a you-tube video... good times.

in other more culturally vibrant news...
there is this new art show opening at the Bancaja Cultural Center in Valencia that i wish i could patron. entitled, "evoking the female image," it traces artist Joan Miro's use of the female body in his works.

"Women as a theme run through all Miró’s work. It was an early allure that began during his training as an artist. It was a constant obsession that persisted into his maturity. Miró equated the female figure with the universe. Nonetheless, his portrayals tend to avoid idealization or praise. Miró observed women and his multiple visions reveal rigour, humour, tenderness, eroticism, drama, poetry or everyday life. Miró’s work features nudes, dancers, portraits, imaginary portraits, maternities, lovers, women bathed by water, the sun or the moon, women courted by birds or stars, and hybrid creatures that can be confused with men, stars, animals or plants. His fascination with the female image started out with descriptive figurative portrayals that later turned into ideograms, with elliptic poetical images evoking women through one of their identifying features, or into barely legible signs. Decade by decade, this exhibition traces his obsession from 1917 up to 1981, through paintings, drawings, sculptures, graphic work, photographs, and images and objects from his studios: the Sert Studio and Son Boter."

Not only is Miro's portrayal and encorporation of the female body tasteful and absolutely stunning, but really displays his respect for and the versatility that he believed the body had to offer. From stylized and schematic to figurative or abstract, Miro's women underwent a change so delicate and beautiful that i would love nothing more than to witness this metamorphosis in Valencia, right now.

sigh. instead, utah is what i am left with. another beauty that is altogether wonderful, but not Miro. clearly.

when it is a question of money, everybody is of the same religion

taxes are done, done, done.

::insert tax completion dance here::

and im getting the monies back! woop woop.
celebrate with me!
woop woop.

im never using turbo tax again, we can talk about that some other time.
but woo hoo do i feel good?


yes i do.

i feel like uncle sam just gave me a high five. woo hoo.

okay.

in other news: its snowing.

this is an idea of what park city looked like 48 hours ago:

spring was sneaking in, March 21st. warm, 70 degrees, sun shining, mini golf playing, roll down your windows cause its warm in the car, feel that breeze, spring weather.

this morning, drew had work at 7am so we got ready and stepped outside to see that it looked something like this:

for real.
snow.
has fallen.
winter.
is not over.

this storm is supposed to last overnight and into tomorrow morning when nikki and joey arrive. happy flying and happy days! at least they will get to witness white utah to its fullest potential and experience the snowboarding lesson that one coming out here to learn should experience. purdy sweet.

so yay snow!

did i mention my taxes are submitted, in, done?
CAUSE THEY ARE! WOO HOO!

and yet another set of visitors are gone

drew's fam came into town on 3.19 just as his friend ben flew out.
their stay was much anticipated, a nice dose of familial comfort and love was much needed. they came during an unconventionally warm utah spring, but were still able to ski (despite the slush). cross country adventure plans with his mom were rather impossible (the track was melty-melty) so instead of spiting ourselves with an un-fun muddy ordeal, we hung out on main street, gallery walked, and then spa'd our little panties off while the boys went shopping and induldged in march maddness. it was lovely.

they also took us out to a bunch of very delicious meals (special favorite: Chimayo) and left us all of the leftover groceries, including a very large chunk of extra sharp cheddar and three bottles of wine. mmmm. it was nice to talk about NYC and how we are longing to go back. Utah is beautiful and this summer is sure to be warm and wonderful, but both drew and i are already talking about our trip back home.

park city was never meant to be permanant. in fact, the city perfectly suits the transitional intentions we had coming here. the people are great, in the hospitality industry perfection kind of way that it has become known for...BUT we cannot survive here. we thrive off of urban discovery and potential. while drew's friend ben was here, we took off to SLC for some mini golf and fooding. after dinner, we took a stroll around the corner for some delectable gelato and then decided to complete the block-walk back to Betty. about half-way, i blurted out the realization that "hey, this feels so good! we're walking around! eating ice-cream! in a city!" it was so refreshing and comforting, not because it was Salt Lake City, but because it was something i thoroughly enjoyed back home. it is the pinnacle of so many memorable moments or conversations. (not-so) surprisingly, this is something i need in my life and it took moving to utah and driving everywhere for a couple of months to realize how much i value walking and commuting via competent public transportation. true, i could be sucked into the utah lifestyle and i COULD drive down to salt lake just to get my ice-cream stroll fix, but its just not the same. its just not the same.

my cousins arrive in less than 48 hours and that should be a blast. im pretty much set on blowing their minds...

happy birthday barbie

the pretty dolls seem broken to me
fragments of reality dressed in lacy clothes
that make many lust for them.
seldom advertised is what lies underneath
the tired joints, aching limbs, and
smiles fake but fabulous.

what are we teaching our future, our girls, our women?
"the world is okay, girls. forget the war.
heres a doll, dollface."
the special packaging screams, "we manufactured them just for you,"
as an inspiration perhaps?
using a formula that cannot be duplicated
like coca-cola
and too like the infamous carbonated sugar water
the pretty dolls tell lies.

in order to be cooler
smarter
prettier
wanted
you must follow my lead.
my designers have supplied me with this formula
that works. (how many times have we heard this before?)

so while little boys shoot guns and play golf
shaping their precious bodies and minds with sticks and balls
little girls fondle the pretty dolls, confused
dolls that dont age, learn, or die.
little girls, permanently enrolled in a program
perpetuated by magazines and movies
that claims to provide answers and alternatives
to questions that little girls are supposed to have...

supposed to have?

these questions are subtle, but devised
by the devious.
the pretty dolls have the answers
to questions that are manipulative and heartbreaking,
questions that only breed insecurities and paranoia
in our future, our girls, our women.
when we trip and fall
scraping our supposed to be shaven knees
the pretty dolls stand stiff, looking down
they cannot lend a hand
as we age and die, the pretty dolls
sit right where we last rendezvous'd
alone
so broken, so lost.
dolling out answers to questions I never asked her.

happy birthday barbie.
"youre one heck of a woman, dollface."

washington or vermont?

i have found the perfect master's program for me, its now just making it happen: deciding when i would want to enroll.

Goddard College - MFA in Interdisciplinary Arts

as it explains on the website (i have made bold and italicized the points that sold me):

The low residency MFA in Interdisciplinary Arts is a five semester, 60 credit terminal degree program designed to facilitate students in articulating an original vision, refining expressive and technical skills, and experimenting in new directions. The low residency MFA in Interdisciplinary Arts welcome all art practices, especially those that advance a collective understanding of what art is and what art can be. The program also welcomes practices that are not traditionally part of the Western art tradition. Students and faculty in the low residency MFA in Interdisciplinary Arts Program form a vibrant community of artists in an egalitarian, cooperative, and inquiring learning environment.

The focus of the low residency MFA program is holistic, encouraging students to become the kind of artist they want to be, without trying to socialize them into any preconception of what an artist should be or should do. Students design their individual program of study based on their own interests and professional goals, with one-on-one mentoring from faculty advisors who are also working artists. The low residency MFA in Interdisciplinary Arts Program is one of the few interdisciplinary arts programs in the world committed to reaching across the visual, conceptual and performing arts. Studies in the low residency MFA in Interdisciplinary Arts program take into equal consideration all aspects related to art practices, including emotional, procedural, cultural, political, philosophical, and spiritual dimensions, as well as questions of the artist’s role in community and society.

Work of the Program

The low residency MFA in Interdisciplinary Arts program combines the energizing and enriching potential of intense community and peer learning, with the freedom and flexibility of distance education through an eight day residency and a fifteen week semester of independent study. This format is ideal for artists who wish to attend graduate school without suspending their professional and personal commitments.

The focus of the low residency MFA in Interdisciplinary Arts program is on providing the conditions for each individual artist to clarify their intentions and develop their own unique voice. Each student works one-on-one with faculty advisors to design their individual program of studies based on their own interests, their personal learning style, and their aspirations as professional artists. Students begin by designing an individualized study plan tailored to their specific goals for the program. At the beginning of each of the five semesters, students meet with their faculty advisor during the week-long residency to define the work they will pursue during the semester.

Each semester’s combination of creative and critical work is carried out in the student’s home community and supported by one-on-one mentoring by a faculty advisor. In addition to the goals of their individual study plans, low residency MFA in Interdisciplinary Arts students complete a community-based practicum and produce a final portfolio synthesizing and articulating their work in the program and their art practice.

The Faculty

Faculty advisors in the low residency MFA in Interdisciplinary Arts program work one-on-one with their students to facilitate personal learning goals and the deepening of creative and critical skills. Through open and extended written dialogue, faculty advisors offer feedback, suggestions, affirmation and challenge. The on-going dialogue between student and faculty advisor supports and sustains students throughout their work in the program.

The low residency MFA in Interdisciplinary Arts faculty are active in their fields, working as artists, community-builders, educators, writers, and thinkers. They bring a rich diversity of experience and philosophy to their role as advisors, mentors, and colleagues.

The Residency

Each semester in the low residency MFA in Interdisciplinary Arts program begins with an eight-day residency for students and faculty. Students spend intensive time with their advisors, one-on-one and in small groups, discussing their creative practice and planning their semester’s work. A wide-ranging program of workshops and presentations is offered, exploring contemporary issues and fostering cross-fertilization between mediums and practices. Students of all disciplines have a variety of opportunities to present their current projects, works in progress, and hands-on experimentation. Residencies are a rich opportunity to develop a strong sense of community and establish lasting friendships and creative collaborations.

this might be my ticket to freedom, to expression, to making something out of talents that i just harbor. merely completing the application to this program would force me to spell out exactly what i want to do, what kind of community-based practicum would i want to establish? A community darkroom? a gallery for high school students? an art center? where would i want to do any of these things? back in NYC? do i stick around park city? do i head to another country?
the possibilities, as the seem, are endless. realizing this i am both scared and excited, as this program is intended to do...

the question is:

Students entering the low residency MFA in Interdisciplinary Arts Program choose one of the two following low-residency site options for the duration of their studies:

• The Plainfield, Vermont Residency Option on the campus of Goddard College in beautiful Central Vermont.
• The Port Townsend, Washington Residency Option at the Fort Worden site, located within a vibrant arts community on the Pacific Coast.

do i want to do this in WA or VT?

photo project confession

so i am a photographer with a confession.

i am thinking of getting a tattoo on my forehead which reads:

slacker seeking redemption

since my visitors came and left last weekend, i have managed to revert to my lazy schmuckery in terms of creative production.

CONFESSION: i took a picture this morning. it had been six days since i had contributed to my intense project.

WHERE HAS ALL THE SELF MOTIVATION GONE? down the crapper, thats where. on thursday, in a desperate attempt to redeem my slackerish tendencies, i finally developed my photo project from pinecrest (most of it at least). if i may quickly depart from my self-loathing, the photographs were absolutely breathtaking. beautiful. perfect. it turned out exactly as i had hoped - random, beautiful, candid, comprehensive, diverse, lovely. the project can be viewed here:

PINECREST PHOTO PROJECT

seen as which this project took me two days to complete (sorta) i am going to forgive myself for being such a slacker. i am just going to plug forward and keep snapping away. as much as the digital camera is convenient, the pictures always end up blurry or flat. i remember hating the delay of the shutter as well. i am so used to the picture being taken immediately, that the delay throws me off, hence the blurry. the depth problem wont get any better because frankly its a tiny lens. oh until the day i can afford a digi-SLR. sigh.

on one hand i want to have great photos, on the other, there is something motivating about posting pictures daily. there is something gratifying about seeing your work and if i just keep experimenting with my Diana, which takes 120 film, i will have to a) find time to develop the B+W ones on my own b) in the case of color rolls, i will need to find someone here in PC who will develop them, go down to salt lake, or send them away to B&H or something. that means lots of money and time that i dont have right now... maybe in a couple of weeks. another great thing about having something instant is that i would be forced to keep up with posting them if i have them right NOW.

therefore, the solution that i have come up with takes inspiration from the pinecrest project and might help solve this motivational need for immediacy.

introduction and use of disposable cameras.

i never really think about using disposables because...well, i really dont know why. perhaps its because they remind me of middle school field trips or great adventure, but i am going to embrace that nostalgic hokiness and use them, or at least the two that are sitting in my apartment. they are lighter and more portable than my rangefinders or 35 mm, a little less awkward than my Diana, and they take better pictures than the digi. perhaps i will be inspired to get them developed faster (negatives and then CD cost about $5 a roll and hey, rite aid dude didnt do a bad job...) and being able to get some more instant gratification or at least availability for critique, i would be more motivated in the long run...

or maybe not.
but hey it cant hurt.

Rachel Maddow and UTAH

last night drew and i were doing as we do and watching msnbc when rachel maddow (my hero) talked about utah! "we are in a hopping place," drew said.

enjoy

visitors with lovely faces

allison and kaytee just arrived back in NYC according to the text message that made my phone vibrate with lonesome reckoning. god i miss them. they flew in to SLC on friday and have already gone. good times were had, even though I worked for most of the time that they were in town.

friday was main street day. they accompanied me to work, with drew, and brought food to the gallery from clockwork. mmm dinner. yes, kaytee had very inexpensive chicken fingers from davanzas. (<$6?) they took the car and dropped drew off at work, only to come and get me a few hours later. such gracious guests. we raced to the liquor store to get some rum (Oh Mr. Sparrow, where has all the rum gone?) and wine before they closed for the night and then home we went to drink it all up. crazy day, lazy night.

saturday was their sleep in day, while drew took an early (before 8am?) leave to ride PCMR (i ride park city...hahaha no i dont) with RWest friends and I worked gallery until 1. drew met me on main street and we drove home to pick up the twins and we headed back downtown to cafe terigo where we had a 45 minute meal before we drove drew to work. then back downtown to Fawn where I worked until 9. i gave kaytee and allison my PCfilm series pass and they managed to catch a screening of cadillac records at the PClibrary where i met them after work. then we went home and made tofu stirfry, ate lots, and hung out watching and gossiping randomn things. i also taught allison how to knit while watching the second half of snl. ("what is the rock in now?")

sunday was fawn for me and olympic park seeing for the twins. drew had work also. they took pictures which i am sure you will be able to find on your favorite networking website in a few hours. (kaytee, youre predictably awesome at chronicling adventures). work ended early enough to go to SLC and eat food of the gods at cafe trio and view the disney castle wannabe that is the LDS temple. basically we made an evening out of being awesome, unfortunately losing an hour of sleep to fascism, or so i am told. boo to less sleep.

monday was our official SNOW DAY for which we headed to the canyons (jon and kate plus four times two) where we hit the fresh pow to celebrate the elevated desert craziness that is utah snow. will met up with us and we rocked it hard... or hit it hard... or fell down hard. to each their own embodiment of hard, to be relieved by advil or alcohol. also your choice. we closed the mountain and headed home, where we paid homage to mr. michael cera with a double feature viewing - nick and norahs infinite playlist followed shortly by superbad. msnbc monopolized post cera celebration.

tuesday sucks too much to write about right now. it involved the following elements:
waking up early
driving to an airport
saying goodbye to lovely faces
driving home sleepy
getting stuck in traffic
getting home late
showering all too quickly
driving to work
working
and thinking about lovely faces.

so ive been thinking about getting an mfa in interdisciplinary arts

i already forget what it was like to learn -
reading books as a chore. no, not this time, its for fun...huh?
how about we keep going to school to learn
and then maybe by the time were done with learning
people will want to hire us.

in the mean time
keep making it up as i go along in lieu of checking my schedule.
(why do i still keep a daily planner? lets scribble in commitments after the fact.)

"I just gave up** a while ago, I think it was while I was living in BK. I think," he said to me the other day.

**"Giving up" in the living in the day to day sort of way, not in the lets develop a drug habit and drop off the face of the planet sort of way...

and even though i try to live day to day sort of way
i find that i cannot remember what i wore five days ago.
i cannot remember where i was more than four consecutive fourth of july's ago.
i know that i will probably eat something tonight
but it will be as insignificant as my best friend's HS prom dress, which, was purple and pretty.

some not great photos of one of the places I work...plus some of my work

Sorry these photos are blurry, the inane photographer in me wasnt trying so hard...
these are some photos of the shop where i work and some of the work that i show there, that hasnt sold yet.

enjoy.

the rest of the day was like a hallucination

reminded that i have visitors in only a few days, i sprang from my bed before 10am as fresh as a spring chicken and as lame as a stepford wife to begin to put our apartment back together...
quiet
quiet
quietly
drews still sleeping.

i proceeded to make myself some tea and started asking myself questions that i would then answer, such as:

would the vacuum wake him up?
yes.

should i vacuum anyway?
no. thats mean.

what do you want to eat?
toast, probably.

why does this toast taste so bad?
i dont know. you should probably throw it out.

this went on for a few hours intermittent with tiptoe cleaning until drew finally got up/i attacked his cocooned self.

HOWEVER, i finally collapsed the pullout bed/couch that we have had out since my sister's visit, did two loads of laundry and a dishwasher cycle, collected garbage, swept the floor, and cleaned the living room. woop woop normal apartment.

to catch those of you following the daily photo project up...
27 feb - diana - double exposure - interior/drew at turntable
28 feb - diana - triple exposure - at the gallery/Palumbo horse sculpture
1 mar - digital - fur shop shots (3)
2 mar - digital - fawn/jewelry display shots
3 mar - diana - low light shot from top of parking structure

digital photos to come.

im twenty-two and find myself still attracted to tie dye

About a week ago, i anticipated this crazy couple of days (in terms of scheduling). Ive been working both jobs back to back daily since my last day off (tues) and drew had to work an early morning shift take a couple hours off and then go back to trudge through the dreaded twilight hours shift (11pm-7am), back just in time to snuggle for a couple of hours before i had to go to work at 11am. this basically meant that drew and i would pass each other in bed about four times in a 24 hour period, and though we live together and hang all of the time, the past couple of days have seemed so hectic. honestly, i cant wait for march to come and go.

btw, happy march 1st...

though i intend to get in a couple of snowboarding days in before the season is over, the chances of snow are fewer and further between. cross your fingers, visitors. today is fourty fucking degrees, a disgusting trend that is only scheduled to worsen. its supposed to reach almost fifty degrees tomorrow with rain and a whole bunch of nasty to happen before a few snow showers that are scheduled towards the end of the week - something to look forward to in addition to the arrival of allison and kaytee, yay.

see the nasty for yourself

in the coffeeshop this morning, i over heard a conversation taking place between two women in fur coats (yes, this is a frequent sighting on main street where we have four fur shops maybe?)

"X" marks the fur spot

they were talking about how they felt really old seeing all of these young girls walking and working on main street. they wished for their figures back so that they could wear bellyshirts? (really, ladies, that is what you reckon your younger years for?) they were recalling how much fun they had in "the sixties" wearing tie dye. then came the remark that truly offended me (almost as much as the five-hundred dead rabbits or whatever corpseless furry friend they were donning),

"...but Lynn, you know those young girls that wear tie dye now-a-days?"

"yes..."

"they are so out of touch with the true meaning... they wear it and think, "look im a hippie!" its the tragic downfall of true tie dye wearing folks we used to hang around with."

"i agree, plus tie dye isnt fashionable anymore, so wearing it isn't making much more of a statement than "i'm immature"..."

HAHAHAHAHA. FUCKING FOR REAL? lets list the problems that i have with this exchange...

1. first off, youre wearing fur. and not just any fur, tacky molting fur. its ugly. and tasteless. wanna know why? cause youre wearing it from head to toe. its almost fifty fucking degrees out and you decided to put the entire band of dead woodland forest creatures on your fat saggy body. not only do you lose all fashion contests, you lose all of your rights to judge what people are wearing.
   
2. secondly, you speak of a "true meaning". if you were a philosopher in disguise maybe i would respect your use of this phrase, but frankly, your leathery skin juxtaposed next to little bunny foo foo distracts me too much to even begin to believe that you understood the true meaning of tie dye while you wore it.
   
3. thirdly, though dying cloth can be traced back to the egyptians... im sorry to burst your bubble but your tie dye also proclaimed, "look at me.... IM A DAMN HIPPIE." if im wrong, please let me know what "the folks you used to hang around with" were really thinking. it was a statement of individualism, radicalism, whatever. a generation that broke from the former... and frankly by the time you were wearing tie dye, it was probably in fashion magazines and on television and on every other self-proclaimed suburban hippie. i think its time to shake off the ahistorical nostalgia and give yourself a reality check. you werent revolutionary, you were pretty much the same as anyone who wears it today, if not more cliche.
4. Remember Lynn...your ugly coat has removed any right for you to use fashionable in a sentence.
5. Finally, since when has maturity been linked with fur... Let me rephrase that. I'm letting my prejudices get in the way. Since when has IMMATURITY been linked with tie-dye? I mean i am sure it is viewed that way by people who supported Vietnam, Eric Cartman, and the likes, but if you proudly wore it fourty years ago, when your boobs werent as saggy, then what suddenly makes it immature. Not that im the most mature twenty-two year old, but I like to think that when I wear tie-dye, I am not only harkening back to the Egyptians, but also recalling anything associated with anti-corporatism, celebrations of individualism, and absolutely as many cliche anti-warisms as possible.
   

Dear Lynn and friend,

please let me take you shopping, with your personal credit cards, of course. Let me show you the world of age appropriate, sustainable, non-fur clothing. Afterwards, we can go out to dinner, on you, of course, and we can talk about tie-dye because I was slightly confused and offended by your private conversation that you held right behind me. I think i can help change your mind about your choice of outerwear and if not, then, i will leave you alone. if you find this offer to "hang" a bit intrusive, arrogant, or unsolicited, i understand. i am pretty anti-fur and pro-tie-dye, so yeah. call me a product of liberalism or a tie-dye loving drain on society, but i pay my taxes and love my bunny so i have the same right to hate your fur and be offended by your comments as you would have the right to feel nostalgic about tie-dye belly shirts...if you hadnt decided to wear roger and the trix rabbit out for your main street stroll this morning.

Love, Monica

As a result of this encounter, today's daily photo is constituted of a series of shots of the fur shops on main street. LOVE IT.

"it was inevitable"

::imagining life without google image::
what a sad image searchless world we would be a part of.

yesterday marks day one of photo project.
because i know youre just itching to know how it went i will delay details and tell you a story

last night we lost our power in kimball junction due to a stinky power tower (dont ask me what it is exactly) on Parleys Summit that caught fire. i got a phone call from the power company to ask Summit County residents to reduce power usage due to this incident.

like the conscious citizen that I am, I disregarded the message and went on working fawn. the lights dimmed every so often, but nothing worthy of my or anyone else's concern on main street...

about two hours later i get a phone call from drew who apparently was sitting in our dark apartment, previously listening to a new record, running the dishwasher and a few other items dependent upon an electric current. thinking he finally blew a fuse, he peeked outside only to see that the lights were out in every window and on every street corner. even the outlet mall was sans-illumination; he commented on the prominence of headlights on confused drivers' cars. he was calling to see if we had power on main street. i put rocky mountain power's and his phone call together and filled him in... my poor lover aloof in shadow. how sad. end of story.

the photograph i decided to take was after we got home

by that time the power had been restored for a full 17 minutes.

reveling in its return, drew uncovered his turntable to replace the needle from where it had been prior to the blackout. i thought this was really humorous, considering the fact that in the car we were scheming as to what an electricity-less evening was going to come to.

the fact of the matter is that we are frighteningly reliant on electricity - taking it for granted with every switch that we fondle. on. off. the moment we are without we are confused, angry, bored, absent. time goes by so slowly because we have no way of recording it. "i should get candles for the gallery just in case it happens to effect main street..." my boss pondered today after i told her about last night.

yes...troubleshooting a blackout can be fun in certain instances, but as soon as the power returns, though it makes sense to conserve, we instead have an inclination to indulge as if to say, "its been so long since we've last rendevous'd" or as though you just moved back to NYC from Park City, UT and you ordered a whole 22" pizza that you intend to finish off all by yourself. its absurd, but it happens...

thus the inspiration and theme for this photo. i double exposed a pair of angles of drew at the turntable. i used my Diana F+ that i got for christmas. i was recently inspired to perfect double exposures and the diana is great for that. check out random google image search finds for examples of inspiration. mmm soft focus.

so thats that. i have yet to be inspired to take today's photograph, mainly because ive been so busy at work(s). speaking of which...

a photo a day keeps the doctor away

while recently fretting... i found two items that stood above the rest:
-the frustration with myself and my motivation (or lackthereof) to take photographs or be otherwise creative on a daily basis

and

-the probability of no health insurance for a while

I came up with a new personal saying to simultaneously clear away my uncreative cobwebs and comfort the prospects of ailing sans-coverage:

a photo a day keeps the doctor away

i figure that if i can convince myself that taking at least one photo a day - be it digital, well composed, entirely random, hasty, or medium format - will keep me in good health, I am not only providing myself with a preemptive, proactive, homemade remedy to ebb my concerns for my lack of health insurance, but am also resolving, or should i say reviving (to stay in line with the health theme), my stale artistic flame, and ultimately expanding my portfolio while out here adventuring in the middle of UT.

i have created a manifesto for this daily photo diary project in order to keep myself in line. if one is to be successful as an artist, there is a severe need for discipline, especially for someone so good at making up excuses and procrastinating as myself.

PHOTO DIARY PROJECT manifesto: b. 27-02-2009;
BASIC:
a) daily photo diary requires, but is not limited to, one photo a day.

b) in the event that it is decided that daily photo diary will include more than one photo in one twenty-four period the following sub-guidelines must be followed:

1. the photos taken must constitute "a series". With the understanding that i will uphold a loose definition of what constitutes a "series", the "series" must either be:
   

i) linked in some self-constructed way. i.e. theme, subject matter, etc.
ii) of the same subject using a variety of apertures and shutter speeds in order to determine best settings for specific conditions. in this case, it is imperative that the aperture and shutter speed be recorded.

b) daily photo diary must involve recording aperture and shutter speed, as well as any other ideas, concepts, techniques, etc. employed in photo-taking process, in a newly constructed/purchased daily photo log as best to my ability. if this is truly an attempt at self-instruction, there must be a means to improvement. log to be reviewed in a few months to see if there is some sort of "progress" in terms of my ability to read the conditions and achieve desired effect.

c) daily photo diary must consciously tackle at least two new themes a month. to be recorded in daily photo log. (i.e. if consciously recorded,"randomness" qualifies as a theme)

1. I must complete and successfully incorporate research of ANY TOPIC, SUBJECT, IDEA into these themes. Inspirations to be posted on blog as well as recorded in log.
   

d) daily photo diary must involve at least three different cameras a month in order to diversify abilities (and possibly develop an inclination towards one in particular?)

e) daily photo diary as a whole must attempt to capture something important or pivotal about the day. this will serve as a means to link entire project under one theme. record meaning in log.

f) daily photo diary must be reviewed in terms of my attempt at being "conceptual" at least once a week. in turn, i must complete one non-photo creative project a week that relates (somehow) to the photos taken over the past week. Complexity is entirely dependent on resources available.

DETAILS:
f) daily photo diary will end at an undetermined date. dependent upon "feeling of completion". definition of "feeling of completion" is totally personal and entirely subjective. (feel free to grab coffee and call on a willing friend to help figure/talk this one out.)

g) it is encouraged, but not required, to develop/upload daily photo diary photographs to blog to keep progress public. in this way i am more likely to stick with it cause im a tool.

h) it is encouraged, but not required, to "fiddle" with photographs. "Fiddling" includes, but is not limited to, the use of digital or manual manipulation.

i) it is encouraged, but not required, to develop film at least once a month, depending on availability of funds. Means to develop should try to support a private/local business or be done by myself at Kimball Art Center. Attempt at least two developing sessions while still in UT.

DISCLAIMER:
j) in the event that i am unable to take a photograph, for whatever reason, i must substitute with a suitable artistic venture - i.e. sketch, painting, poem, etc. Limit to four times a month.

LONGTERM GOALS:

1. stay healthy. no health insurance = no doctors.
2. feel more creative.
3. improve manual and digital photography skills.
4. expand portfolio.
5. ultimately aid in creation and expansion of personal website.

Okay so i know what you are thinking. She's moved to Utah and gone crazy. I assure you, though the romanticized crazy that I just finished reading about in Burrough's Running with Scissors is quite appealing in the "lets paint the kitchen bright red" sort of way (and not in the "Im hungry, make me a toothpaste sandwich, I am god" sort of way) I am not crazy, just kinda bored. Strike that, really bored. Stuck. A new fun job, with creative outlets, has helped me inch closer to "salvation" but I am not there yet. So i decided to do this.

If you walked into our apartment you would find that it is littered with painting supplies, about eight cameras (if not more), jewelry-making supplies, etc. There are about 10+ rolls of film in the fridge and 15+ tubes of paint in a box, just lying there... but I dont feel motivated, inspired. Atop this lack of inspiration, I no longer have classes, homework, or lots of people around all of the time to distract me or give me excuses for my lack of productivity. I work long hours most days, so theres that excuse, but I do have lots of down time where all i crave is un-sobriety, a few episodes of lost, or food...sometimes snow.

I have decided that is not healthy, not only for the potential I would like my "career" (whatever that word means) to possess, but also physically. This daily photo diary project is similar to this blog in that its another distraction and means of communication but its primarily a gutteral yelp from somewhere deep inside myself saying, "GET OUTSIDE MONICA! OR ELSE YOU WILL GET SICK AND YOU DONT HAVE HEALTH INSURANCE SO YOU SHOULD PROBABLY STAY WELL, FIT, ALERT! MAKE ART AND LIVE LONG!"

I have created a manifesto of sorts in a fashion truly compatible with that of Dmitri Martin or some other sick fiend obsessed or becoming obsessed with self-improvement, with challenging oneself. Coming up with this first version of the manifesto, I thought to myself, "what a good way to pass the time and simultaneously force myself to stick to something using guidelines I created, guidelines I am free to alter if they dont work out, guidelines that really arent guidelines at all." I figure that failure isnt only an un-option, its impossible because if i stick with it for only a month, or even a week, though it might be embarrassing...I can guarantee that I will have produced something worthwhile, something interesting, something worth laughing at. whatever.

that being said - the flexibility of the manifesto is contigent upon its most recent form. therefore i am not only accepting but encouraging your input. Revise, alter, add to the stipulations I have set for myself. Give me ridiculous independent daily goals. What do you think I can't do? What do you think of what Ive done? Make it harder for me, make it fun. Tell me that I need to include a bird in my next shot. Tell me i have to wear my camera all day and take a picture of the first person that talks to me about the camera. Tell me I have to take a picture with my eyes closed. I can make anything work and it will only be more interesting with more feedback. Inspire me. Critique every click of my shutter, every swatch of color, every brushstroke, every word. It is difficult to offend me.

OR > If you feel so inspired, join me! Adapt the manifesto, challenge yourself. take photos with me or change it so that you are breaking or making another habit for yourself. that way we can be ridiculous together, like people who try to lose weight together. only i will be healthier by means of ART.

On the subject of health, let me briefly justify the other half of this dual purpose mission. a photo a day WILL keep the doctor away. Im convinced. While the creation of art is therapeutic (even recognized by western medicine), I realize that it alone is not a proper substitute to health care. But what if it could be? Moreso, what if I could convince myself that by taking on this project I am making myself healthier and thus preventing future ailments. No health insurance? No worries. All falling-down-a-cliff, getting-impaled-by-a-javelin-thrown-by-a-crazed-olympian, freak accidents aside...I am attempting to knowingly convince myself that I will live longer if I do this. Perhaps?

who knows.
who cares?
because here it begins.
join,
scoff,
challenge,
laugh at/with,
or just watch me.

project commence.

jessie came and went

In a blur spanning four days or so, Jessie came to Utah. She left too soon.
It was fun to have a visitor.

She tried snowboarding and rocked it.
She came to work with me and worked retail for a couple of hours.
She came to work with me and sat bored to tears, a slow night at the gallery.
She came with many silly school assignments and left with less.
She tried on many denim jackets at the DI and it paid off.
She tried an antipasto appetizer and ate (most of) it.
She flew on a plane all by herself and survived to tell the tale.

Overall, it was a good, though all-too-brief, time together.

I cried when I left her at the airport because I started to think about how miss her all too often.

Countdown to arrival of next visitors: 10 days.

"New" Camera Digital and Valentines Day

Camera Test #1: Drew (self portrait with flower), Feb 2009

Hooray! Utah real-time photographs are now available through pcsnow.blogspot.com! Thanks to Miss. A. Luciano, I have a 7.1 megapixel Cannon Powershot SD500 to take photographs for my bloggy blog blog. Quite the photo-technical advancement considering my liking for the manual art. However, it should be made clear that the digital picture in my case serves only as a medium of communication, not a work of art. Frankly, this blog was not created to become revolutionary tool, as some blogs try to be or fear of becoming, instead this (now picture-friendly blog) is a means to let the people who know both about it (the blog) and me (mo Vee) know what is going on while I am adventuring in Utah.

Let us begin.

Above is the first picture taken while it was in our possession. In appropriate Valentine style, a undeniably awesome boyfriend Drew, wearing a tasteful amount of festive red, takes a self portrait holding a daisy that he purchased for me. He proceeded to take me out to a sushi dinner and bought me lovely things. Spoiled me for the evening, basically. While I am not one to demand spoiling, it was fun considering I had just finished a 11 hour work day. It was simultaneously lovely and delicious, a feast of raw fish that St. Valentine would be proud of. I got him a super awesome travel coffee mug complete with handle and cushy bottom. haha. cushy bottom.

Anyway, I think the photograph is worth sharing cause it allows me to flaunt my adorable boyfriend. hes mine and i love him and his tasteful amount of festive red. you wish you had a boyfriend that could achieve perfect tasteful amounts of festive colors. yay flaunting. haha. cushy bottom.

In other photographical adventure news, I took a few pictures on my way to work this morning to show you just how much snow we have. Enjoy. More to come, surely.

Camera Test #2: Running out the door, Feb 2009

Camera Test #3: Running out the door (thorugh a tunnel of snow), Feb 2009

Camera Test #4: Driving to work, Feb 2009

story: sixty injured horses

sixty injured horses came galloping down
towards the broken house, - black
shattered frames lay where the smart
sturdy once stood, quietly.

"I guess we will graze now," said Larkhorse
(he was silently appointed leader about five-hundred and thirty miles back)

And so they grazed, ashen blades.

It had burned through the foundation
thanks to a feverish fellow
forgetfully dozing without extinguishing.
A rancher once without bounds.
It is likely he is shackled to some hellfire resort.
It were the horses who were boundless now.

"This tastes sour," Gablehorse commented
cud spilling from his whisker face.
He was told to stop complaining
by the famished fifty-nine.

They grazed until they could graze no more,
not that there was much to begin with.
Sounding the signal of release the
sixty sped away, Larkhorse in the lead
while Gablehorse pulled up the rear.

Trails of their blood hidden amongst the
black. No green.
Trodden black remains smell of manure
and time lost.

Snot, Sweat, and Tears

Thursday makes Day 6.

...and it Sucked amidst improvements.

Today, Drew and I hit the slopes at a bit of a slow start this morning but I was totally Miss. Gung-ho... confident and ready to go... until I actually got off the lift and started snowboarding. For some reason, I wasn't feeling it.

I hit up High Meadows, the same slope I've been riding since Christmas, and fell twice amidst other crappy attempts at turning. "What is wrong with me?" I kept rolling over and over in my head.

After our "warm-up" run (a.k.a. psych yourself out run) Drew pulled me towards Saddleback, a blue square run. I could feel my heart pounding with fear as we went up
up
up
up

definitely higher than high meadows. Definitely. Blue squares are harder than green circles. Fucking shapes and colors.

I was scared like I was when I was five and I lost my mom at Disney World. I felt nauseous in the way a wide-eyed claustrophobic feels sick in a tight elevator. I was conciously taking count of my breath with hopes of distracting myself with numbers rather than destructive cyclical thoughts. I was scared and nervous about NOT knowing what was to come. To be honest, I probably would not have gotten on the lift had Drew not been there.

We did two runs, the second better than the first (isnt it always?), though it was steeper in certain sections than I could handle. I did a lot of sliding on heelside amidst a few turns on the flatter parts. "I'm going too FAST!" I would think to myself, cringing, and immediately revert back to the ow-my-calves-hurt heelside mode. The burn of working my calves is preferable to injury induced pain, so I kept on sliding.

We made it to the base of the run and I wanted to go home. I just wasnt feeling it. I wasnt performing like I wanted to and it was taking its toll on my confidence. Drew had to stop every few feet and I felt bad, knowing he just wanted to keep riding. I told him to go ahead but he swore he came here with me to ride with me. He tried to encourage me but it didnt make any difference. I didnt want to hear it. I felt bad but I really didnt want to go up again.

It was a weird mood to be in on such an ideal day. There was noone on the slopes really, and it was snowing, sorta. Visibility was prime and there were rather short lift lines. I dont know why it was such a big deal at the time, but I needed a few moments to regroup. I am glad Drew stuck around to pull me through my slump but I can say without an inkling of doubt that I was not the most fun person to be around for a while there. We ended up taking a trail down to the base of the mountain, in lieu of the gondola, which, admittedly, was nice, and called it a day. I guess you can't rock and feel awesome everyday you go out there, especially while youre still learning. practicing. whatever.

To add to the mess of foul emotions, I lost my phone somewhere on the mountain. I dont really care about the phone but about all of the number Ive lost with its disappearance. Its gonna take forever to get them all back. Sucky Sucky. Maybe someone will find it. Until then, its troubleshooting time...and time for work.

i.quit j.crew

it is official
i work at j.crew no longer.

i am assistant manager at fawn boutique!
hoorah!

Lincoln Turns

Day 4: Snowboarding doesn't hurt as much when you're LINCOLN turns!
[written and visual pun (thank you photoshop) intended.]

Yesterday was the first day it snowed since Sundance ravaged through Park City's streets. I like to think that it was mother nature saying "good riddance" - covering the ground with a blanket anew, filling the cinematically-inclined wanderer's tracks.

In honor of the much anticipated snowfall, Drew and I spent the day at The Canyons. He was able to find some beautiful powder fields far away from the run I consistently ride/tumble. He was happy. Then he spent some time with me, helping me to link turns, which towards the end, I was doing a bit more confidently. He relayed some advice he recieved from a Park City snowboarding instructor, "Pretend like you are driving a bus, with a big steering wheel." Making that motion or at least thinking about it makes you turn your body a bit more naturally, and before I reached the bottom of the hill I had linked a few hesitant turns. Whether it was because I was pretending to drive a bus or because I am finally getting the hang of it, I don't know. It's still really hard to do what I want to do, but I find myself improving everytime I go out there...

"Your instructor should have had you doing this day 1," Drew said after he applauded my progress with turning and stuff. Yeah...she probably should've, but she didn't. So day 4, I have begun to actually snowboard. Wahoo.

While Drew finished up his last run or so, I made my way down the gondolas to Betty. With the extra hour or so I made a few phone calls, then drove to the liquor store and picked up a tasty selection of West Coast beers for the drinkin'. I then picked Drew up and we headed home to our fabulous apartment complex's outdoor jacuzzi to soak our tired muscles. After wading in the luke-warm tub under a banner of snowflakes, I made some Boca burgers for dinner complete with Lost, Jeopardy, and Rachel Maddow.

A lovely day off.

In other more career motivated news, I am in the running for an assistant manager job at the artist driven boutique/yarn shop called Fawn located just a few doors down from my gallery on Main Street. Drew came across the listing on craigslist and passed it on to me last week. Upon this news, I printed out my resume, I walked into the shop, handed it alongside an ingenious cover letter to one of the owners, and exchanged a few words with one of the owners. Overwhelmed by the fact that I could both speak english and knit, she said, "Oh you're good. This is good." First positive exchange.

I called the other owner today to schedule an interview and she said that the other owner had told her that a good candidate had stopped by the other day and she presumed it to be me. The phonecall went well; I told her that I was truly interested in the position and she said that was good because she was truly interested in meeting with me in person. Wahoo, second positive exchange.

I am to meet with her in the coming days. Though, not before I brush up on my knitting termz, as my most recent yarn endeavours have been with the crochet hook. I think I know enough to do what they want me to do...however, it seemed as though I might be tested at my interview, so a quick glance at knitty.com or knittinghelp.com can't hurt. I also mentioned my background in art and my recent craft-fair adventures, so that was good too. She said that I will be given total creative freedom at the shop, if hired, so a background in art also scores some points.

I am willing to quit J.Crew and work for this place if they can keep me (and pay me well) through the off-season. Again...we will see. Update shortly.

Finally, without seeking pity, I would like to note that I was recently sucked into a state of mucus filled incoherency, suffering fits of uncontrollable coughing, and feverishly couch-ridden by a nasty cold bug. Wednesday morning it befell me and lasted through the weekend with only scattered symptoms lingering today. Though I would probably be advised to knock on wood, I am feeling better and hope to be symptom free ASAP. As both of my current jobs require me to interact closely with customers, there are certain aspects of being sick that tend to turn people away... as you might imagine yourself slowly backing away from a J.Crew saleswoman with blooshot eyes and a red nose coughing uncontrollably into her sleeve. I know I would've walked the opposite direction of myself. I end this post with a genuine compliment to Drew and his nurse-skillz. Zonked on Friday night, I was welcomed back to this realm of consciousness by certain lovable boyfriend named Drew coming home from work with pockets full of remedies - Sucrets and the key ingredient for his family's hot tottie recipe - Bourbon. He catered the evening around Miss Sicky - so instead of trying to catch a Sundance film he really wanted to see, we watched WALL-E and ate soup. This is why I love him.