Pretty sure I would have Died.

So I'm a huge wimp when it comes to the cold. I literally start to shiver when it hits 50 degrees.

And its currently a whopping 0 degrees outside.

I just got home from campus after dropping off a take-home final for my Humanities of Asia class, and on the way, I was considering the numbness of my toes and face and thinking about how miserable this icky weather is. Believe me, I had on plenty of layers, but my poor face and toes just had to take it.

While ruminating on my poor freezing cold condition, I started to think about the pioneers. Thousands of people crossed the plains through the snow, and sometimes they had nothing to cover their feet. They had to carry all their belongings on aching shoulders while trying to keep their stiffening muscles working. They even had to cross ice-covered rivers, literally freezing once exiting the water. Sometimes children went to sleep only to have the frigid cold slow their hearts until they stopped, never to wake again.

The victims of WWII death marches (mostly occurring between Fall and Spring) had to walk on weary, starving limbs for days, waiting to reach an unknown future that usually only promised more suffering.

Walking home today, thinking about my cold feet and face, my first thought was, "Man, I would have been a sucky pioneer!" But really, it's hard for me to fathom how any of these people were able to survive. I complain when my face is cold, but at least the rest of me is kept fairly warm. At least my walk is only a mile or two and I know I am close to my safe, warm destination.

I really think I would have died if I had tried to cross the plains with the pioneers. I don't know if I would have had the courage to keep marching if I had been a victim of the Holocaust. I even thought about the Titanic last night when I drove home from work while I shivered uncontrollably waiting for the heat to kick in. I was SO COLD but I wasn't drowning in a partially frozen ocean. I can't imagine how painful all of these things must have been, but mostly I can't imagine the strength it would have taken to overcome these trials.

Don't get me wrong, I will probably still complain about the cold every day until April, but behind that will be thoughts of gratitude for what I have. I didn't intend this post to be so serious... but whatever.

God is Awake

I stole this from a friend's blog, but I really liked it so I'm passing it along.

"Have courage for the great sorrows of life and patience for the small ones; and when you have laboriously accomplished your daily task, go to sleep in peace. God is awake."
Victor Hugo(1802-1885)

It's been a while.

I know, I know. But I have a good excuse, and its called School.

School and work dominate my life. Mostly school though.

BUT even though I have a crapload of papers and homework to do for the remaining 4 weeks of the semester (it's gone so fast!) I'm not as stressed out as I probably should be. Don't get me wrong, I am a little stressed, but I can't help but feel excited about this semester coming to a close and my LAST semester starting in January. Remember how excited I was when I wrote this post? It hasn't worn off a bit!! I'm surprised I haven't started counting down the days. It's the thought that I'm almost done that is getting me through this ridiculously busy semester. 18 credits is way too much with a 30 hour work week on top, and I would never recommend it to anyone. UNLESS it means you get to graduate!

What I've done so far this semester:

7 Italian Renaissance "rush-write" responses
5 Italian Renaissance one-page papers
1 seven-page Northern Renaissance paper
1 five-page Northern Renaissance midterm paper
1 exhibition design
1 exhibition critique
4 Spanish tests
2 Spanish papers
1 Spanish presentation
3 two-page American Art reading responses
1 American Art midterm
2 Humanities of Asia tests
AND a partridge in a pear tree.

I have a lot left, but its less than what I've already done, so I think I'm going to live. (Wardies, this is why I haven't been very social! My sincerest apologies.)

In the spirit of Thanksgiving, I'm grateful for all this crazy work so that I can be done with my undergrad in April. And I'm thankful for an understanding husband who doesn't get upset at the mountain of dishes in the sink and the laundry-covered couch because he understands how busy I am and is right there with me!

PDA - Cut it out!

So I'm peacefully sitting at a little desk on campus reading for my classes and taking notes when some annoying little smoochy couple decides that the space right in front of me between said desk and window would be a great place to cuddle up and start a makeout session.

GET A FREAKIN' ROOM! Not only have you now blocked my nice view out the window, but can't you see I'm trying to study!? Your impatience to get a little "somethin somethin" and lack of finding someplace private has ousted me from my peaceful little study desk and now I'm not doing anything productive. I saw a ring on her finger, can't you wait for the wedding night? Seriously, nobody wants to see that. I guarantee nobody else will be occupying that nice little desk while it has a front-row view of THAT performance.

Ugh. Gag me with a spoon.



In other news, I did not get first place in the essay contest, and bitterly lost to an English major (pfft, what's that about?) but I get to pick out a nifty print to hang on my wall, and she doesn't. Ha! I'm kinda glad I didn't get first, because we need some art in our house and I never use my two iPods that I already have anyway.

School is getting busier. The semester is halfway over which happened in the blink of an eye, and thinking about how fast its gone really makes me excited for next semester to just start already, cause I want to finish! Thinking about how many projects and papers I have between now and December 10th is a little intimidating, but I think most of them are spaced enough that I'll be able to handle it. I hope.

Work is work; Myrl is old, Heidi is still deaf, Andy got fired, Jon quit. That's about it in a nutshell.

Today is a Good Day.

I'm in a great mood today!

[Interesting cause yesterday I was really grumpy]

But anyway, here's why.

First of all, yesterday I did a really good job on my Spanish test. It's "Civilization and Culture of Spain," so I'm not just learning grammar anymore. I have to use it to learn all about Spain since before the U.S. even existed. Considering that I'm not even very good at American history (and that's in English), this is not my easiest class. It's actually my shortest class (50 minutes compared to 75 for every other one) and it takes the lonnnngest. It takes me forever to get through a chapter if I actually make the effort to understand it, but I forced myself to do a good job for this test, and I'm pretty sure I aced it! I wont get my grade for a few more days, but I only skipped one 2-point question, and I felt really good about all the others. Yay. :) Now I just need to buckle down for the next section...

Second, as of last night I gave up on winning anything for the Victorian art essay contest that I entered, because I was told that we would be informed about that sometime before the award ceremony, which is tomorrow. Since I hadn't gotten any email as of last night, and new the ceremony was soon, I was a little bummed to know that out of only 23 entries, I wasn't even in the top ten! :( I finally stopped hoping that there would be any good news, and when I checked my email this morning, here's what I found:

Congratulations,
You finished in the top ten of the MOA’s Victorian art essay contest. We will be awarding prizes for the top entries on Thursday at 7 p.m. In the Museum of Art Auditorium on the museum’s lower level. We would love to have you there to accept your prize – a certificate that you can redeem for an unframed 21 inch Giclee print from the Museum Store. Thank you so much for your participation in this contest. More than anything, we hope you had a meaningful experience with the Royal Holloway exhibition and the painting you wrote about in particular.

YAY! I've never "placed" in any sort of writing competition before, so I'm happy, and super excited for my free print! 21 inches is pretty dang good, and an $89 value to boot! Definitely couldn't get a print out of pocket for that much, that's for sure. Tomorrow I get to find out where I placed, and I'm going to be very impatient until then. [I'm pretty sure it wont be the iPod-winning first place, but that's ok]

THEN, today after class I got to talk to my mom who had great news- She got a job! If you've kept up with my past posts you know that my parents have both been out of work for a while, so this is very exciting! She will be team teaching a 3rd or 4th grade class of "speakers of English as a second language" or however you say it "politically-correctly" now. I'm happy for her, because she is a fantastic teacher and those kids are super lucky!

Also, I'm feelin' good because I finally figured out a thesis for a paper I have to write for my Northern Renaissance class. ahhh, sigh of relief! I wanted to do something interesting because for my actual thesis (to be written and presented in front of way too many people next semester) we have to expand on a previously written paper and I don't like any of my old ones. It's been frustrating because it seems like every idea I come up with has already been done. Since the first version is due in 2 weeks and I still didn't even have a topic, I was beginning to despair!

But then I came across the painting Death and the Maiden by Hans Baldung Grien and I had it! [Get ready for some Art historian-ness] In the early Renaissance (and kind of always), people were way into images of Christ, Mary, etc. Christ is often shown with all his wounds, from the nail marks in his hands and feet to the gash in his side [and often they are even spouting blood in a lovely, unrealistic arcing stream]. Something else typical of Christ is that his right hand is often shown in a sign of blessing with two fingers held up like this. So what I want to know, is why does Death sport these same symbols in this painting??

Observe. Death is making the blessing symbol with his right hand (same as Christ), there's a gash on his right side (also the same for Christ) where his icky skin decays, and (its hard to see in this pic but I promise its there) he has a hole in his other palm! How weird is that? So, now my job, in about 8-10 pages, is to talk about why the artist did this, because there is no way it was coincidental... And the more I think about it all, the more it seems so obvious! But I will resist going on an art history rampage on my blog, because I know that might not be very interesting to everyone. Let me know if you want to read my paper when its done. ;)

Well, there's a quick glimpse into my life at the moment, hopefully all these good things last and I can actually get my paper done!



Now if only that blasted fly that's been buzzing around here would just GET OUT! yargh!

Molly Case

Last Sunday night, a girl named Molly Case was killed in a tragic gun accident in Springville, Utah.

Molly worked in the bakery at my grocery store.

When you watch the news and hear of these things it doesn't really feel important or like it matters, because its never anything that involves you. This one hit a little too close to home.

When I first heard, I held everything in, left school early, and just took a two hour nap to avoid thinking at all. I thought I was better when I woke up. I tried not to think about it.

But then I talked to one of my friends who also works in the bakery and knew Molly a lot better than I did, and I couldn't avoid it anymore.

We were sad together, and we remembered Molly and how sweet and kind she always was to everyone. We talked about her husband Rich, and how sad we were for him, and how the bakery was going to be quite gloomy for a while. After talking to her, I couldn't hold back anymore.

Nate was at work, so I called my mom and broke down crying.

I cried for Molly's family and friends, but mostly for her poor young husband. I also cried because of the realization of the reality of death.

The suddenness of the accident is a reminder that anything can happen, and we don't know what lies in our future. I know people always say these things when there has been a death, but its because they are true. I don't know if one day Nate will get hurt and not come home to me. I don't know how much time I'll get to have with him in this life. I don't know when I will die. Anything can happen, so I want to make sure to do my best to cherish every minute I have with my loved ones, so I wont feel regret when/if something ever does happen.

I hope I can live the way Molly and Rich did, always happy and loving every minute they had together. I don't really know her husband, but whenever I saw them you could see that they adored each other, and they never took each other for granted.

Molly is in a better place, and I believe she was taken because Heavenly Father has something else for her to do right now on the other side, and I know that she will be there waiting for Rich when its his time too. Families can be together after death, and this is something I know and cherish with all my heart.

Poverty: Yesterday and Today

The Museum of Art here at BYU is holding an essay contest, and since there's a chance to win an iPod touch AND my teacher counted it for his class, I decided to do it. Now I think I will share.

Here is the prompt:
"The Museum of Art is hosting a writing contest that requires students to compare the issues presented on canvas by Victorian artists to the contemporary issues that they read about in the newspaper, see on television, or study in their classes. After viewing the collection, students will pick one artwork from a group of preselected works that they feel best explains how the issue presented is also reflected in contemporary society. The student will then write a brief essay (400-800 words) that describes how the Victorian artwork helped them understand a contemporary issue and how that issue affects them."

Here is the painting:


And here's what I said:

Most of the social issues that we hear about today on the news or in the newspaper are things that have existed for many years. By simply watching the news for five minutes one will undoubtedly come across such issues as immigration, healthcare, poverty, and war. These and others were just as prevalent in years past as they are today, though they may have been portrayed in different ways, such as through art.

In 1874 when Sir Luke Fildes painted his Applicants for Admission to a Casual Ward, newspapers were a common form of discussing social issues. Whether to express peoples’ discontent with various items of interest or just to create awareness, they were the way of sharing opinions and bringing others to an understanding of what was happening in the world. This is why Fildes was met with some resistance and disdain when he used his talent of painting to depict a scene of poverty, which was a major problem at the time. People were not used to seeing such blatantly realistic and “undesirable” images, especially in paint. Painting was an art reserved for things of beauty to be displayed in galleries and the homes of the wealthy. Fildes knew that using a refined medium to depict this subject would certainly catch peoples’ attention and convey a clear message.

That message was not just that poverty existed. It did, and this was a powerful reminder of that fact, but Fildes was really saying something much more poignant. A quick glance over the painting and anyone can see a crowd of people huddled together against the winter cold, waiting in line in a dark alley. From the title we can understand that they wait with the hope of one night’s warm sleep in a bed at a public ward. However it is only when looking more closely at the details of the painting that Fildes’s deeper meaning is revealed. While many of the figures blend into the cold dark background, certain ones stand out. A small, decently dressed family on the right draws the eye of the viewer because these particular figures have been painted in more luminous colors. To the left, a widow with two small children stands in the foreground, and immediately to their left an older, distinguished-looking fellow seeks advice from a police officer. The reason Fildes highlights these specific characters is to remind everyone that poverty is not something that only affects the lower working class. Once-happy families with children are not necessarily immune. Widows are not immune. Even distinguished gentlemen who once dressed in expensive clothes and mingled with aristocrats are not immune. Neither are the young nor the elderly.

Even today we tend to think that we are exempt from the problems of society that we hear about on a daily basis, but Fildes wanted everyone to be aware of the fickleness and uncertainty of life. We may be in high standing at one point or living happily with our young family, but problems that lead to poverty can and usually are unexpected.

This painting affects me in a variety of ways. First, it reminds me that poverty is very real. At the grocery store where I work, I daily see people scrounging for dimes and nickels to buy any tiny bit of food they can get, and sometimes there still is not enough. Even here in Happy Valley, people beg for money or food. People sleep on the streets. Children starve. We generally think of ourselves as safe from these possibilities, but even my own parents recently lost their jobs with the decline of the economy. To me this reinforces what Fildes was trying to say. We never think these things will have a direct affect on us, but they can.

Second, I am reminded of how blessed I really am. Yes, things are a little stressful at times, but our family still has all the basic things we need. I am still able to go to school and receive an education. I have food, clothes, and a place to live. Here at school we tend to call ourselves “starving students,” but none of us has to wait in line every night in order to sleep with a roof over our heads. The reality that Fildes successfully portrayed in his painting remains true today: while many of us might be on a tight budget, there are always other people who have less. Poverty is a very real creature, and we need to be aware and ready for those moments that we do not foresee.