This is a Tribute

To Simini.

"Did you know that you can play darts with thumbtacks? Yes, yes you can." Ack I miss you!

Studio 111

Oh the Cocherans! I love these people! They are funky artist friends of my family back home. They do a little of everything, and it is fun stuff, let me tell you. Their home is unreal, and walking through it an experience akin to passing through an incredible gallery of neo-groovy awesomeness. Nina made me a "Pat the Bunny" (well actually, "Pet the Puppy" but that's neither here nor there) retro notebook to console me for the removal of my wisdom teeth. Is that friendship or what?!?

Their greatest creations are their children, though. Their youngest daughter does karaoke like you wouldn't believe. So check out their site, give them some love, and appreciate the greatness.

Incidentally, here is a video their eldest son, my sister's greatest friend, put together. Of himself. Cleaning his room. Yes, I know it's cool.

Jesus Christ, The Son of God

Ben wrote on his blog about the Church's newest site, Jesus Christ, The Son of God, and I have really enjoyed looking through it. I'll admit I haven't perused it thoroughly yet, but the site design is beautiful and I know the content is bound to be good. Very appropriate timing, with the latest issue of the Ensign/Liahona, which reflects this focus on Christ. I feel the time must be fast-approaching that the world realizes that Latter-day Saints are in fact Christians. He lives!

Cynefin

I finished another book. After The Book Thief, it's hard to read any other piece of WWII lit. Talking with one of my professors before dinner tonight, he suggested that Markus Zusak perhaps wasn't the most exceptional writer (I'd agree; he abandoned the intensity of the whole color device pretty early on in the book, and it just wasn't the highest writing I've ever seen), but he was a superb storyteller. I agree wholeheartedly. I became wonderfully attached to the characters, who on paper are quite unremarkable, and are fascinatingly ambiguous, just as we all are. The Welsh Girl did not grip me like The Book Thief did.

But The Welsh Girl is intriguing in its own right. My favorite aspect of the novel was not the plot or even the characters, but the symbol of the sheep herds so vital to life in Esther's small village. Davies paints a world in which herders are tied to the flocks, and flocks are in turn tied to their land, unable to stay on strange land for long. This idea of attachment to a plot of land is called cynefin. Even more interesting to me is the necessity of the female animals to sustain the flock. After they do their duty to the flock, mature males are sent to town for sale for meat. The females, however, are the lifeblood of the flock. Esther wonders why the German refers to is native country as the "fatherland"; in her experience, the only appropriate term for that feeling of obligation to country is "motherland." Interesting.

Gotta love some matriarchal discussion.

The Dance

In museums, it is obvious to me those patrons who are seasoned veterans and those who are ignorant novices of observing displayed art. For those who are more experienced, a general awareness exists of the dance, upon which enjoying a museum critically hangs. I would like to offer up, by way of illustration, my experience in the City Art Centre in Edinburgh this past weekend.

In the City Art Centre, 150 originals by renowned American photographer Ansel Adams were on display over three floors. The exhibit wasn't very crowded at all, and judging by the adherence to the rules of the dance by the vast majority of all patrons in the museum, I'm confident that my friends and I were among dedicated art buffs.

Here's how the dance works: two patrons stand side by side in front of one piece of art. In a nook, one patron has been moving counterclockwise through the display. The second patron, to avoid hurrying the first, has chosen to start at the opposite end of the display and move clockwise. Inevitably, the two merge at one piece. Both people look at the item for a while; finally, when someone is ready to move on, he or she steps backward, and moves around the second patron. The second patron then shifts the opposite direction, thus making room for the first to take a last goodbye before moving on to the next piece. The transition, if executed well, is seamless and comfortable. Ah, the dance.

Well, this wasn't as great a post as I had in my mind. The exhibit was fantastic. I'm glad Abbie decided to go up, because I wasn't totally thrilled about paying £2.50 to get in, but it was worth it. Surprisingly, though I am not from California, Adams' few shots of Utah made me so incredibly homesick. I especially liked this shot of the Manti temple.