some of you may sit there, staring at your google reader, marveling at the enormous amount of posting I've taken part in during the past week or so.
The answer?
Cameron is out of town.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
favorite instance of the saying.
Drew posted a fabulous photo of himself in front of an underwear photo of David Beckham.
I do believe it is a Christmas miracle.
Drew said it better.
It's a Festivus miracle.
I do believe it is a Christmas miracle.
Drew said it better.
It's a Festivus miracle.
an ode.
Ode to the Audi. Ode to the car that is serving me so well. Ode to the car that got me to and from Ogden safely during the great blizzard of December 22. Ode to the car that drives better through the snow than my brother's SUV.
In this case, "ode" could be slightly synonymous with "brag", but forgive me. I am quite proud of my little sedan's capabilities. It has all-wheel drive and these tires that cut through the snow. Naturally said brother had some fun when driving my car up his steep, icy, snow-packed driveway on Christmas day. Pulling a Starsky and Hutch, the car swerved, skidded, jumped, caught air, and landed in a snow bank. But the faithful car resisted.
Until last night.
A metal piece, unable to resist the intensely packed snow pounded into it, dislodged itself from the bottom of my car. Halfway from Salt Lake City to Provo, a woman made me pull over and said, "Thought you'd like to know that something is scraping the road and is sparking." I drove home in fear of my car blowing up (yeah, yeah, yeah, I know nothing about cars, give me a break), stocked up on food at the grocery store, and prepared for a potential few days spent transportation-less.
Well, dear car, I love you so. You are now sitting in a parking lot, waiting to be fixed, and I will miss you so. Until Monday, or Tuesday, or maybe even Wednesday, when we can meet again.
UUUUGGGHHHHHHHHH.
In this case, "ode" could be slightly synonymous with "brag", but forgive me. I am quite proud of my little sedan's capabilities. It has all-wheel drive and these tires that cut through the snow. Naturally said brother had some fun when driving my car up his steep, icy, snow-packed driveway on Christmas day. Pulling a Starsky and Hutch, the car swerved, skidded, jumped, caught air, and landed in a snow bank. But the faithful car resisted.
Until last night.
A metal piece, unable to resist the intensely packed snow pounded into it, dislodged itself from the bottom of my car. Halfway from Salt Lake City to Provo, a woman made me pull over and said, "Thought you'd like to know that something is scraping the road and is sparking." I drove home in fear of my car blowing up (yeah, yeah, yeah, I know nothing about cars, give me a break), stocked up on food at the grocery store, and prepared for a potential few days spent transportation-less.
Well, dear car, I love you so. You are now sitting in a parking lot, waiting to be fixed, and I will miss you so. Until Monday, or Tuesday, or maybe even Wednesday, when we can meet again.
UUUUGGGHHHHHHHHH.
Friday, December 26, 2008
commentary on the carol.
and why, to me, it is Christmas.
*note: this analysis, while not written in full, was in my brain long before I even viewed the video, in other words, the images therein weren't the primary influence. the music was.*
The harmony utilizes an exquisite balance of major and minor chords, the dynamics emphasize the awe we must feel, and yet the repetitive nature supports the simplicity of this event--in its simplest form it is a birth of a child, something that happens every day. The wind instruments are pure in tone and color and in their ease they begin and end this piece; the path to happiness is quite simple and pure, really. When we learn complicated lessons in their most basic components, then we can truly implement them, not only with greater ability, but with truer understanding. It isn't until the bridge that this piece takes full form, manifested first through the strings, and then the a cappella in the choir, and finally, fully realized in a grand choral section accompanied by a strong orchestra.
The beauty and brilliance of this piece is truly held within the orchestra. Voices can sometimes be a bit shrill (as most Sopranos are), but steady strings and calm winds command this piece through their augmented and dominant seventh chords. As much of Rachmaninoff's works did, the piece contains Arabic influence, mysterious and highly introspective. The chord progressions, when combined with the midnight influence of a desert lend to intense nostalgia, significantly supported by a lyric that looks inward while trying to reconcile a debt that will not be repaid in full. The piece is a steady journey, but the minor effects are a bit frustrated. It wants to end calmly but is consistently stuck, again, in accord with the lyric. Finally, the orchestra is able to bring it full circle, the winds taking over and acknowledging that while all earthly things are imperfect, there is still peace to be found in the beautiful gifts we have been given.
Yes, I am a Humanities major (albeit an imperfect one). The point is to discover what is important to the composer, the performers, and then take it a step further and analyze what they might not have immediately known as important (something I will be working on for the rest of my life). Certain things resonate over time, music, perhaps more than any other art form, grows more influential with age. It's so wonderful to sit and listen (or read, or gaze intently at, or watch...etc) to amazing works and discover why they matter. What they mean. What they teach. And finally, how they change us. I get to do this kind of thing every day...wonderful isn't it?
So why does all of this matter? What does this mean? What does this teach? In analyzing the technical components of the piece, namely how it is constructed, we can discover the full importance of the emotional impact. The ultimate goal of a composer is to reach his audience and while some will be so struck by phenomenal technical achievement, the lasting impression is reached through the intangible pull of the heart and soul. Each step is vital. In good music, each note has purpose, each beat conveys an emotion, and each key resonates in different ways. This is why music is so fun to analyze. We can't understand why a minor key or chord (or in a more colloquial form, sad notes) is felt so deeply, there isn't an exact scientific formula (although, I'm sure it's been studied). It just IS. It exists. And it is possibly the most powerful device, next to dynamic, that a composer has in creating something that MATTERS.
While I am not the composer of this piece, it matters to me because the tiny components within the life of Christ seem so basic and yet every act transcends our understanding and ability. There is no possible way that we, as imperfect human beings, can give a gift that matches that of the Atonement. All we can do is give those intangible "its"--our heart, our devotion, our faith, our trust, our love. It's a very introspective idea, and deeply personal. In some respect, this song feels like it must be an Easter piece, just as it is a Christmas carol. There are few religious pieces that capture the frustration that mankind has in reconciling the Atonement, and there are even fewer that achieve it as purely as this. You don't have to understand the musical components to know that it is a bittersweet event.
All complicated analyzations, all intricate musical elements aside, at the end of the day, it does what the best music must--it makes you feel something. It changes your soul, not your intellect. Your heart understands because the music reaches all the way in there, grabs a-hold of it, shakes it around for 4 minutes, and then finally says, "see! It hurts, it's hard, it takes time, and it's frustrating...but isn't it so beautiful?"
Like I said, isn't is so wonderful to be a Humanities major?
In short, this piece is freaking gorgeous and makes my heart hurt and my soul cry. What can I say, I'm a sucker for a great minor chord progression.
*note: this analysis, while not written in full, was in my brain long before I even viewed the video, in other words, the images therein weren't the primary influence. the music was.*
The harmony utilizes an exquisite balance of major and minor chords, the dynamics emphasize the awe we must feel, and yet the repetitive nature supports the simplicity of this event--in its simplest form it is a birth of a child, something that happens every day. The wind instruments are pure in tone and color and in their ease they begin and end this piece; the path to happiness is quite simple and pure, really. When we learn complicated lessons in their most basic components, then we can truly implement them, not only with greater ability, but with truer understanding. It isn't until the bridge that this piece takes full form, manifested first through the strings, and then the a cappella in the choir, and finally, fully realized in a grand choral section accompanied by a strong orchestra.
The beauty and brilliance of this piece is truly held within the orchestra. Voices can sometimes be a bit shrill (as most Sopranos are), but steady strings and calm winds command this piece through their augmented and dominant seventh chords. As much of Rachmaninoff's works did, the piece contains Arabic influence, mysterious and highly introspective. The chord progressions, when combined with the midnight influence of a desert lend to intense nostalgia, significantly supported by a lyric that looks inward while trying to reconcile a debt that will not be repaid in full. The piece is a steady journey, but the minor effects are a bit frustrated. It wants to end calmly but is consistently stuck, again, in accord with the lyric. Finally, the orchestra is able to bring it full circle, the winds taking over and acknowledging that while all earthly things are imperfect, there is still peace to be found in the beautiful gifts we have been given.
Yes, I am a Humanities major (albeit an imperfect one). The point is to discover what is important to the composer, the performers, and then take it a step further and analyze what they might not have immediately known as important (something I will be working on for the rest of my life). Certain things resonate over time, music, perhaps more than any other art form, grows more influential with age. It's so wonderful to sit and listen (or read, or gaze intently at, or watch...etc) to amazing works and discover why they matter. What they mean. What they teach. And finally, how they change us. I get to do this kind of thing every day...wonderful isn't it?
So why does all of this matter? What does this mean? What does this teach? In analyzing the technical components of the piece, namely how it is constructed, we can discover the full importance of the emotional impact. The ultimate goal of a composer is to reach his audience and while some will be so struck by phenomenal technical achievement, the lasting impression is reached through the intangible pull of the heart and soul. Each step is vital. In good music, each note has purpose, each beat conveys an emotion, and each key resonates in different ways. This is why music is so fun to analyze. We can't understand why a minor key or chord (or in a more colloquial form, sad notes) is felt so deeply, there isn't an exact scientific formula (although, I'm sure it's been studied). It just IS. It exists. And it is possibly the most powerful device, next to dynamic, that a composer has in creating something that MATTERS.
While I am not the composer of this piece, it matters to me because the tiny components within the life of Christ seem so basic and yet every act transcends our understanding and ability. There is no possible way that we, as imperfect human beings, can give a gift that matches that of the Atonement. All we can do is give those intangible "its"--our heart, our devotion, our faith, our trust, our love. It's a very introspective idea, and deeply personal. In some respect, this song feels like it must be an Easter piece, just as it is a Christmas carol. There are few religious pieces that capture the frustration that mankind has in reconciling the Atonement, and there are even fewer that achieve it as purely as this. You don't have to understand the musical components to know that it is a bittersweet event.
All complicated analyzations, all intricate musical elements aside, at the end of the day, it does what the best music must--it makes you feel something. It changes your soul, not your intellect. Your heart understands because the music reaches all the way in there, grabs a-hold of it, shakes it around for 4 minutes, and then finally says, "see! It hurts, it's hard, it takes time, and it's frustrating...but isn't it so beautiful?"
Like I said, isn't is so wonderful to be a Humanities major?
In short, this piece is freaking gorgeous and makes my heart hurt and my soul cry. What can I say, I'm a sucker for a great minor chord progression.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
this is Christmas
what shall we give to the lamb who was offered, rising the third day and shedding His love? Tears for His mercy we'll weep at the manger; bathing the infant come down from above
my favorite carol.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
the fiercest threesome.
One lives in New York and dances professionally. One lives in Ecuador and brings souls unto the Lord. And one lives in Utah, stuck in school all day long.
Whitney is still being an amazing missionary, but today brought about the beloved reunion of Jen and Natalie and oh, how sweet it was!
[look how light/short my hair was! so long ago.]
I love this girl with all my heart!
There is indeed only one Natalie Wakefield.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
The saying of the season.
The last two weeks have been filled with the most random occurrences of the saying, "It's a Christmas miracle!"
For example: "The dog didn't mess in his bed while we were gone for 4 hours. It's a Christmas miracle!"
Another example: I only slept a grand total of 10 hours last week, and yet I didn't get sick...it's a Christmas miracle!"
Use it along the lines of "that's what she said," and see what happens.
For example: "The dog didn't mess in his bed while we were gone for 4 hours. It's a Christmas miracle!"
Another example: I only slept a grand total of 10 hours last week, and yet I didn't get sick...it's a Christmas miracle!"
Use it along the lines of "that's what she said," and see what happens.
Friday, December 19, 2008
Wow.
66 hits today, alone? Amazing. I'm highly amused by the cell phone user who's connection appears to originate in Connecticut, Indiana.
Oh. And one of you is sending my link through facebook, as someone connected here straight from their inbox. Hmmmm....
Oh. And one of you is sending my link through facebook, as someone connected here straight from their inbox. Hmmmm....
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
peace.
Early Tuesday morning I walked out of the library at about 1:45 a.m., leaving the gigantic mass of stress and entering an ethereal place devoid of sound or expectation. Remarkably I was alone in my walk to my car, my footsteps the first to pack the newly fallen powder. After 12 straight hours of Christmas music, Coldplay, Beethoven, and Radiohead to get me through the similarly 12 straight hours of syllogistic, truth functional, and quantificational logic and proofs, the muffled sound of a gentle snowstorm was a welcome reprieve from the constant noise. This was the beginning of my finals week and I was already so exhausted and low--how could I possibly handle 8 finals and 3 papers in five short days? But walking through the first significant snowstorm of the year, I felt relieved and so utterly blessed. This snow seemed a gift. And I was at peace.
Monday, December 15, 2008
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
I've become so predictable.
I frequent a celebrity gossip blog (and no, if you don't already know what it is, I'm not going to tell you because my dad will call me and be all, "blah blah blah endorsing bad things blah blah blah.) and it brings a lot of humor into my Family History project filled life (except...it's done and turned in and I don't ever have to do a census search ever again halle-freaking-lujah! [run-on sentence intentional]).
Well, some of you may wonder where I developed my lulzy relationship with Twilight.
Thank you ontd (clue!clue!clue!) for providing me with hilarious things to blog about:
[hopefully you can see this. it's a user icon]
Well, some of you may wonder where I developed my lulzy relationship with Twilight.
Thank you ontd (clue!clue!clue!) for providing me with hilarious things to blog about:
[hopefully you can see this. it's a user icon]
ps just teasin' you Dad
Sunday, December 7, 2008
real conversation.
K: Hey Jen, I saw you on tv last night!
J: Wait...what? *racking brain to remember if certain channels show some sort of pageant clips or something. or that old documentary about the Michael Moore vs. Sean Hannity business*
K: Yeah, I was watching a movie when I was falling asleep and when I woke up, I thought I had seen you last night, but then I remembered it was just the movie.
J: Oh. What movie?
K: John Tucker Must Die. You remind me so much of one of the characters.
J: Ahhhhh, Sophia Bush. Yeah, I get that a lot.
K: Which one is she?
J: The one with the dark hair.
K: Ummm...
J: The slutty one.
K: Oh right. Yeah. You remind me of her. The actress, I mean.
true facts.
but hey. the Sophia comparisons keep coming. I'm not complaining.
J: Wait...what? *racking brain to remember if certain channels show some sort of pageant clips or something. or that old documentary about the Michael Moore vs. Sean Hannity business*
K: Yeah, I was watching a movie when I was falling asleep and when I woke up, I thought I had seen you last night, but then I remembered it was just the movie.
J: Oh. What movie?
K: John Tucker Must Die. You remind me so much of one of the characters.
J: Ahhhhh, Sophia Bush. Yeah, I get that a lot.
K: Which one is she?
J: The one with the dark hair.
K: Ummm...
J: The slutty one.
K: Oh right. Yeah. You remind me of her. The actress, I mean.
true facts.
but hey. the Sophia comparisons keep coming. I'm not complaining.
Monday, December 1, 2008
oh what could have been!
The Miss America judges have been announced and I'm definitely feeling some sadness. I would have loved to have competed this year.
Wanna know why?
Oh I don't know. Maybe because I'd be able to stare at this guy for ten full minutes!
It's Cullen Jones, the Olympic swimmer, for those of you that aren't crazy like me.
Seriously. How are you supposed to focus?
Wanna know why?
Oh I don't know. Maybe because I'd be able to stare at this guy for ten full minutes!
It's Cullen Jones, the Olympic swimmer, for those of you that aren't crazy like me.
Seriously. How are you supposed to focus?
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