Wednesday, April 25, 2012


it's important because it is what makes life worth living. you should care because it's the record that we will leave behind. it is a symbol. of us. of what we thought was important. of the people we praised. the values we embraced. it should not be forgotten or dismissed as frivolous or arbitrary. our ability to express is central to our human nature. without it, we are machines. animals. there are emotions tied up inside each of us that can't be loosened by a nutritious meal or penicillin. you can live a whole lifetime with perfect health and a steady job but no matter what you do, you may never feel alive. you can exist, but you will never be alive unless you have the ability to loosen your soul. unless you have a song to hear, a brushstroke to make, a ear to listen, a tongue to speak, an eye to read, a heart to see.
those paintings on the wall are not collections of pigment. they are a visual record of ideas, beliefs and emotions. they are human life and experience and spirit in a tangible form. they are not always supposed to click with the logic in your brain. they are supposed to enter your heart. their purpose is to stir you to feel things that you have absolutely no words for, things i cannot explain. the gallery is a spiritual communication between human beings without the barriers of words and bodies. it is a place to understand and to feel understood.
it is the only earthly thing with enough power to cross every boundary.
that is why there is a geometric statue in the middle of the grass over there. that is why there is a pile of hay in the hfac.
they are not objects. they are what the people we call artists use to make all the floaty stuff, all that emotion and pain and joy and idea and passion, into something real. they represent far more than a shaped piece of metal; a placement of material. they are the culmination of a life of observation and research on humanity. they represent a career. this is a life work. this is important.
and maybe the reasons why this is important are not communicated very well or even at all. give us a little slack, here, the reason they are artists is because they speak without words.
but just wait, i will change that. i will be the liaison between the heart and the brain. i'm working on it now. i used to only be good at heart-talk. read the early blog posts--i couldn't communicate with words. i've improved. i have developed a talent through this blog and other avenues to connect hearts and minds with a few words. that's a special gift, and i'm going to use it so i can connect the art and the hearts to an understanding, and i will do that through words and an effective communication of ideas. until it's really changed, have a little faith. have a little faith in me when i tell you there is meaning and significance there. have a little faith in beauty, in the people who make art, in your ability to understand through your heart. have a little faith in ideas and stop relying solely on technique.
have a little faith in art, have some in me,
and one day i'll make sure you have the tools to understand, if you choose to do so.

Tuesday, April 17, 2012


you know that feeling? the warmth of familiarity?
it feels like the coziness of being in a room full of people you love, when you're all snuggled up on the couch, half-asleep and laughing.
or maybe you're all sitting around a fire, or maybe it's just a big mosquito repellent candle, but the love is tangible.
or maybe it's when you lay on the floor for hours and listen to the music play and listen to the breath of those people around you.
or maybe it's those hugs, the kind that strain your neck in a beautiful way, the kind you don't let go of for a very long time.
it could be laying on the warm asphalt on summer nights in front of your house,
or how natural it can feel to have your arm around someone's waist, and someone's arm around your shoulder.

you know that transition? the point where someone shifts into your "familiar"?
it's a beautiful moment.
and all of a sudden, you understand their smiles, you could recognize their voice anywhere, and you think back to the time you were first alone & their voice sounded so new
and how their face first looked to you
but now, you can't see their face in your mind
because it is so much more than their face. this is the moment when your imagination of them changes from a picture to a soul; a conglomeration of memories. a feeling.
this is called love,
and this is the moment of no going back--they've crossed the heart-distance.

they say that home is where the heart is
and maybe it's a fault of mine, but i tend to put my heart into everywhere i go. it covers the corners of all the rooms i stay in; it seeps into the wrinkles of all the hands i've ever held.
and it's hard to know that everything is so temporary
but i heard from someone, once, to live in each place you go as if you'll be there for 10 years. don't think of it as temporary. think of it as home. gather loved ones, live your life, and do not remove yourself because you know you'll be gone soon.
that was good advice. that is my only regret.

to allow something to become familiar can be terrifying sometimes. to let yourself become attached when you know you or it won't stay. it's risky. it guarantees a hard goodbye.

but to miss is a lucky thing.

Sunday, April 15, 2012

Sometimes we'd lay there, and it would be so dark that I couldn't tell if my eyes were closed or not.

And in my memory, you were there.
But my memories are empty. And I can't remember details anymore.

I woke up this morning and realized that I don't know why. Or how. Or when, really.
But I do know that there was a reason for it. A very hidden and nondescript reason.

And I can miss you until my face turns blue. And I can try over and over again to replace you or relive what we had with someone else. But I know I will never be successful.
And nothing can change the fact that I have a life to live. And so many people to meet. And mistakes to make.

The problem is that I don't feel you anymore. I thought my memory of you would live on so perfectly. But I'm starting to forget.

I'm forgetting how it feels to hold you. I'm forgetting how it feels to laugh with you.
I'm forgetting you.

I read past journal entries that don't make sense and look at pictures that I don't remember taking.

My love for you was endless. Or so I thought.

And now I look back and wonder if my old man was right.
But of course he was.

"You'll make mistakes. You'll regret things. You'll fall in love. You'll fall out. And that's life."

I make mistakes.
Maybe you were a mistake. I'm sure my old man thinks so.

But I hope that if there's one thing I never forget,
it's that you were the most beautiful mistake I ever made.

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

i could see for miles and miles and miles

& one year ago, i was in beautiful, colorful paris.

today i came full circle again. it seems to be happening a lot lately.
i sat on the top floor of the HFAC in a room full of windows, covering myself with plaster in the process of creating a sculpture. i watched the clouds move in and the sky turn gray.
the time came to leave. i sat in between the glass doors trying to stuff all my art projects into my backpack to protect them from the rain, which was falling faster and faster now.
i stepped outside with re: stacks blowing up my headphones, just like on all the rainy days. i was a little bit bugged at first, because the rain ruined half of my sculpture and my cubist piece. i put on my hood and i watched the ground.
then, after i had thrown my art into a nearby trash bin, the beauty hit me. i held my head up, and i said hello to the people i passed, and i reached my hands out just like i had six months ago.
and my heart filled right up, of course it did, and i smiled to myself as i waited for the crosswalk to change because your love will be safe with me.
so i listened to stacks again, and i walked up the stairs and when i reached the bell tower, i stopped and looked. everything was so colorful. the trees had become fuchsia and the mist covered the mountains and the white petals that had fallen from the trees lining the sidewalk looked a little bit like snow, the grass was so green, the alive kind of green. it was breathtaking. so i stood and i got wet and i smiled and i was filled,
the kind of filled i haven't been for a good while.
i thought about the last time this happened, when the world was turning orange and red and yellow instead of green and pink and white. it seems like centuries ago.
and i'm not like a tree, because after they lose their leaves, they stop growing until the sun decides to shine again. i lost lots of things, but i made sure i kept growing, with or without the sun, but mostly with it because i am not sessile and i could find my own sunshine. and now it's time to be colorful and share beauty, and i was in need of a fresh start, a new color of green, and i didn't know it until this evening.
and it feels good to be surrounded by my favorite color again.

Saturday, April 7, 2012

happy birthday

to the most beautiful, deeply talented, passionate, determined, blunt, smart and hilariously cynical girl i know.
i love you mallory, with my whole heart. thank you for being my best fly & one of my best friends, you are truly stunning in so many ways. i wish you all the joy this world can give, because you deserve it.

i love you, and i will never stop!


Thursday, April 5, 2012

This can't be happening.

Things are spinning.
But I'm standing still.

And I don't know why I'm so miserably happy.

But I can stand in front of a crowd of strangers and scream out words that aren't really mine.

Because, somehow, other people's words are easier to say.
My words are terrifying.
They are honest.

They are uncomfortable because they are mine.

And the truth is that I don't understand it.
I've never been this confused.

It was exactly like the movies:
Weak in the knees. Shortness of breath. No words. Magic.
My heart stopped for that one moment.

And, somehow, I just knew.
It was you.

It has to be you.

And I feel like a silly, giddy, stupid little girl.

Who knew I would ever come to this?

Not me.
That's for darn sure.

Sunday, April 1, 2012

because of who i am

us at conference

i sat on a park bench with my father, and he asked me how i felt about him leaving the religion that i still live and  love and believe,

and i said, "it makes me sad."

and i started to cry, the kind of tears i only cry when i'm with him.
and i explained that it made me sad because it is the biggest part of my life, my God is the biggest part of my life, and my father was an example to me in that for so long. he said to me that he couldn't believe that people knew, he only thought they could believe.

so i looked him in the eye and said, "i know, dad. i know."

and he asked, "how?"

i explained to him what happened the day i found out that he had left. and i said, "i know because of who i am. because this could have ruined me, but look at who i am. i chose to give all my burdens to God and he took them and he never left my side, and i am proud of who i have become."

"i'm proud of you, too," he said.

today, as i walked in the conference center for general conference, my problems immediately melted. i felt so warm, so joyful, so free. i felt love just overflowing out of my soul. i got to listen to the prophet of God speak today. in the very same room that i was in. and a thought kept coming into my mind, telling me that this was the very best place on earth that i could be at that moment.

and i don't know if it gets annoying or offensive that i seem to bear my testimony so often on this blog, but this is the real deal. i know it. i love it. the reality of God keeps opening up to me and the temporary state of everything else keeps becoming more apparent. i am so grateful that i was once strong enough to choose the refiner's fire instead of another road, because my trials and my faith have combined to become a crucible that made me who i am.

i am iron-willed and soft and patient and filled with love and strong, determined, honest and open, and all of those came as gifts from my Father in Heaven. i can't take credit for any of that. but i'm proud of what i've allowed Christ to make me, and sometimes it's okay to stand up and say "I AM GOOD! I AM ME! I AM LOVED!" because you are. i am.

i can do this thing called life, and i can do it well.