stroke of genius

I saw this on TED (lower left side bar under "looking off the port bow")when it first came out and loved it. Last week Jill Bolte Taylor was interviewed on NPR as the book she has written is being released. This is a fascinating true story of a brain scientist who falls victim to a stroke. She speaks of how at first she doesn't realize what is happening, only that it is beautiful. Eventually she figures out something is wrong and eight years later she is able to express her struggles and what she learned as a scientist who observe the stroke from the inside out.

This talk is well worth the 18 minutes it takes to view. I guarantee you willbe glad you listened to her. Awesome.

Womanhood. Enjoy to the end!

This was my weekend! We wanted it to be really special for the gals here! As one of our performers (Michelle) pointed out, we wanted the women to feel "set apart" from the world for a few moments, to feel needed, appreciated, loved and to celebrate the Relief Society birthday with a bang! Our dear performers did not disappoint! They embellished!

Womanhood, Enjoy to the End!

Ann Bailey, Michelle Walters, and Melanie Renstrom graciously traveled to our little hamlet in the desert and gave over 700 women, from 4 different stakes a terrific, inspiring, and at times hilarious show! It was so much fun to prepare for this event. It was over a year in the making, but we did it!

These women got together -much by fate and the hand of God- over 13 years ago. Together they decided to take a lighthearted and much needed musical roadshow to the women of the world to say "Enjoy!" Enjoy your life! Feel loved! Know you belong!

This program has a bit of everything. From the fast paced mommy numbers to the slower more moving song choices about enduring love and hope. Personal insights brought many to tears as we laughed together, and cried together, knowing not one of us is alone in our circumstances. We have each other and we have a loving Father in heaven. We all share a purpose that is more than just our 70 or 80 years on the planet. We all have the love of Jesus Christ. We are fortunate to have the Priesthood and programs that were designed by a Father who knows His daughters and wants them to be happy. We are blessed by friends, family and life circumstances. We have each other in times of trouble and joy.

If you would like these women to come to your area, their criteria is simple and FREE! Pop on over to their website and check it out. They were well worth the effort and time! ENJOY!

Lessons in Art

"Mother, child, and Daddy...unfinished work"

A while back I posted the water colour painting I was working on. I have never had any 'formal' art training outside of high school, so when it comes to this medium I am well challenged. Because the lack of experience, I am now working on painting number 3. Yes 3.
"Detail of child"

If I make a mistake with acrylics or oils, I can scrape most of the paint off, wait for it to dry and begin again right over the mistake. The mistake is still there, just well hidden and only I know it's there. Not so with water colours. Or maybe, but I have no clue as how to fix a blooper, so I begin again. Each painting has taught me something new and I continue to learn with each stroke. Not too much here, lighter hand there, layer, layer, layer.
"Detail of scales on the mermaid child"

Yesterday I made a rather "duh" mistake. In my enthusiasm for something that I thought was going well, I rushed it. I forgot about the layers; and this morning when I woke up, again, it hit me. "How am I going to get around fixing this without having to redraw, repaint yet another painting?" I did a little research and headed out to the art supplier here in The Boonies, and spent some time pondering in the aisle. I came home and experimented with the former painting and tried to teach myself a new technique. It worked well enough to keep me from having to start from scratch.
"Detail of illuminated metallic scales on mermaid child. oops, blurry."

So here I am this evening assessing the day's work. My back and shoulders are sore from standing too long in one place and focusing without taking good breaks. What I have I learned?

It's called water colour for a reason, water is very important. Paper is also important. Don't go cheap. Get the best you can, pay the higher price. The better the paper the less it will bubble and curl, the better it accepts your paint.

The water colour paper wants to be prepared before you start in on it. Give it a little water before the paint and it will reward you. Keep adding water as you paint, it keeps the lines from dragging and smudging.

Think ahead and visualize what objects are in the foreground and which will be in the back. In other words, make a plan.

Use a 'masking agent' if you need to block washes from specific spaces on the paper.

No matter how well I try to hide my mistakes, I'll know they're there.

It's like life I guess. Christ was often referred to as Living Water, an Artist, and we, His canvas. We need to accept the Water and we need to be the best we can, to live up to our cost. As in the painting, we need to constantly keep Water in our painting, Christ in our life. We need to have a plan, to keep focused on those things which are just background, and those things which need our attention most.

God has given me commandments to use as a protection for those parts of my canvas I need to keep clean. It's like the masking agent for my life.

Most importantly we have been given the opportunity to repair mistakes. Yesterday I forgot the plan, I rushed into a part of my painting that should have waited. It could have ruined the entire painting, but I was able to use tools, and with patience and work, paint over the mistake. The painting is fine, just as it would have been had I not rushed. It's like repentance. Christ's atonement has given me a way to repair my personal canvas and make it as new. The thing is, even though I make mistakes, I know they are there, but He takes them completely away. I am clean again.

Extreme Makeover...

Wow. Today was great. Church had some really awesome lessons, the best one, I think, in Relief Society. The Extreme Makeover.

The teacher opened with three different Top Ten lists on New Year's Resolutions. One from the city of Brotherly Love, Philadelphia. Their top resolution? Spend more time with family; followed by the usual stuff, lose weight, quit smoking, fix the house up, etc. The second list mentioned many of the same items, and the third made me sit up and take notice. It began...

#1. Never again see someone cold, hungry, or without hope. Find a way to help these people before you leave their presence.

Let me tell you, I heard the Spirit very distinctly and I knew before the day was out one person I knew of would not be cold or hungry again this winter.

The teacher pointed out that all of these resolutions were great, some even admirable, and that a lot of them were very predictable. How do I rid myself of having to repeat the same resolution again, or in other words, How can I finally achieve all this, and have it stick?

She brought out a Barbie doll. We'd all like to be like Barbie. Thin, fit, great job, pretty smile, nice house, fast car and liked by everyone. But how do we get there? Dr. Hollywood. Dr. Hollywood comes along and we can pay him thousands of dollars to Nip and Tuck, Make us the Biggest Loser, and/or give us the Extreme Makeover.

First up, Lasik Eye Surgery to see more clearly. She asked us to think in the terms of the Saviour who advised us to pull the beam from our own eye before we set out to pluck the mote from our [sister's] eye. Good advice. Seeing other folks as the Lord sees them would indeed give us an eye lift that would make us feel better about who looks back at us when we look in the mirror. Spiritual clarity when looking at the world would help us in all kinds of ways!

Dr. Hollywood would charge $3,500, The Lord asks us to be obedient to His laws and Commandments, and to donate 10% of our earnings.

Next, Rhinoplasty. The perfect nose! Again, she helped us see that the Lord asks us to keep our nose out of other people's business, into good books, and to the grindstone. This would make anyone's nose more attractive.

Luscious full lips are all the rage right now. The stores are full of chemical enhancers called lip venom that, when applied, will swell the lips into the desired plump kissable mouth we all want. We can pay Dr. Hollywood $20.00 for lip venom, or thousands for collagen implants; or we can do as the Lord has asked and speak kind words, avoid speaking ill of others, never lying or stretching the truth, and finding ways to lift someone else will lift us as well. Again, it costs 10% and obedience.

She went on to talk about saggy necks that could be lifted surgically or doing facial exercises like smiling and keeping our head high as we go through trials. That tummy tuck or perhaps fasting and donating the money spent on two skipped meals to those who have nothing to eat. Gastric By-Pass or perhaps following the Lord's diet of healthy foods that are fresh, and good exercise. Following the Lord's plan adds a bonus of a healthier mind and Spirit too, for no extra cost. Angioplasty to unblock a clogged artery or maybe acts of love to open up our heart? Flabby underarms could be liposucked or perhaps wrapping those same arms around someone alone or frightened or lost would be more beneficial in the long run.

The lesson had many illustrations for a complete head to toe makeover that would be so much better for us in the long run, because it would strengthen our Spirit as well as our body. No money involved, just commitment to the Lord and following His example and commandments.

It was a fun, motivating and Spiritual lesson. I am so glad she taught it. It was really a good day.

She stepped officially through the Golden Door

Sat in Sacrament this morning and listened to a friend of mine. She bore her testimony. Last May she and 5,000 of her new neighbors were presented up, weighed and measured and sworn in as the newest of the United States of America's citizens.

In her heavy accent she articulated that she loved "da Propet Joseph Smit because Got made him to be here and he saw Got and Jesus. I love da Propet." With tear filled eyes she related her thoughts that she would not have the Gospel if "Joseph Smit did nah live in da U.S. because Got blessed this lan for dis purpose." She loves her childhood home but feels God sent her here to bless her family with the Gospel and even though "I gah da really good job and am the manerger of many peoples it doesn mean nothing because I got the Gospel. Dat's all dat madder. My family has da Gospel." She then said that she felt remorse at waiting to apply for citizenship and putting it all off for so long. It never bothered her before that she could not vote, that she could not serve on a jury, and that she had no more legal rights than she had before she came here. "Now dat I am a real ci-izen I can do dose tings and more. I can voe now an I will. When eh comes my turn to be a jury I will go an do my job. I never had da same righs in my homelan. When I tink abou tomorrow I am happy now because I am real now. Before I was jus here an doing my job. I ha da papers an was legal but not a ci-izen. Tomorrow I will be happy."

As the meeting closed the Bishop rose, went to the pulpit and said the following: "In regard to Sister S's good news, I feel remiss that I forgot to celebrate with her back in May. To rectify that I suggest that everyone stay home tomorrow. Do not go to work. Stay with your families and spend the day thinking about Independence and Freedom and what it means to be a real citizen of these United States. Have a picnic. Go to the mountains or the beach. Eat some barbecue. Perhaps someone can find a firework or two to shoot off. Hey, let's make it a celebration! Let's all think of Sister S and her new found liberties." Then in a very hushed whisper as if to himself he said, "It's good. It's fitting." and sat down.

"Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame, With conquering limbs astride from land to land; Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name, Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame. "Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"
- 1883 by Emma Lazarus, appears on the pedestal of the Statue

So here's to my friend. The newest citizen I know. Let's celebrate with her tomorrow. It's good. It's fitting.

The Easy Road part two

Back ground on Thor and I: We were married when Thor was 19 and I 18. Our children began to arrive two years later. Thor was young, but had a career and decided that "no wife of [mine] will work outside the home!" Part of that was pride and part of that was a true sense of his families upbringing and philosophy. I will admit that I both enjoyed and hated that at times. It gave me the opportunity to do whatever I chose to do with my days, however, before children came along I found myself bored at times.

Enter children and my life became less than relaxed. Mundane, monotonous, bored, how many words can mean the same thing? Amidst the drudgery of the housework, diapers (cloth), and dishes there were great moments of infant discoveries and childhood achievements. I have to admit there were the days when I would have given my right arm to have an adult to chat with.

Thor worked 7-12s. 7 days a week, 12 hours a day. This was the norm in our early years of marriage. There were times when the 7-12 became 7-18 and then the times when work stopped all together and we would ride the savings train until the next job opened up. I was always one who looked forward to my husband coming home, I didn't care about the money, I married for Thor! Unfortunately money is needed to buy the little luxuries in life, like electricity and food, so Thor would take most every job assigned to him and off he would go for another couple of months. Life was good financially and we bought a fixer upper in the desert and set up housekeeping. Many things had to be done and I learned how to fix and repair and paint and make do until the "real" money came in. (still waiting...!)

The 80s came and destroyed the work force in CA and Thor couldn't get a job for three years. We lived off of food storage and hand-me-downs and S'mee went to work for the first time since high school.

I was nervous and scared and thought that because I had put off any collage in place of children I was crazy to even try to get a job. I sent out so many applications and only had one employer call me for an interview. I landed a minimum wage job at a "Hello Kitty" store. My co-workers were all still in high school and I was older than the owner of the store. I felt out of place and desperate. But an amazing thing happened. After one week I was given a pay check and told that I was catching on well. After three weeks I was offered the management position and soon I was earning national awards for myself and my store for our sales and for our visual displays. The boss/owner asked me to enter corporate contests; I won first place in every contest I entered except one, and that was a second place. I was noticed by a corporate sponsor/affiliate who encouraged me to enter other contests and had two of my works published in national magazines. I was doing things I had never done before and being recognized by "important" people in the business. I was asked to do art design for rubber stamp companies, and to create and demo new products. When the owner of the store decided to sell the store back to the corporation, the CEO of Sanrio International came to discuss the deal. I did not know at the time this was the son of the original owner and developer of Sanrio, I just knew him as "Daniel-san". My boss introduced me and after a business lunch "Daniel-san" asked that I address him as "Danny". o.k. Danny then proceeded to offer me the store. He wanted me to run and manage the corporate end of this venture. My pay had just been quadrupled and my title put me at and above levels of others I had worked under in the private sector of the business. Some were very pleased at the promotion, others not so. Either way I would still only have to work 40 hours, but now with benefits, a pension package and "perks". There were many people, including my former boss, who were amazed at my relationship with "Danny" and figured it would not be long before I would move up into the company and into the San Francisco head quarters. I actually could see that myself, which was really complementary and flattering to say the least.

About a month before all of this happened, Thor finally got jobs again. First a week here and a week there. Then before we knew it he was back to the long hours and regular pay. I conferenced with Danny and politely told him I was honoured and pleased, but I would be going home to my kids!

press release: At 11:03 this morning I was called to serve as the 1st counselor in the Relief Society. If you read past comments on the subject, all has been revealed. Which brings me to the scary part, I think after hearing the Bishop's blessing during the setting apart, there are "reasons" for my call, some of which are indeed "scary". lol

On a brighter note, the organization from which I was recently released has an AWESOME new presidency and will totally kick booty! I can really see the Lord's hand in the way everything worked out. It is way cool to see how it came together. The three gals in there now will be able to get things done that were near to impossible before. Timing! All the Lord's timing!

Here Come the Judge...

Lisa over at conversation has a post on "modesty and the modern world". I think it is a great post. I have some of the same "judging" issues as she does. I admit to casting a prejudice eye on those who stand on Holy ground, i.e. LDS Temples. I judge.

Perhaps it is because I have had some success in the area of the topic of concern, because I find myself rather tolerant of other things. (yes, I admit to a double standard) Lisa admits to this weakness as well. I think she is brave to stand at the e-world's front and say out loud she is saddened by what she witnessed. So THANK YOU LISA! You have drug me out into the open to stand with you.

I, S'mee, am saying it our loud: I am sick of the sight of inappropriate attire within the grounds of the temple. To be even more snarky (Lisa, I think, would never do this, she is extremely nice from what I have read of her)...on to being snarky... I am tired of the look of (many of) both genders within the hall of my local church chapel. (Thousands around the world now gasping! o.k. maybe just the ten people out there who read this blog)

(Using your best Rod Serling voice...) Imagine if you will, that we have been invited to a V.I.P. dinner at the White House. We will be sitting next to the President and his lovely wife. We have been asked there to represent ourself, our family, and an average citizen for our country. Other dignitaries will be present and will be introduced to us by name. This is their opportunity to see and converse with us -this one time- about how we feel about being an American citizen and what we believe.

Keep in mind these folks are pretty nice and they hail from the great state of Texas, where I presume, they enjoy a great pair of Levi's as much or more than the other guy. What would we wear?

Would we:
a. Knowing they are hunky dory with jeans and nice folks, show up in our comfy jeans. A little shaggy, but the President will know we are a hard worker and not mind our casual nature.
b. Say to ourself, "hmm, he's a nice guy, but hey, this is the White House, maybe I should wear my best khakis and a golf shirt."
c. Hear Cloris Leachman say, "I suggest you put on a tie!" and wear our suit.
d. Rent the best tux we can afford.

This is a State Dinner, think carefully, what would we do? Think about how we will feel with the others in the room. They, we understand, will be dressed in the finest attire their country requires. For some it will be a tuxedo, others it will be perhaps a special fabric tied in a unique way that symbolizes the importance of the occasion. What is the best choice for us?

Another question to think about. The conversation that will be had.
Will we
a. Think the best way to represent our family and self is to "be ourself", in other words, not change a thing about the way weill speak. They will get the same speech and language we would use at a ball game with our buddies.
b. Clean it up a tad. But hey, how will they really know us unless we keep it "real".
c. Watch our speech carefully.
d. Make sure we use clear language, speak a bit slower than we would in normal conversation, enunciate and try to use words that convey exactly what we feel and believe. Perhaps we will even go so far as to try to learn about the other countries that will be there so that we can ask them pertinent questions as well. Try to improve the level of our conversational skills for the evening.

Hopefully, if you think the way I do (yes, I know, I am the epitome of knowledge), you will have chosen "d" in both sections. Not that we want to misrepresent ourself, but rather show respect for the honour we have been given and to elevate those we represent as well.

Now, if we do these things for our president, should we not do these things for our God? I told you in a post that last week we had to find the "perfect dress" for prom. Do you think I expect anything less "perfect" for my daughter to go to worship her God? Granted she does not show up in a formal for Sacrament meeting, but she does show up showered, groomed, and in clothes that show respect for the occasion. She does not wear sandals and tank tops to Sacrament Meeting. Nor does she feel denim is a fabric of choice when worship is involved. Money is not at issue here. She does not need to purchase a suit from Nordstroms, an outfit from home will do just fine.

If all we have is a simple dress or khakis and a golf shirt, make sure they are clean, pressed and in the best repair possible. Bleach white shirts, keep them crisp and tucked in properly. Spot clean the ties so that they are presentable as well. Purchase clothing that fits well and does not cling. Keep all parts of our body between knees and shoulders covered. Keep hosiery in good repair and clean. Polish and dust shoes before worship. Attend to grooming in all areas. Our body should be as clean as possible before approaching the Lord in formal worship. Pay attention to the nail beds and tips, we carry and or pass the tokens of His Sacrament. Our hair should be clean, cut or styled in a manner befitting those who represent the Lord.

Speech is another issue. Acceptable slang is not appropriate for use in worship. Clean it up, think about what should be said in the House of the Lord, and in His chapels. Find out a little about Heavenly Father, His preferences, His choices, His way of thinking, His customs, so the conversation isn't always inward. Think of the responsibility we have as His representative, do we live up to that as best we can? Or do we think, "hey, He's a nice guy, He already has forgiven me and He doesn't expect me to come all dressed up, He just wants me there."

Doesn't He deserve the same respect we would give a concert, prom, or state dinner? Doesn't He deserve more?

No clever title for this one...

Weird happening of the day: One of the gals I work with had come to church early and sat in on the Primary before us. The gal teaching the lesson used the ol' knot in the string idea to help the children there understand this mortal life and yada yada yada. Later I walk in to set up our Primary and she is telling me about this very interesting way of explaining time, life, immortality, etc. and there you go... "Have you ever heard of it as a knot in the string?" I had to chuckle a bit. Yeah. Pretty cool.

Church was pretty great today. A new family, all of the new family, gave talks. Even the 7 year old talked! It was really fun for a Sacrament Meeting. The the entire family sang together and Dad finished up the schedule. Pretty cool.

Something that occurred during Sacrament meeting prompted me to leave. Here is this beautiful and seemingly perfect family all singing together and pretty much filling the room with a sweet Spirit. I notice a sister leaving with tears in her eyes. Normally you could just say, "o.k." and leave it at that. But I know this sister and I know of her situation and I know why she left. She did not cause a scene in any way and I doubt that anyone besides my self even noticed her leaving. I waited until the verse was ended and then I too slipped out. I found her in the hall overwhelmed with emotion. Her circumstances are such that sometimes when she sees the "happy complete family" it stings just a bit.

Years ago I had a friend whose husband was not a member. He was very supportive, but she knew he would never join, or if he did it would be a long time off. She attended every meeting and social without fail, and with out her better half. Her kids had long left for their own families and now here she was every week, alone. Alone in a church of families. Alone in a place that stresses happiness dependent upon eternal covenants and companionship. And there she was, without hope. She described it to me like always being an invited guest to the country club, but knowing you can never join in on your own.

Well intended folks would inquire where her husband was, how he was doing, and always invite her to join with their families at dinners, socials and during meetings at church. As the ward grew, new folks would move in and seeing her always alone, assume she was single. Replies to questions and concerns were always polite and between smiling lips, but in her eyes we all began to see the sadness.

She missed the fall social, and then the Thanksgiving Toy Drive, and by the time the Christmas Party came she had found reasons to be "too busy to attend this time." By the following summer she was missing all the meetings and eventually quit coming at all. I spoke with her from time to time, we were friends for heaven's sake! There were lots of us who went to lunch with her and plead with her to come to "homemaking, if nothing else." She would politely refuse and one day she explained to us after a matinée, "It just hurt too much to constantly be reminded of what I will never have. I can't do it anymore." They put the house up for sale about two years later and they moved. The letters and cards were always returned unopened. I wonder about her to this day.

People tend to judge their futures by their past. Because I lost one friend I fear I will lose another. All I could do today was give her a hug and whisper to her that I understood how hard it was. I admire this woman more than I can write. She is amazing and strong and smart. She is always responsible in her calling, and will do anything for anyone. She is always in leadership positions and her children have been or will be sealed in the temple. She is constant and she attends the temple regularly. She is a beaming light shining to the Young Women, and an example to their moms. She is funny, witty, charming, and willing.

But she never comes to the socials.

If you don't want my peaches, don't shake my tree.

I have written this post 5 times now. Each time it ends up being WAY too long and sounds very gripey by the end, and I am just mad after reading it for corrections, etc. So I will not rewrite it again. Just suffice it to say that if you want to stay married, love your husband for who he is and has always been. You can begin by looking at him as the eternal companion he will be someday and if you treat him nice for what can give you, he just might start being nice back. Appreciate each other. Be a united front and stop arguing in front of the kids. They learn from you two. If you -their only example of Heavenly Father and Mother- are fighting over crap -yeah, I said crap- then why do you think they fight and argue over who gets what toy? Good grief! Go to the master bathroom, turn on the faucet and have the argument behind those doors. Learn to live within your means and teach your kids to do the same. Lighten up. If you can't live happy on this rock for 60 years you'll never be happy for eternity. Let this be your mantra: If it won't matter in five years why worry (fight, etc.) about it? (Chances are if it matters for five years it could matter for eternity. Who knows.)

Discipline your kids and get a grip mom, you're the boss so start acting like one. Kids need clear instruction and boundaries. If someone sent you to Pluto, you'd need to learn the language, the etiquette, the rules and what is expected behaviors, or you would never succeed. If you stood up as tall as you could and you only came up to their knees you'd freak out too. Try seeing things from their vantage point and give them a break once and a while. Let them win the little things and pick your wars. Be strict with the things that will matter in five years. Play with them. And again, if you can't enjoy them for 18 years, how do you think eternity is going to feel? Not all teenagers have to be horrid, they are a reflection of what you created in your home.

P.S. Not that I don't want to help you, or listen to your woes (trust me, we have ALL been there), I am just tired of the incessant complaints without you taking action or responsibility for your part in it too. And yes, I know there are kids that are just flown in from the planet REBELLION and no matter what you do they will go their merry way and there you go. But I think sometimes we give up too easily on a kid who is just plane bored and name him/her trouble. 'Nuff said.

Happy Earth Day Mom

the fifth day
Originally uploaded by S'mee.

"...Let them have dominion over the fishes of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth." - Moses 2:15

I remember the very first Earth Day. It seems so long ago, but like other national events, a collective remembrance easily brought back to our emotional and rational consciousness.

I was in grade school and my teacher prepped us for this new holiday day by day for weeks. We had more frequent trips to the library, extra time saved at the end of the day to read, search and find all kinds of new and interesting things about our "mom". Some things, like rain forests and polar ice caps were fascinating and grabbed our eyes as well as our minds. Then there were the scary things we were learning about that grabbed my heart. The tiny valley where I lived was the hole in the donut of hills and mountains around us, and learning about "inversion layers" was mind blowing to me. I could walk outside at recess and actually see the accumulation of vapors daily and felt really smart and observant. Smog was new back then. Just as communism, and the threat of bombs scared me -so did smog. I saw it coming, staying, hovering, and all the well meaning reassurance of my teacher could not dissuade the feelings of impending doom; and all it would wreak on me, my family and my future.

We were given tasks to accomplish, both as a class and individually. As Earth day approached our anticipation of the celebration did as well. On the actual day we had a "play day" full of activities. Special games and contests, and in the afternoon the excitement of an assembly! The walk to the cafeteria was electric! We met with other classes, all in line and a twitter with the party atmosphere that seemed to be our special guest that day. We all sat down on the benches and watched as one 6th grade class presented a play. A poem was recited by the kindergarten, and art work from our class was prominently displayed, taped to the tables still upright and folded into the walls. Pictures of all kinds and varieties. Frogs and waterfalls. Trees and slogans. Mine was a collage.

I remember it was on manila tag board. I had cut various photos from magazines and glued them over my original art. It was a city scene. I had learned how to draw perspective and so I enjoyed drawing streets and sky scrapers. Because of my newly acquired knowledge of Smog, it was keen and so important for me to express and educate others of this common enemy. The manila colour of the tag board was the perfect backdrop for my city of "progress". Heavy swirls of golden brown haze rose to the top of the paper. Sky-scapers lost their spires in it's gloomy breath. A black and white, rather sad faced cartoon of a cat was cut from a magazine and set to stroll down the sidewalk. I used my mom's Tri-Chem Fabric Embroidery - Turquoise Blue to draw a dead fish floating down the gutter. "My fuchur" was written on a bill board atop one of the lower buildings in black Magic Marker.

We ended the day by planting a tree in the front of our school. We held hands and stood in a circle as we sang "This Land Is Our Land". Then we went home. The end of the school year came and to my utter surprise I was awarded with my first trophy: 1st Place Artist for "My fuchur" an Earth Day Poster. I was evidently impressed and humbled as I remember both the events on this current Earth Day.

So here we are a thousand years later and what has happened since? Well, to my surprise California passed laws and regulations that have in the past 30+ years actually dropped auto emissions to the point that our air is actually better than it was when I was in grade school. Good job guys!

I am still a bit of a hippy chick. I am still fearful and worry about our eco-systems and environment. I fear we are more concerned about money than resources. I am hopeful and assured that there are others out there who are dedicated and making things better for all of us. I recycle and reuse, I try not to waste my water and resources. I participate in our community clean up days. I am part of a group that has an "adopted highway". If I could, I would morph myself into Ed Begly Jr and be as self sufficient as he. I think the point here is this: God created this big blue marble for us to spin around on and then blessed us with the responsibility to care for it. So, for today, at least, let's think and rethink how we can beef up our efforts and be a better steward. Let's make our momma proud.

Harry Potter's room

Harry Potter's room
Originally uploaded by S'mee.

We had a scare this week. The apartment manager called and told us that there had been a miscommunication within the office and #5's room had already been contracted and signed MONTHS ago and therefore she could not move in.

#5 took the call immediately after returning home from early morning seminarya, so she wasn't as focused as she should have been and kind of had a melt down. She began to think that she would indeed end up having to live as Harry Potter did - under the stairs, in a basement totally devoid of windows). As you can see from the photo the term "room" has been terrible misused. As you look at the photo, the "room" "extends" to the right to the scale of 5' x 4'. (remember how I told you the door hits the end of the bed as you open it? That's the width of this "L" shaped atrocity. Can you picture making this bed every morning? How anyone could live there is beyond me. Needless to say, #5 was freaking.

She took off for school and I tried calling the management back. Ha ha ha ha ha! These people are busy folk! Eventually I retained one of the managers and asked what the situation was (minus the hysterics and panic). The apartment had indeed been under another contract for months. How a business can make this kind of mistake is ridiculous, but what can I do about it now? #5 still had the summer contract but the Aug.-Aug. contract was no more. They could get us in the exact same apartment with the exact same living conditions with the exception of our option was now on the basement floor instead of the street level floor. I'll take it. The arrangements were made; and after talking with the owner, the management procured permission for me to paint the basement room. This is a HUGE thing as the owner doesn't allow anyone to paint - at all- no exceptions! So yippy!

#5 came home to more than good apartment news, she also opened a correspondence that informed her that she had earned 1/2 tuition for 2 semesters with the option of renewal for 4 years dependent on grades! WaHooo!

a. Early morning seminary is a religion class designed to Spiritually educate high school students within the L.D.S. Church Educational System. The curriculum is Old Testiment, New Testiment, Book of Mormon, and Church History - Doctrine and Covenants/Pearl of Great Price; with one of the previous per year of indepth study. Early morning seminary is designated for students outside of Utah and parts of Arizona where participants meet prior to the high school day for the 50 minute program. This means they get up and ready themselves for study which begins as early as 5:30 a.m. in some areas.

Super Models

faux window with birds
Originally uploaded by S'mee.

Sometimes artwork is for the birds. This is an example of faux windows. In a model home, the developer wanted the windowless laundry room to look less claustrophobic, cheery, and someplace pleasant to a chore. I began by chalking out the space and matching the ledge and colours to the existing windows in the house. (This is where my painter's fan deck comes in handy!) I snap some photos for reference (my model of the house features). Next came the painting as desired by the client. Sometimes they want a few plants other times they go for a virtual jungle!

This client, the developer, wanted "subtle vines, very few, but straggling into the room. And birds." So this is what I came up with. We also have a two little birds sitting on one of the door frames unraveling a baby sock.

It's difficult to see in this photo, but the sky is lighter at the horizon line than it is towards the atmosphere. The haze and clouds are done with white, blues and a tad of yellow. The birds were taken from a local ornithology catalog, although they have the benefit of plenty of food! No one wants skinny birds. Most folks think that an artist just has these pictures already in their memory banks and can reproduce them without models. There are some who can, but most cannot. I try to use models as much as possible, so I can get the details correct; such as the higher the sky - the deeper the blue.

Ever really look at things? Most pine trees are more blue than green, dirt is rarely brown and clouds come in so many more colours than white. But our collective memories tell us that clouds are white - all the time, unless they are stormy and then they are always grey. Not so much.

Where would you place eyes on a head? Most people don't realize they are dead center, (about a nostril to nostril width apart) when looking straight on the face, tip of head to tip of chin. Of course there are always exceptions, but again that proves my point on the necessity of models.

Next time you venture to draw, which I hope you do, use a model! Take time to look at your model with seeing eyes, not memory eyes. It will make all the difference! And remember, even Michelangelo had to pick up a brush for the first time.

One Semester (and then some!) in the bank!

It's Tuesday so time for the scholarship report.

My husband always says that his job has always reflected the teaching he learned as a boy and then in his callings via the church. The church has offered us all blessings beyond what we think of on a daily basis. Public speaking. Orgaization of thoughts and life. Being Prepared. Being firm in convictions and standards. Being comfortable conversing with new people who have different ideas and cultures. Making goals and staying focused. Doing the task at hand until it is finished. Knowing that if you have failed there is a lesson to be learned and you can turn it into a positive life lesson, and so on. He says being a business manager is very much the same as his experience in the Bishopric.

Up at 6:30, drive an hour and a half, avoid a jam on the freeway by accessing alternate routes. Having an ATM machine eat my card. Showing up early - who knew? We grab name tags and brochures, find our places and ready ourselves for the opening introductions. It is brought to our attention that today's competition began with teachers and administrators hand picking eligible students who showed academic and civic achievement. That pool was narrowed down determined by the highest scores to a field of 350 -375 in each of California's 10 districts. The 350 or so were pared down to a group of 32. Those 32 kids were divided up into 4 groups and sent to today's competition. Applied Arts, Liberal Arts, Fine Arts, and Math & Science. My #5 was in the math and science group of 8.

Going into the competition she was calm albeit full of trepidation due to her perceived lack of math and science skills. She feels her strong suit is English, grammar, and writing. The competition was 3 part. #1 They were given 30 minutes to prepare a statement (that would not be judged nor even read) to help them gather their thoughts on the topic. #2 One by one they would present a 2 minute presentation of their thoughts on the topic. (This part would be judged by a panel of four assorted community business persons) #3 As a group, the 8 contestants would panel discuss the pros and cons of each contestants idea and could be spontaneously asked questions by anyone on the panel and the judges. (also judged) Scores would be tallied and then a lunch with awards after a keynote speaker.

When #5 was "released" for the 20 minute break between competition and lunch, she looked sick. I could tell she felt she had failed. "I was the only one who took a different view point and then everyone attacked it. The judges were asking all the other kids questions and smiling at them and then whenever I made a point someone else would shoot it down. One kid even tried to gain sympathy by relating his siblings disability to the related topic... but he couldn't state for a fact, but he just stood there all weepy and everyone was sad for him. UHG!" She was very sure they were impressed more by the other kids because they kept more queries for them instead of her. She got a few questions but not rebuttals from the judges like the other kids. While she expressed her disappointment in herself, she was at least smiling and trying to enjoy the event. She introduced herself to most of the kids and about half of the adults and asked who was going where and what their majors would be and tried to fill the time chatting.

Lunch. Rubber chicken with rice. o.k. Not much to write home about. In the introduction the host reassured everyone they were "truly winners just for being here!" Yeah, yeah, o.k., but I want her to win. It sounded nice, but pretty cheesy even for the mom sitting there very proud of the gal who got through the eliminations. The added bonus is for everyone who showed up - just for being there - they would receive a pretty good chunk of change. So, hey, at least we go home with that! S'mee was satisfied.

Of course because it makes a good blog entry and the fates were against us, her category was presented last. All through the day Dad kept text messaging me asking for updates as he couldn't attend. During the 2nd category awards I got his 6th message wanting more news. A "She's already won in my opinion, tell her I love her." was passed via the phone under the table for view. She smiled.

Her friend's category was up. She had the same experience as #5, lone wolf crying in a desert of penguins with all the judges throwing fish. She too felt she would lose, although she felt justified and confident and that the judges in her category would most likely give the high award to a certain boy, whom she admitted graciously deserved it, and to a girl who did not. She was right and she received her prize money, smiled like a beauty queen and was quite the gracious little gal. I was proud of her attitude.

#5's group. 5 honourable mentions, then 3, 2, and #1. It was torture. There was a particularly rude gentleman whose name was called first. I admit I was glad he wasn't in the top ranking and that his name had been called before #5's -"even though in the 5 there were no particular order of importance or rank". WHEW! o.k. I am ready for you to call her name. Another name and another and then another. I was all "OH MY HECK!" then I remembered that there was one more in the bottom 5. Not her name! She's in the top three! HOLY HANNAH! I am screaming on the inside. Third place, Second place and then there was #5! She actually received number one! I was jumping up and down inside and my heart was pounding as she walked up to the podium to receive her scholarship money. BIG money. I was thrilled!

On the ride home we talked about what happened in the competition. After hearing her rendition of the proceedings in detail, I noticed that the reason she more than likely won was due to her learning and experiences in the church. She's just like her dad.

Kokaubeam!

The little desert valley where we live is surrounded on all sides by low hills (actually the back side of mountains), two sides - east and south are particularly close. Sometimes, when the moon rises on a clear night, it appears enormous as it begins to peek over the Eastern hills eating up what seems like miles of jet black horizon. The amber colour is like unto the flesh of a summer squash; and as it flies higher into the grey night sky -it becomes so bright white it almost hurts to view it. Your eyes are so wide open searching for any light source in the west, then you see that big orb in the sky straight above you and the reflection of the sun on it's surface shrinks your pupils so painfully fast it gives both pleasure and pain at the same time. The surface is so clear you can see the craters and valleys and shadows. I love that moon.

I love that fact that although we haven't much to look at during the day light hours, we have beautiful sunsets and glorious stars. I don't say glorious without meaning full of glory.

glory: n 1. very great praise, honour, or distinction - renown. 2. a source of honour, fame or admiration. 3. adoring praise, worshipful thanksgiving. 4. resplendent beauty, magnificence. 5. state of great splendor or prosperity. 6. state of absolute happiness, gratification. 7. the splendor and bliss of heaven. 8. to exult with triumph, rejoice proudly. 9. to boast. 10. "Glory be to God" as used to express surprise and elation. - Webster's

All of these I have experienced while witnessing the stars above my home, in my valley. Like Abraham (see Abr. 2:16), I look up and understand that "eternity is our covering and our rock and our salvation as we journey"... Those stars I see are the same he saw, and they were placed there by my Salvation and if I continue to look to Him while I journey I will be blessed. And I do enjoy looking at those stars! I am humbled by them. There are some who say stars fade, they fall, they shoot away to nothingness. Science tells us they die. I was created to last forever. Those beautiful stars will die and I will live forever! Pretty amazing.

Have you ever just sat and stared at them? I mean so much so that you feel that some of them are indeed closer than others in your depth of field. Long enough to notice them swirl and find their path in the long night hours? I remember one night I was alone in my thoughts. I was driving through the desert on my way home and just lost my breath as I looked through my bug splattered windshield into eternity. I was struck by the numbers and vastness of the space within my vision. I am not learned at all, but I knew, the Spirit was testifying to me about truth and space and the purpose of all those stars. I felt kinship to Abraham and wondered and awed at what he must have experienced when the heavens were opened to his faithful eyes. I am filled thinking about it even still.

Abraham was taught about order and time and eternity via the stars. He was instructed that greater light moves slower (Abr.3:4-10) and that the Lord's time is equal to our thousand years. To me there is much to be said in the statement that we, as a society, should slow down. Some folks say to smell flowers while doctors say to just relax and catch a breath to lower our blood pressure. As we approach the latter days on this planet, whether they be a few weeks from now as some always claim or a few thousand years down the road as others hope, no one can argue the world will become faster and faster. We know from prophecy and revelation that Satan's influence will become stronger and stronger as the last days approach. Do you see the same correlation I do? As we are more influenced by Satan our world grows faster and faster, while the Lord's time remains constant and ordered and slow.

"And it was in the night time when the Lord spake these words unto me: I will multiply thee, and thy seed after thee, like unto these; and if thou canst count the number of sands, so shall the number of thy seeds." - Abr.3:14

Mister Rogers

Every once in a while you come across a post, or a comment that makes you sit up and reread it. The following is one that did that for me. Following the passing of Mr. Rogers, a thread began on
MetaFilter, analyzing the personality of Fred Rogers. Some of the comments were nostalgic, some were cynical, some were a comment, not only on Mr. Rogers, but our society.

There are some misspellings, and some terms and words that I don't approve of, but all in all, I believe that "Pastabagel" has said something important.

You know, it's quite a strange thing. The single most common adjective applied to Mister Rogers in this and other thread is the word 'creepy'?

I think I know why he strikes people as creepy. It's because his isn't at all 'cool'. There is no cynicism, no irony, no condescension in him at all. He is not simply unhip, he is ahip. And this is what people calling him creepy are picking up on.

We are conditioned to traffic in cool. You have to look cool, not look nice or distinguished or presentable, but cool. But it's all so generic. Everyone seems to have the same new haircut that no one 5 years ago had. We all have the same cynical politics.

Something about the counterculture from the 60's is still with us but it has been co-opted into a form of synchronized periodic obsolescence and mockery of that which came before. There is something fundamentally anti-intellectual about this, but I can't quite articulate it. There some element of arrogance there. Like everyone is perpetually 18.

Cool is America's code, and I really do think this is an American problem, because cool is propagated mainly though mass media, and there is no greater media saturated culture on earth than America's. Will I look cool wearing this? Will I sound cool saying this, or reading this or doing this. We're committing mass murder in other parts of the world because somebody figured out how to make violence cool and tough-talk politics cool, and then they combined the too. Swagger is cool. Cowboys and fighter jets and JDAMs and war porn are cool. So that's what we have. We are the Kingdom of Whatever.

Of course he hated ad-libbing on camera, because ad-libbing on camera is inexcusably lazy. It's what you do so you don't have to write or rehearse. Actors and comedians and musicians improvise as a way of living within a moment that is in some way artificial. A method actor may improvise because he is trying to become the character, but he isn't the character to begin with. A Jazz musician improvises because while the structure and the changes are the same, and the audience is familiar with them, the particular moment of performance is not, and that has it's own emotional context.

Mister Rogers was the same guy, so why improvise? The show wasn't about his character, it was about the kids, os you have to work out ahead of time how best to communicate with the child viewers. Everything was planned.

He talks slowly not because kids are dumb but because as studies have shown, children's brains are considerably more active than adults', and they need time to return to the original thought communicated to them after branching off in multitudinous directions.

The puppets? Puppets are good because they are considerably smaller than the human actors around them, and thus kids perceive them as safe. They look like toys. Contrast this with a giant seven foot all yellow bird, and ask yourself which inspired more nightmares.

The show is glacially paced and had the same structure with the same things happening in the same order because children respond to structure and routine is a source of comfort, particularly in children whose lives were anything but predictable.

Maybe that's what cool is - withdrawing from the context of one's life into an artificial one, in which the cool perceives itself to be somehow outside of reality, looking in and commenting on it. But this isn't insight, it's not reflecting on the world. It's standing at the edge of the world sniping into it.

Mister Rogers isn't creepy. CSI with is gruesome bloody corpses every Thursday at promptly 9:14 EST is creepy. Thirty million people looking at that and snaking on chips while they watch is creepy.

Listening to some rapper sing about his genitals and sexual conquests is creepy. Approach crowds of people and talk to them about the aroused state of your genitals, and watch how quickly you end up in a squad car. But somehow it's ok on TV because...why exactly?

Watching a war unfold on television in near real time is beyond creepy. It is obscene. You watch people screaming over their dead loved ones, and then you turn it off and go have dinner, or go to bed? No empathy, no revulsion. What the hell kind of civilization is this?

You know, I watched some 9-11 footage on youtube the other day (because I'm a masochist, apparently), and it occured to me that in the 6 years since it happened, I've never once heard anyone say "I'm sorry for those people who are so consumed by hate for people they've never met and places they've never been. What can we do to lift that burden from them?"

Because that isn't cool. That's being a pussy (or a fag if you are on FreeRepublic). There's no posture to be struck there, no pose. It's something that has to be done in earnest, and that's what's been lacking in the American culture.

Think about the Pope, entering the cell to confront his assassin. He forgave him, we all know that. But can you imagine the conversation? Can you imagine either someone being so perceptive that they can reach into a perfect stranger and expose their soul, or someone whose personality is so shallow that their emotions or ideologies are so shallow that any attempt to probe their depth displaces them entirely?

Mr. Rogers may have been the last earnest man.
posted by Pastabagel, on June 1,2007 at Metafilter