Tuesday, September 29, 2009

New Job

“If you've heard this story before, don't stop me, because I'd like to hear it again.” ~ Groucho Marx

So Monday was my first day at my new job. "What is that job?" you might ask, "a model for the art department" I would reply.

So I leave my 12:45 class five minutes early so I can get to the Spori Building by 1:55, sign in, find the class room and get instructions from the teacher on what to do.

I arrive at the Spori at 1:50ish I go to the art office and clock in. I then start looking for classroom 360. I start to doubt that I have the right classroom so I pull out my computer and realize I'm looking for classroom 340. So logically I follow the numbers on the wall, only one problem 339 is down a hall and in a corner. No other doors around it, I start to panic since it's around 1:55 by now. I frantically go down another hall and can't find it so I go back to the art office and ask the student there, they give me a funny look and point to a door that is diagonal to the office. Oh hey 340. Hello looking stupid.
Anyway I go in and I am still the first model there, yeah! But right then the other three models ( all male mind you) walk in. The teacher, who coincidentally gave the talk at my first devotional evah at BYU-I, gives us direction to sit in any of the four chairs in the room. Thankfully the chairs are cushy.

The first thing the students do is draw me for five minutes, I move a little they draw that position, I move again blah blah for thirty minutes. Then said teacher gives an hour lecture on drawing eyes. I was getting paid to listen to art lessons, saweet!

Then I got back into cushy chair and had to sit still for about 50 minutes. I did it but I think I blinked to much but I couldn't help it sometimes. My neck hurt during and after but I'm proud I did it.
Oh and a few things I learned: My forehead is apparently a little to small to be a perfect measurement and I am fun to draw. Oi! You art person who reads my blog, yeah you with the pants! What makes a model or thing fun to draw? The students would not explain this to me, and I am highly curious.

Oh and I stayed still for an extra 15 minutes, so 65 minutes total, cause my group just kept drawing. I didn't really mind cause I don't have anything going on after 2 on monday/ wednesdays besides homework. They thought it was great and I thought it was great cause I got that much more money.

Tomorrow is 2 1 hour and a half drawings. I hope I can do it. I am so glad one of my roommates is trained in the art of massaging. Speaking of roommates I will talk and post video of them later when I compile the movie the way I want it to look.

Well gotta blaze!!

Monday, September 21, 2009


"Writing is easy. All you do is sit staring at a blank sheet of paper until drops of blood form on your forehead."
~ Gene Fowler

So Yellowstone was amazin. We got to see Old Faithful and some other geysers, not to mention we got pretty close to a couple bison and elk.

Yellowstone is really beautiful and I recommend going to anyone who loves the outdoors.

I took more, A LOT more, so if you would like to see them just tell me and we'll figure it out.

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Dear Mother

You were right, I need new shoes and I should have brought my basketball with me.

Saturday, September 12, 2009

A day Late

"There are two kinds of writers. Those that make you think, and those that make you wonder."
~ Brian Aldiss

Sorry this is a day late, but I didn't read this until today.

By Brian Doyle
A couple leaped from the south tower, hand in hand. They reached for each other and their hands met and they jumped.

Jennifer Brickhouse saw them falling, hand in hand.

Many people jumped. Perhaps hundreds. No one knows. They struck the pavement with such force that there was a pink mist in the air.

The mayor reported the mist.

A kindergarten boy who saw people falling in flames told his teacher that the birds were on fire. She ran with him on her shoulders out of the ashes.

Tiffany Keeling saw fireballs falling that she later realized were people. Jennifer Griffin saw people falling and wept as she told the story. Niko Winstral saw people free-falling backwards with their hands out, like they were parachuting. Joe Duncan on his roof on Duane Street looked up and saw people jumping. Henry Weintraub saw people "leaping as they flew out." John Carson saw six people fall, "falling over themselves, falling, they were somersaulting." Steve Miller saw people jumping from a thousand feet in the air. Kirk Kjeldsen saw people flailing on the way down, people lining up and jumping, "too many people falling." Jane Tedder saw people leaping and the sight haunts her at night. Steve Tamas counted fourteen people jumping and then he stopped counting. Stuart DeHann saw one woman's dress billowing as she fell, and he saw a shirtless man falling end over end, and he too saw the couple leaping hand in hand.

Several pedestrians were killed by people falling from the sky. A fireman was killed by a body falling from the sky.

But he reached for her hand and she reached for his hand and they leaped out the window holding hands.

I try to whisper prayers for the sudden dead and the harrowed families of the dead and the screaming souls of the murderers but I keep coming back to his hand and her hand nestled in each other with such extraordinary ordinary succinct ancient naked stunning perfect simple ferocious love.

Their hands reaching and joining are the most powerful prayer I can imagine, the most eloquent, the most graceful. It is everything that we are capable of against horror and loss and death. It is what makes me believe that we are not craven fools and charlatans to believe in God, to believe that human beings have greatness and holiness within them like seeds that open only under great fires, to believe that some unimaginable essence of who we are persists past the dissolution of what we were, to believe against such evil hourly evidence that love is why we are here.

No one knows who they were: husband and wife, lovers, dear friends, colleagues, strangers thrown together at the window there at the lip of hell. Maybe they didn't even reach for each other consciously, maybe it was instinctive, a reflex, as they both decided at the same time to take two running steps and jump out the shattered window, but they did reach for each other, and they held on tight, and leaped, and fell endlessly into the smoking canyon, at two hundred miles an hour, falling so far and so fast that they would have blacked out before they hit the pavement near Liberty Street so hard that there was a pink mist in the air.

Jennifer Brickhouse saw them holding hands, and Stuart DeHann saw them holding hands, and I hold onto that.

Brian Doyle also wrote a poem like thing called Kaddish in a book called Grace Under Duress. I recommend trying to find it.

Tuesday, September 08, 2009

First day

Treat your friends as you do your pictures, and place them in their best light.
Jennie Jerome Churchill

So I will write about Yellowstone later but here is a quick tale about today.

My parents and I arrived got my key and moved me in. I unpacked all my things and put them away. Which was hard because there are three other roommates that have been living here for at least 1 semester already. I said goodbye to my parents and decided I should turn in the paper work so when the art department calls me to be their head model I could. Well I was going down the stairs that separate the main level from the bedrooms when I slipped. I sadly could not catch myself and I proceeded to slid down to the last stair. Luckily only one roommate was home, and she was busy doing things in the kitchen to see, though she did hear it. I do not think this is a good omen. Oh well cousin Allen is on his way over with the rest of my things, my bike I'm most especially looking forward to getting.

Well gotta blaze!