Possibility Intoxicating

--as we circled the fountain, an elderly couple appeared at the gate of the courtyard.

The man called out, "You can jump in if you want to, I won't tell anyone."

He approached. "Where are you from?  Are you two married?"

"We just met," he replied.

I liked that, 

The absence of denial. 

In the balmy night air, the fleeting taste of

Possibility, intoxicating. 

Truth and Beauty

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Tonight I was privileged to attend the lecture of Dr. Seyyed Hossein Nasr (bio here), on the subject of truth and beauty in Islam. 

One thing in particular that he said--or quoted, really--touched me:

Beauty is the splendor of truth.

Taking the statement in, a student in the audience followed up with the question: If something that is truly true is beautiful, can anything untrue still be beautiful?

And his response (to paraphrase): It may be enticing, yes, but it will never attain true beauty because it will always be encumbered by falseness, whether you recognize it at once or not. 

Think on that.

A few more of my favorite sound bytes from the night: 

--If this world is something, God is nothing. If God is something, this world is nothing.

--Expression of truth brings with it an understanding of hierarchy of art.

--God is beautiful. Sacred art is always divinely inspired. 

--Ugliness is human invention.

--Truth means that there is God.

Elusive Elation

In those elusive instances of piercing elation and wonder, a shadow hovers somewhere between my stomach and heart reminding me that I will never be so happy the same way twice.  Even as I take in the joy of the moment, I mourn its inevitable end. A faint sadness for the girl without.

But if there is one thing I have learned in my short nineteen years, it is that these moments, they return.   A particular composition of people, place and time meant to be enjoyed and not reciprocated, yet each bound by a common sense of reckless freedom and separation from reality.

And just as these experiences are never the same, I am never the same within them.  A theretofore unknown piece of me illuminated.  Yet as time moves forward and people and places fade, the memory of illumination remains.

Returning to the daily, weekly, monthly, the subtle, warm knowledge that once

I dabbled in brilliance.

Wonderland

"Time is tricky.

You have whole months, even years, when nothing changes a speck, when you don't go anywhere or do anything or think one new thought. And then you can get hit with a day, or an hour, or a half a second when so much happens its almost like you got born all over again into some brand-new person you damn well never expected to meet."

-- Life is Funny - E.R. Frank

Pink Dusk

Mulling at the brink of the water, s'more in one hand, camera in the other

Fire popping and smoking fifteen or twenty strides behind 

And the cool breeze whispering through the grapefruit tinged atmosphere.

Tonight happiness smells like lake weeds and the wafting scent of one more round of hamburger patties.

Later, when the sun sinks beneath the rising city skyline, 

Silent fireworks set off at the far distant pier are completed by a new soundtrack--

Muffled laughter and soft conversation

As I find myself no longer alone at the water's edge.

Rivals Collide

 ...with good results.

Today the Chicago experience was being sandwiched between a multitude of Cubs and Cardinals fans on the way to the big game. Despite the looming rivalry, the fans took the close quarters with good humor as reds blended with blues. 

I ran into this traffic flow on the way home from a tour of NPR's Wait, Wait Don't Tell Me studio.  May or may not have scored tickets to the taping next Thursday, in addition to a contact or two.  Working for NPR is becoming a new dream of mine--it'll be interesting to see how far I chase it. 

Not to mention that the view from the station was incredible.

Up this weekend: Gelato, some Olympics and an impromptu visit to Northwestern University for a musical collaboration. 

I love this place. 

Rolling Storm

Violent gusts of wind dragged the waves forward as foreboding gray clouds rolled in, seeping the air with thick moisture.  Waiting in line for an outdoor concert, I observed nature's display from one of the best vantage points in the city.  I think I will leave behind one small piece of my heart here--in this city, yes, but maybe even more so in this lake.

Good Night Marilyn

My city view as I settle into bed, listening to the bewitching sound that is Bon Iver.

Listen to this one

So many foreign worlds, so ready for us. 

Night Chicago. 

Windy City Check List

X  Take the subway to work and back without a map

X Experience deep dish Chicago pizza

Eat a Chicago hot dog 

X Go to a concert in Millennium Park 

X Explore the Art Institute of Chicago 

X Check out the vintage shopping in the area

Go to a Cubs game

Cake shake from Portillo's 

Experience Chicago brunch

X Successfully hail a taxi

X Go shopping at Trader Joe's

Check out University of Chicago campus (Grad school?  But mostly just cause it's awesome). 

X Party in a high rise 

X Beach volleyball at North Ave Beach
XArchitectual Cruise

X Go for a lakeside run

Finish The New Rules of Marketing and PR

X Photo-document all of the above

Trending Chicago

(and New York City for that matter), are men's Ray Ban Wayfarers.  I see them dotting the faces of multiple people as I ride the subway from Lakeview to my office in downtown Chicag each morning.

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And I could not approve more.

Not Just A City

Not just a city, but a wild metropolis. A collision of cultures and lifestyles.  An explosion of light and noise and movement.  A place to lose yourself completely.  And while you're looking for yourself, a place to find a world bigger than you ever imagined.

Not just falafels, but New York pizza and frozen yogurt and a waffle with strawberries and the most delicious burger and chocolate shake that have ever graced my mouth (Shake Shack, I am a convert for life).  

Not just a hostel, but a welcome face-full of cool air conditioning, a neighborhood full of lively bars and a room full of lovely girls from England and Brazil.

Not just any weekend :).

CEOs and Compliance

Today I avoided the nasty humidity + 95 degree weather tucked away in Bayer HQ working on a mysterious project entitled "Compliance".  As it turned out, Compliance involved hundreds of pages of reading regarding Bayer's ethical and legal standards. I can now definitively tell you  the circumstances in which you may or may not feed a group of  medical professionals (which, seriously though, is an ethical issue that has bothered me since I put in the hours at that medical records office last summer).

So, yeah, it was a slow day.  But that only made the highlight of the afternoon that much better: meeting Phil Blake, the Bayer U.S. corporate executive (aka President Boss Guy). I was immediately put at ease; he was down-to-earth and soft-spoken, with quite a lovely English accent to boot.  In our brief meeting he related his misadventures going for runs in the area, his mental processes as he oversees the many divisions within Bayer, and his vision for the hemophilia community.  My fellow interns and I surprised him with some recent breakthroughs in hemophilia research and he requested we forward him an article or two.  I left feeling honored to have been able to spend time with such a successful yet humble man. 


With the windows rolled down and NPR turned up, we whipped back to our hotel.  After a week of intensive communication, conflict management and presentation skills training I'm looking forward to a weekend in The City That Never Sleeps.

West Orange and the Lab of Mr. Edison

My fellow intern Amanda and I spent our first full day in West Orange hiking to and from the lab site of none other than Thomas Edison himself.  I both loved and was horrified by the tour of his chemical lab--safety standards were nonexistent! My favorite part though had to be seeing the elderly couples nodding their heads in gentle remembrance as old tunes blared from the demonstrator's phonograph. 

West Orange is beautiful; its lush green hills and old brick neighborhoods  resemble West Virginia's, although with a dash of South American flavor.  We passed around five Peruvian restaurants on our three mile walk alone!

On the way back I caught sight of the peak of this cathedral.  Amanda humored me and we hunted it down.  I'm a sucker for Gothic architecture; I think the only thing that could have made me happier is if I had been allowed up into the tower.

We wrapped up the day with some shopping at Whole Foods Market, dessert with the internship director's family and some relaxing in the hot tub.  Looking forward to my first day on the job tomorrow!

Memoir of a Couch

Stress Relief

It's been a stress-filled week-- the shooting out of bed, heart-pounding at 5 am kind of stress.  My to-do list has been rather hefty, but certainly not more than I've had to tackle before. I've never experienced jittery anxiety quite like this before: hands quivering, mind whizzing from one thing to the next like a hummingbird.

Luckily, the move across the country during my junior year of high school honed my coping skills.  And I've picked up a few more since moving to Provo.  Here we go:

1. The Office

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This show has gotten me through so much. No joke.  One episode and several laughs later, I can't help but feel better, my mind carried ways away from the present worry to the lovely town of Scranton. And before I know it, one episode turns to six. . .

2. Hot drinks

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Originally the drink of choice was hot chocolate (with a Harry Potter book in hand), but I've since opted for the healthier option of herbal tea, peach being my favorite (and college reading requirements have stifled my beloved Harry Potter sessions). 

3. Running

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Doesn't always sound good, but always, always works.

4.  Phone calls

 Julie and mother dear have been on the receiving line lately. (Thanks & much love).

5.  Naps on a soft couch in the warmth of a sunbeam

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Need I say more?

6.  Watermelon

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This is a new one, but so soothing.  I think I have possibly single-handedly consumed four watermelons in the last month.

7.  The Book of Mormon

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When nothing else works, this does. The spirit of this book has comforted and lifted my heart and brought light to my life when I needed it most.  Learn about it here.

8. And ok, I won't pretend this doesn't happen. Often. 

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A Goal is Born

Couldn't help but write this down in my statistics notebook in my very finest looping cursive after hearing it in  New Testament class:


Real leadership is communicating a person's worth and potential so well that they are inspired to see it in themselves.


...Because it's so true.  As a communications major, this struck me as a worthy goal: to communicate people's worth and potential.  And to do it effectively.  


My mind is brimming with the faces of people who have done this for me, who have not just instructed me or pulled me along, but who have filled me with the desire to be excellent. 


If I could do the same, what could be more fulfilling?

Sweet Pea

Someday. . .someone will sing this to me.

And I will be blushing furiously.

On Faxing and Picasso

There comes a time in life when instead of inking the back of your hand with hearts and stars and your crush's initials, you begin to scribble mundane lists. Things like FAXES appear, double-emboldened and triple underlined in block letters because the stakes have suddenly become that much higher.

And to think that a year ago I didn't know how to send a fax. Come to think of it, the process is still a little foggy.  But it's the sentiment of the thing, the necessity for it. The mysterious passageway to grown-updom, faxes.

There also comes a time when your living room walls are adorned with Picasso prints encompassed by tacky gold frames.  This is the time you never thought would come, the time when you can possess a living room with words such as mine, as if the scattered books and shoes strewn across the carpet didn't scream it first.

There comes a time in life when you can smack on a bright shade of lipstick and disappear into the night until the rising sun beckons you back to bed.

But with freedom comes responsibility. Heavy words like work, paychecks, bills, rent, schedules and of course, 

faxes.

If I can't be Kate

Can I just wear her dress?

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Alright, sweet.

Ceiling Can't Hold Us

Another post brought to you mid-Stats.  But this time it's more like 10/14 of the way through, so that's ok, right?  This just looks like so much fun. . .

Chasing Bliss II

Remember this?
*  *  *

Today a well-coiffed, bespectacled young man asked me what I was studying.

I replied, "Public relations, with minors in nonprofit management and. . . music."

I guess I'm used to people raising their eyebrows and nodding (probably in manners-driven approval and usually, ironically, most fervently at the music part), because his retort fired me up just a bit.

"Well," he said (partially joking), "You're definitely not following the money."
Which is probably true.

"You know," I said, "I really believe that if you are passionate about something and good at what you do, the money will follow."

And I do believe that. And something I'm beginning to believe even more is that if you are passionate and proficient and always looking outward, the money begins to matter even less.

It's about chasing your bliss, eh?

And in that vein of thought, I would like to note that this blog post was brought to you two questions into my statistics homework. At least I'm identifying what isn't on my bliss list.

*  *  *

A Dash of Cinnamon

This week happiness tastes like a piece of peanut butter and banana toast with a dash of cinnamon.

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I know this is not a groundbreaking concoction, but I tried it for the first time today and oh my, I am in love.   Like, I-can't-wait-to-sleep-so-I-can-wake-up-and-reunite-at-the-breakfast-table kind of love.


It looks like:

Wonderful roomies, including Clarissa who is missing from this picture.

And sounds like:



Country?  Yes, I am feeling it this week.

And the mysterious city? Here it is--I'M GOING TO CHICAGO!  I recently got the good news about an internship I applied for earlier this year. You can view a news release about it here. Look for updates starting the beginning of June and wrapping up mid-August.  I will be armed with a new camera in hopes that I can adequately capture in word and photo the essence of this amazing city and the incredible organization I will be able to be a part of.

(Life) - (Statistics) = so good.

It Happened

And I have been internally (ok, and externally) freaking out for the last five hours.  I'm scared I'm going to have a terrible crash--it feels dangerous being this happy.

 Details to come.

Dinner with a Woolf

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I think Virginia Woolf and I would have got along famously.  As I read A Room With a View, I found that her writing style--her voice--resonated with me more than anyone I have read before.  And so I found some more from her. 

About love:

“What does the brain matter compared with the heart?”

“One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well.”

About life:

“What is the meaning of life? That was all- a simple question; one that tended to close in on one with years, the great revelation had never come. The great revelation perhaps never did come. Instead, there were little daily miracles, illuminations, matches struck unexpectedly in the dark; here was one.” 

About Jane Austen and used books:

“Anyone who has the temerity to write about Jane Austen is aware of [two] facts: first, that of all great writers she is the most difficult to catch in the act of greatness; second, that there are twenty-five elderly gentlemen living in the neighbourhood of London who resent any slight upon her genius as if it were an insult to the chastity of their aunts.” 

“Second hand books are wild books, homeless books; they have come together in vast flocks of variegated feather, and have a charm which the domesticated volumes of the library lack.”

“Often on a wet day I begin counting up; what I've read and what I haven't read.” 

About being a woman:

“As a woman I have no country. As a woman I want no country. As a woman, my country is the whole world.” 

“No need to hurry. No need to sparkle. No need to be anybody but oneself.” 

About being a BYU coed:

“I really don't advise a woman who wants to have things her own way to get married” 

       You know that age-old question, the one about who--dead or alive-- you would like to have dinner with?   I think I'd choose her--at least this week I would.  I imagine that after our homemade meal we would sit on her wrap-around porch sipping peach tea. 

She'd pose the question:

“My own brain is to me the most unaccountable of machinery - always buzzing, humming, soaring roaring diving, and then buried in mud. And why? What's this passion for?” 

And I wonder how I'd reply.

Sophomore

I love these girls.  Loved living with them, loved growing into my new-found independence with them.

 I cherish my memories of late-night soul-searching and feeling absurdly adult-like pushing a grocery cart through Macey's with Julie (who kindly put up with my scattered papers and shoes and well, everything).

With Lindsey, movie nights, giggle fits, fantastic music (and honestly Linds, one of my favorite memories is when we washed the dishes while listening to Saturday General Conference. And the time you took me to get a slurpee that night when I thought it could only get worse).

With Rachel,  slamming tim tams, sharing missionary stories and learning from her how to be gentler, more soft-spoken and thoughtful.

Spring semester has commenced and I have officially spent one week in my new digs with my new roommates.  There is Michelle, the vivacious returned missionary, Clarissa, the sardonic novelist (a not-so-hidden part of me wants to be a sardonic novelist one day, but first I'll need something to be sardonic about), and Katie, the sweet country girl.

I knew we were going to be great friends the moment Clarissa described the shower water as being "tepid," the moment Michelle suggested we go for a midnight run (and turned up a copy of Ender's Game that she brought to college) and the moment I walked into the kitchen to find Katie eating oatmeal with fresh blackberries.

The new ward's great--I'm only in danger of not getting my statistics homework done.  In exactly four hours I will be waking up to volunteer for a marathon with some of my ward-ees. The things I will do to get to know people.

And in the way of marathons, I did half of one last weekend, checking one of my goals off for the year.  My blonde stunner-of-a-friend Tawni and I had been training for it since January, but she tragically sprained her ankle the week before so I had to run it alone.  Whole marathon next?  We'll see.

This is the part where I would like to say something profound about my freshman year.  But it is 1:26 am and I am now getting up in three and a half hours.  I'm older, marginally wiser, and a whole lot more sleep deprived.  I am blessed with so many wonderful friendships-- thank you, thank you, for making my life so rich.

Good night!

Love at Second Sight

We've got fifty good years left to spend out in the garden, I don't care to beg your pardon, we should live until we die.

The Curse

I think I've discovered the curse of the writer--or the pretentious lover of words who would dare to assume such a title.

(My life would probably be complete if this were my house.)

This is what I think: the curse is to never be completely present in reality.  It's to be constantly forming sentences, re-arranging adjectives and feeling a thrill over savory comma-pauses in your mind.  It's to be muttering the words back to yourself and tasting the description of what you are experiencing even as you experience it.

I find myself doing this all of the time: inventing summary phrases of my experiences as they take place.  Composing pretty flowing sentences to capture the moments, to save them up for a day when I could adequately understand and describe them again.

Even when alone, the writer does not escape the curse.  Especially not then.

I remember lying in bed one night and thinking: It's amazing how incredibly flawed I am. And there it was, so simply but so accurately put. A post-it note tucked away to address on another day.

There are other things, too. Good things, beautiful things.  The minutest details my mind captures.

 The trailing remark I will allude to from the conversation before the conversation before the last.  You mean you don't remember how that color on that paper reminded you of that band whose hit single is obscurely related to our current project?


The details stick, the sentences form and the memories reassemble.

And I will fall into them again and again.

You Guys.

They have a violinist opening.



I am dying.  Dying, I tell you.   Who knows?  It's worth a shot.

Now Suddenly, This Rain

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Six songs for a rainy day:

The Fray, Brooke Fraser, Avalanche City, Joshua Radin and guess what?  A new Taylor Swift song I discovered today.  And this:

I have been easy with trees
Too long.
Too familiar with mountains.
Joy has been a habit.
Now
Suddenly
This rain.
 
― Jack Gilbert