think of sulfur and something that's salty and rotten . . . and you get the Great Salt Lake!

So, I finally went to the Great Salt Lake. After three years of living here in Utah, I visited that ever-so-putrid body of water and have lived to tell the tale. Well, technically, I had been there once before, but I didn't actually realize that I was there. Allow me to explain.

Freshman year, Elizabeth and I asked a couple of boys to the Preference dance (girl-ask-guy) and instead of going to the actual dance, we decided to have dinner in SLC and then bum around for the evening. We walked around the streets (posing like sculptures, occasionally), laughed and talked, visited Temple Square (which is kind of obligatory if you're Mormon and visiting SLC), and even stopped in at a Big K and bought a cheap ring to fake people out about an engagement involving Elizabeth and her date Nick.

Anyway, after walking around downtown, we got back in Nick's car and drove around. Someone suggested (jokingly, I believe), that we go find the Salt Lake. Well, we didn't have anything better to do, so that became the adventure of the night. We got to the Saltair Pavilion and decided that we were at least close, but we couldn't see ANYTHING in the darkness. There were some cement barriers that we were afraid to cross for fear of landing in two feet of a gucky, salty mess, so we threw rocks. We heard no splash. We concluded that we were PROBABLY there, but couldn't be sure.

Jump ahead two-and-a-half years and to yesterday.

Elizabeth and I were downtown SLC, eating lunch, and deciding what to do with our two hours of dead time before I took her to the airport. So, randomly, we decided to go back to the Salt Lake. We had no idea what direction we should go, so we stopped at a museum and got a tourist map. Turns out, it is very simple. Get on 80W and you're golden.

So, we take 80W and end up out at the Saltair Pavilion once more. This pavilion is an interesting place. Apparently, it used to look like this, but now looks more like this. And, here's a better-looking more artistic photo of the current building, during flooding, apparantly. As far as I can gather, this pavilion once was used as a ballroom/vacation spot of sorts. Now, it is a run-down place that looks very uninteresting. I'd like to go inside the building sometime and see what it's like. I'd also like to do more research on the old building and how it was used.

Since we were there in the daylight, we could clearly see that we were indeed, very close to the lake. We took pictures and had a generally enjoyable time.

We did not, however, swim in it. I'm actually very afraid of that water. "Putrid" is not an exaggeration, although I'm sure the intensified boyancy would be pretty neat. So, when I go back maybe I'll give it a shot. We'll see.

Trudging through the gooey salty mess that was supposedly known as the "shore".


Elizabeth tasting the lake.
Don't ask me why, but she wanted to.


Elizabeth's reaction to tasting the lake.
Not so good, eh?


Edge of the water.


Us.


Being silly.


And, being silly again.


Picture of Elizabeth through the weird
planet-things that were just sitting there . . .

Matisse is the French Expressionist . . .except he's a Formalist . . .

I stayed up late last night because of my Oriental Art and Architecture class. The final was two-part: a take-home part that involved two essays and Jackson-esqe short answer questions, and the in-class portion which was to involve slide identification and other such factual exercises. As the third part of the take-home portion, we had to do a personal design project where we created a piece of Oriental art of our own. When we got to the class, he began looking through all our papers and sorted them according to which project we chose. Then, he began asking for volunteers to tell what they chose, how they created it, and why. Since I'd done mine so last minute, I didn't want to share and luckily didn't have to. Well, we spent the better part of an hour talking about the projects and I was antsy to get on to the in-class-final-exam-part because I was scared I'd forget all the Japanese and Chinese words I'd feebly memorized for identifying and talking about the art.

The professor (whom I absolutedly adore . . . at least a 9 on the Jackson Scale of Excellence) began to talk about the art history method and personal connections to art. He could tell we were all getting shifty in our seats and then told us that we weren't actually going to take the in-class portion, so we could just calm down and continue the discussion. Okay, EXTREME relief . . . then annoyance because I had taken the time to memorize the material and go to the review session . . . but ultimately, very glad that we wouldn't be taking the other part of the exam. It was a sure way to get us to study and know the pieces of art he put on the slidelist . . . and in a way in which we couldn't afford to slack off (many of the students in the class neglected to read the text before class . . . yours truly included).

Anyway, the professor talked about Mormon art and how it's all rather superficial when compared to other religious art from around the world and centuries ago (granted, the LDS Church is still young in comparison). Most (notice: "most" --- I'm speaking generally, here) of the art specifically tied to our church is straightforwardly representational. In other words, most of the art is painted pictures of Christ, Joseph Smith, or other notable people and places from our past. There is nothing wrong with this type of art---many people love it and are inspired by it. However, we don't really have any art relating to our doctrine. We studied Buddhist mandalas in this class and Prof. Stoneman talked about how we need Mormon art like that. Something that you could show another person that would help them understand about us and our beliefs. I completely agree with him. While there is talent, there aren't very many layers and not much creativity going on. Mormons need to step it up in the art world and create more than pretty pictures.

He said some other interesting things in the last few minutes of class. We talked about art and how "conservative" (READ: narrow-minded) the world of art history is. He actually said to us that if we don't know how we think and feel about a piece of art, then it doesn't matter what other historians or scholars think or write. It is useless to us if we do not have our own opinions. I thought that was very staunch and admirable of him to all the little art history majors in that class worried more about labeling art into movements and getting 4.0s than learning. These refreshing ideas of Prof. Stoneman's came in stark contrast to the review session for another art history class I went to directly after leaving that final. This other class is a general course which I have to take for the major and it covers from Renaissance through modern art. The final for this course is an essay exam. The professor presents us with four questions, two are randomly chosen at the final, and we write about one. So, as we were going over the questions at the review session, the TA basically outlined our essays for us. Well, at least I'll be sure to write what they want me to.

Then, as if that weren't enough of a you-can't-think-for-yourself-slap-in-the-face, some of the students kept getting all worked up about little details and had to ask question after question to clarify. Was Dali a biomorphic surrealist or a naturalistic surrealist? Should we use the term "pointillism" or "divisionism"? Should we discuss Monet's Impression: Sunrise or Rowen Cathedral in our essay? Please. IT'S AN ESSAY EXAM. You get to think for yourself, kids!

Enough about that. The point is, Jack Stoneman is witty and amazing, I'm glad ArtHC 202 is almost over, and I'm looking forward to upper-division classes.

I snapped a picture of Prof. Stoneman today. For posterity's sake.

Shyamalama

I have discovered that I am a wuss.  In the silliest, lamest ways possible, I am a wuss.  The other night, my roommate and I watched The Sixth Sense because we were bored and I was tired of studying and doing projects.  I had seen it before . . . years ago.  It ws in my aunt and uncle's basement by myself in the dark.  Bad idea.  Remember how I'm a wuss?  Well, that time I kept the remote with the mute button handy so I wouldn't have to jump at the scary sounds.

Thursday when we watched it, I had to keep hiding my head behind my blanket, although I didn't turn the sound off.  I was pretty proud about that.  We got through the movie pretty well and I only jumped a few times and laughed several times at my silliness.  At the end of it all, after reflecting on the plot and things, I realized that Sixth Sense isn't all that scary of a film.  Sure, there are a few jumpy spots . . . but really?  It's pretty mild.  That made me feel even more silly.

A little over a year ago I watched The Village with John and I was squeezing his hand so tight he had to ask me to stop because I was hurting him.  I felt bad about that.

SEE??  Wuss.  M. Night is pushing my limits and that's pretty sad.

ASHLAND or BUST

That was the sign we pasted on the back window/door of the bus several years ago on our way to the Oregon Shakespeare Festival in Ashland, Oregon.  Now, the mantra returns.

This afternoon, my friends and I set a date.  A DATE.  That is what we have been lacking these past years.  We are going.  We will be in Ashland, gallivanting around, watching plays, buying merchandise with prominant logos, and drinking Lithia water (maybe).

As I was telling Jess earlier, my dad says (in reference to getting married), "If you don't set a date, you're not engaged."  So, we've set a date and it's ACTUALLY happening.  I haven't been to Ashland in three years.  It has seemed much longer.  Wait no longer, my dear.

Which plays shall we see?  We've not yet decided.  We will probably only be able to afford three . . . maybe four tickets.  Here are our options:

[play synopses]

Angus Bowmer		The Winter's Tale
		The Importance of Being Earnest
		Intimate Apparel
		Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde
New		Bus Stop
		King John
Elizabethan		Merry Wives of Windsor
		Cyrano de Bergerac
		The Two Gentlemen of Verona

ALIAS

It's back. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, ALIAS is back on the airwaves for five more episodes.

Tonight was the two-hour premire of ABC's ALIAS which has been on hiatus for the past several months. ALIAS has long been a favorite show of mine, but there is nothing quite as tragic as watching a great show slowly dig its own sorry grave. I give the show props for taking chances on HUGE cliffhangers. For instance, having Sydney disappear for two years, having Jack murder Irina, or killing off Sydney's love interest of three years. However, when you have these huge plot twists, you have to resolve the issues properly. I don't want to go into the bizzare story lines and boring repetitions/cliches the show has gotten caught up in these past few seasons right now, but I'll just say it's been slipping. Sliding, really. I don't have suggestions on how it could've been done better, but needless to say, I haven't been satisfied with the progression of the story for the last season or two. I can only hope that ALIAS will live up to the original energy and engaging plot of the first two seasons as it makes its exit this summer. Yes, the show is coming to a complete and final close this season. The trailers are promising a "breathtaking" ending that will "blow you away". Let's keep our fingers crossed, shall we?

The episodes tonight were great and got the beginning of the end started with good pace and a good set-up. First good move: FINALLY bringing back Lena Olin . . . she and Victor Garber are my two favorite characters on the show; it's about time they were together again. I am interested to see how things end with our dear Irina. I'm glad Weiss made an appearance tonight and hope he makes a few more. I loved Marshall in this episode . . . the brilliant but nerdy computer geek. Was that statement redundant? Yes, probably so. And of course, the reveal at the end of the episode . . . Michael Vaughn is still alive!! Yeah, they tried to pull a fast one on us . . . as if they could actually pretend to get away with killing him and keep the audience happy at the same time. Not such a huge shocker that's he's alive, but they'd better have some freaking good explainations for this whole muddled fiasco involving his character's background, "death", and subsequent hiding.

According to the trailers, they will be bringing back many of the old/dead characters from earlier seasons including (obviously) Irina and Vaughn, but also Will and Anna. And probably Evil Francie too. And I'm sure Sark will be back too . . . he's never been killed, so he's got a pretty good chance of making a return.

And in conclusion, I'd like to say, Lauren had better not come back from the dead. That would just be tacky. But mostly, it would be Annoying. Very Annoying.

snow day?

  

You may look at these photos and think, "Whyfor, would Jennifer post pictures that appear to be from the middle of JANUARY on a post in APRIL?"

It may surprise you to discover that, these photos, were indeed taken TODAY, this very day.  Despite the glorious weather yesterday, I found myself on campus (in sandals, no less) sloshing around in the snow.  Yesterday, Sunday, it was very bright and the sun warmed the carpet in our bedroom.  I remember how warm it was because I stood in the sunlight and felt it on my toes.  I remember that I stood in it because my roommate and I cleaned our bedroom and the apartment yesterday.

Much to my amazement today, it was snowing when I walked out of the HFAC.  Snow?  In April?  My cousin described Utah weather as being bi-polar.  She may be on to something.

As a side note, I love that our bedroom is comfortably warm . . . not like the rest of the frigid apartment.  Apparently Elizabeth and I have been in a silent war with my other roommate (or so we were informed by the fourth roommate) over the thermostat.  Because we don't pay for heat, Elizabeth and I generally keep the temperature warm when it is cold outside.  Tonight, my silent-war-instigating-roommate opened all the windows in the kitchen and living room and then complained to her boyfriend and I about how cold it was. Explain THAT one.

To end on a happier note, my friend Dave from work is VERY excited to be able to go skiing in April.  His kind of happiness is infectious.  So, that works well for the rest of us.

A Still Life Watercolor

I registered for fall classes today. My future is largely unplanned and I am ready to hit the ground running. Bring it on.

I am looking forward to all of my classes for the fall. More immediately, I am looking forward to my current classes being over. Not that I haven't enjoyed them or haven't learned very much (although that is sadly the case with one), it's just that I am ready to be done. I've said it before and I'll say it again: Whoever created the length of a semester is a freaking genius. Long enough to learn and get into a subject in depth, but short enough so that you don't have a nervous breakdown waiting for it to end.

As I sat in one of my classes today and learned about early French Gothic architecture, I became ridiculously excited. I have a tremendous sense of freedom right now. Many things in my life are changing unexpectedly . . . let's throw Jennifer's life in a blender and see what flavor we get! At first I didn't quite know how to deal with it all. Surprisingly, I am fantastic.

You all know that I love rain. I would much rather live in eternal rain than sunshine if forced to make that decision. However, the sun has been shining today and it has been glorious. After a long winter of snow and sadness, comes the bright rays that perpetuate my feelings of freedom. I am empowered. I can do anything.

On top of the world.

Hello, Caleb.

I just wanted to take a moment to announce that my brother and his wife had their baby Tuesday afternoon around 4pm.  They named him Caleb Seager.  No, "Seager" isn't a family name, it's just a name they both liked.  I like it.  The baby blessing will be on May 7th, so I'm going down to visit them (with my cousin) for that.  I'm psyched to meet this little guy.

Anyway, I'm very happy for my brother . . . he's wanted to be a daddy for a while.  I called my mom "grandma" when I talked to her on the phone Tuesday evening.  She was pretty tickled.

Here's to starting anew and doing the best you can with what you've got.

places to be

Seattle
New York
Berlin (with britta)
Rome
Tokyo
and somewhere in Africa

and maybe Amsterdam