Photo Blog

This semester one of my dreams came true: 

I got into a photography class. 

So far we have had two assignments. We post our finished products on a class blog but I also wanted to share a few of my photos here. This series was from our second assignment. We were required to take 100 photos of numbers from 0-99 in sequential order. We had to go in order and we could only take one shot of that number then move on––no matter what. Then we had to choose 7 of those 100 to post, untouched and unedited, to the blog for evaluation. These are my top picks, plus a few extras that didn't make the final class cut that I really liked. I hope you enjoy.

 

{forty-five}

{eleven}

{fifty-five}

{Fifty-Nine}

{forty-six}

 {zero.}

{fifty-four}

{six-tea}

{sixty-eight}

.I really liked the concept of this one, 

even though the final product didn't turn out exactly as I wanted it. 

I still think it's pretty cool.

{fifty-too}

{twenty-nine}

.this one made me laugh. gotta love home teachers.

credit: 

thank you to Mike and Jeff for their numerical services. 

my teacher loved this picture.

...Give me some feedback. What's your favorite?

Note: Photos taken with Nikon D90 and Sony Cybershot DSC-H55

A Case of Mistaken Identity

It seems that some of the funniest stories are the ones we can't make up. Now, I don't know if this qualifies as one of them, but it sure gave my family a lot of ammunition to mock me at dinner last night...

Four years ago, at the end of my junior year in high school, I went on a 10-day "study abroad" trip to France with my French class. I stayed alone with a host family in Aix-en-Provence for a week, then met up with my class in Paris for our last three days. As my first trip to a foreign country combined with my high-school level French, a language faux pas was bound to happen. And happen it did.

One of the first mornings with my family we were getting to know each other over breakfast. My mother was asking me about my own family and inquired about what my dad did for his work. Now, my dad is a banker, and I had learned the word in French before, but I just couldn't remember it. My mother knew a little English so I asked her what the French word for banker was. She replied that it was a "boulanger," which is, in fact, French for baker. 


{Note the similarity in English between the word 'banker' and 'baker'}

I realized immediately that something sounded wrong about that, but I was still very self-conscious and unsure of my French at the time, so I assumed that that must be the right word. So, I allowed the conversation to go on...and on....and on....

"Oh he's a baker? What kind of baker?"
"Well, he's a commercial baker, for a company"
"What does he bake?"

[At this point I did understand what she was asking, but all I could think was that was a strange transition in conversation––from occupation to what does my dad make us...]

"Umm, well he mostly just makes us pancakes and breakfast foods. Sometimes bread and stuff..."

I figured out pretty soon that I had made a mistake, but I had allowed the charade to continue so far, that I was too embarrassed to correct her. Thus, my host family believed that my dad was a baker for the next two days. They would make little comments about my dad and his baking and I would just respond as best I could, without correcting them. 

Eventually though I couldn't keep it up. I felt too guilty and, in spite of absolute embarrassment,
I decided I had to tell them the truth...

My mother was just chatting with me and made a comment about my dad and I paused, and said, "Oh, I think I made a mistake...my dad is a banker, not a baker...I was confused..." I probably sounded like an idiot (I know I felt like one) but at least it cleared up the case of my dad's mistaken identity.

One thing I did learn is that lying really is a hassle––even unintentional dishonesty. It's always better to be up front or it can cause acute embarrassment later on. Luckily, that was probably the biggest faux pas I committed on my trip, and I have been careful not to repeat that mistake again.

Word of the Day

My friend once told me a funny story about the unforeseen effects of intelligent articulation. He and another friend went to the housing office of Alpine Village apartments to sign contracts for next school-year. While they were speaking with the receptionist about contract procedures, they discovered that all of the paperwork could have been completed online via their website. Realizing that they had made an unnecessary trip to the office, my friend clarified to the girl,
"So, basically our presence here is superfluous?"
She admitted that it was.


{Insert tangental thought that will be related hereafter...}


Alpine Village, as most who live within the BYU "bubble" are aware, has a reputation for being the housing complex of choice for, shall we say....tools and California hipsters. It is basically the richer and more expensive version of King Henry apartments. It is known for being a community of shallow, superficial, fake-baked, bleach-blonde, plastic, dumb bimbos (male and female). Now, I realize that this stereotype is just that––a stereotype. However, most stereotypes derive from some degree of truth, and I happen to believe that this is a generalization that has some validity. This claim is further supported by what happened next in our little anecdote...

{continue main storyline...}

As my friend says this to the receptionist, a "typical" Alpine Villager walks by.
Description: 
Male.
Fake tan.
Wife-beater tank with shorts.
Shoes? Unknown, but probably flip flops, or barefoot.
Expression: Dazed and confused. (I'm using artistic liberty on this one, but I have a feeling its not far from the truth...)

When this anonymous villager hears him say this, he stops and comments, "Woah. Dude. That's a big word. What does it mean?"
"Unnecessary..."
"Tight. Dude. Word. of. the. Day. Pound it!" (holds out his fist for a congratulatory 'pound').

Now, I realize that some people do not have especially expansive vocabularies. And yet, I find myself rather stunned that anyone would be confident (or, maybe just stupid) enough to admit to not knowing a word like "superfluous."If you have seen Pirates of the Caribbean, then you have heard that word. Jack Sparrow says it in reference to the Dauntless. And I have a feeling most people have seen that movie...especially anyone in Alpine Village. Just a wager. So, forgive me if I seem harsh or judgmental, but....reeeeeeally???

But, to be perfectly honest, I don't really care if the kid doesn't know his words. Maybe he's a math guy....maybe. And, even though I think he is an idiot, and perhaps the world could use a few less of them and a few more literates, at the end of the day, I thank him. I thank him for giving me a story to laugh about. Because after my friends told me this little gem of a story, we have since referenced it many times over. So, I guess what I am really trying to say is this: appreciate life for all its little treasures––even the ones that come from the least of these our brethren. Because sometimes those make the best stories, and when it comes down to it, who doesn't love a good story?

So, thank you Anonymous Alpine Village Idiot. Thank you.

...or should I say,

“     P o u n d    I t !     ”

Finding Truth and Identity in Our Past

 

Thomas Allen Harris

While I was browsing through the New York Times the other day, this article really stood out to me. "Mining Memories to Preserve the Past," by Felicia Lee, discusses the work of documentary filmmaker, Thomas Allen Harris in his latest project, "Digital Diaspora Family Reunion." In an effort to make a collective memory of black history through the lens of digital media, the written word and live interaction, Harris has traveled the country searching for people's stories. Delving into boxes of old photographs, sitting down and listening to each individual and family stories, and even creating a website as a forum for discussion and sharing, Harris has created a living history of Black Americans. 


What really stood out to me was the way in which Harris has chosen to portray and document this part of history. He makes the documentary not just as a record of facts, names and events, but it is  personal. He is using today's technology to not only record, but to          express  the stories and memories of the individuals. As an aspiring photographer, and lover of art and media, I am impressed by Harris' ingenuity and creativity in combining new media (film, photography, web, and live presentation) to tell these stories in a way that is not only new, but is engaging and interactive. It brings storytelling to another level, bringing the audience into the story, integrating their own stories and experiences to mold into one evolving tapestry of life...am I getting carried away??




Anyways...

Not only is Harris' project an innovative and intriguing way to document and share history, but it is a testament, I believe, to the continued relevance and value that our roots have in our lives today. So often we seem to forget or neglect our past. We fail to remember that it is not only where we are going, but where we came from that not only matters, but ultimately determines who we are and, indeed, who we are to become. One of my favorite quotes from the article was by Harris, describing his intent and the meaning behind this endeavor, saying,

 “    We take grandma for granted...We need to understand that instead of looking outside ourselves for value, we can look inside.     ”

Family history is not just about finding names to put on a list or add to your family tree. Both the seeking, finding and telling of their stories makes them a part of your story. It's not just about you. And its not just about them. It is a combination––a bringing together of generations, even if they never touch in time, through recording and sharing their stories. As this happens, the gap between people doesn't seem so wide. 

One thing that this has reminded me of is the need to cherish and share with those family members who are part of our time. We share a bond with family that cannot be replicated or substituted. And I have learned that when I truly listen to my family, especially my parents and grandparents, I find that their advice and their stories are not so far off the mark. I have more in common with them than not.  
For example, my grandma always tells me to smile because it brightens both my day and others'. I assume she tells me this every time I talk to her, not because its just a nice thing to do (although it is), but because from her experience in life, it is better to go out smiling than to wear a frown. Now, maybe that is common knowledge, but it seems to me that the world could use a lesson or two in smiling. So, even though it is not always the most natural reaction, or something I always want to do, whenever I remember our chats, I remember that someone out there loves me and wants me to smile. 

Perhaps that is a naive or simple example, but honestly, she tells me that every time we talk so I like to think it's important. And I know that in the future that is what I'm going to remember. The simple things, the little advice given along the way, is what really makes the difference in the end. 
And maybe that's the point. 

Book Cravings

Lately I've been craving the comfortable companionship of a good book. Unfortunately, when the schoolyear begins my reading is reduced to academic texts (i.e. textbooks, assigned readings, articles) that are usually pretty dry. Although some of my school books aren't terrible, and I do enjoy reading about history (which is the majority of the books we read for my major), there is no substitute for good fiction. I recently discovered this new book site called goodreads.com which is a forum for readers to connect with other bookworms to share their favorite books, keep track of what they've already read, make a list of books they'd like to read, and stay updated on new book releases. As one who always consults Barnes & Noble or amazon.com for ideas for new books to read, this website is a fantastic tool. I love being able to search hundreds of books by genre, author, ratings, recommendations, book club lists etc. Plus it will help me keep track of all the books I've been planning on reading but have never gotten around to yet. I spent a solid hour the other day when I first discovered the site just looking through the lists of books and different features available. Now all I want to do is go out and find these books and start reading!

Voilà ma poste

Parfois je considère écrire en francais. Parce qu'une partie de moi pense toujours que le francais est charmant, beau, et romantique. J'aime le regarder. En plus, il semble que je sais plus que d'autres.

 C'est comme un secret....

My Life as a Disney Princess

I wish that my life played out like a movie. I watch chick flicks and romantic comedies and all I can think is, "Wow, that is such a great combination of humor, fun, sensitivity and feeling, wouldn't it be great if my life worked out so nicely?" I guess I've always been a little dramatic, and my parents insist that I should have been an actress, but honestly, how can I help but wish my life were a movie? When I saw "Beauty and the Beast" there was no turning back. That movie is the epitome of Disney classics and since the age of two I have considered myself to be Belle. If she were any more real to me my parents would have to be concerned for my mental health--which they very well could be anyways. She's strong, independent, adventurous, caring, forgiving, sacrificing and, of course, beautiful, with an amazing singing voice. Everything I'd like to be. Not to mention she makes friends with talking cookware and lives in an enchanted castle. Seriously, how can one be expected to live a normal life after such a spectacular experience? My two-year-old self didn't stand a chance. Once I saw that movie I was hooked, and I have been a proponent of a Disney-esque life ever since. So can I help it if I happen to find my life below-par in comparison to Belle's magical world? I think not. Whoever is to blame for my life-expectations--Disney, my parents, myself--it doesn't really matter. Because even if I am setting myself up for disappointment due to unrealistic expectations for my life, I am still convinced that the fantastic is possible. I CAN have my fairytale ending. And hopefully an enchanting adventure along the way. What can I say? I am, for better or for worse, a romantic at heart. 

(Which, by the way, seems a little redundant, I mean, where else would I be a romantic? I certainly cannot imagine a romantic at foot...for example).