Happy

I'm not a very avid blogger. Clearly.

But just an update: I'm happy, and here's a clue as to why...

I've had a hard time reconciling with myself the fact I got married so young. People liked to tell me that, even after the wedding, and it's always bothered me. I was and am keenly aware of how young I was; I know how it sounds. But you know what? Nathan makes me really happy, and our relationship is the most fulfilling of my life. Here's to what matters most.

Lately

Lately I've been thinking about growing up. And you know what? Sometimes it's hard.

As a little girl I was so anxious to be older. I wanted to wear make-up, shave my legs, and be on my own. I couldn't wait to be older and more mature. I was a dramatic little kid.

Growing up has come naturally to me. I've always been a mature person. In high school my friends liked to say that I was born sixteen, and I think my mother would almost agree with that. I am a naturally an independent person, and my parents instilled in me a healthy sense of responsibility. Transitioning from high school to college was smooth, the only bump being my first night (which I spent alone) in my college apartment. And then I got married, which brings with it a whole new batch of responsibilities that smack more of adulthood than only being in college.

And really, it wasn't until I got engaged that I started realizing how young I am. And the moment after my wedding luncheon ended, I cried, triggered by this immense feeling of "you're not a little kid anymore." I felt so old but still so young, and I wanted to curl up in my mom's arms.

Then life moved on. Back to school, the hustle of exams and research and final papers, and I get swallowed up in the stress and excitement. But lately I've had a lot of free time to think and consider what I want to do after graduation. Graduate school? Work? Something else? A month ago I had a direction and a plan, but I've realized how many possibilities there are, and I begin questioning my original plans. Maybe I want to pursue something else? Maybe I just want to go home, back to Tennessee. When I was in high school, it was mostly Colby, Abby, Leah, and me. Those three are still there while I'm still in Utah, and I can't shake this feeling of wanting to go home to my siblings and parents.

I feel as if I'm walking a fine line between moving forward with my life and going backwards, so I've come to the conclusion that growing up is hard.  

Park City, Short Hair, and Other Tid-Bits

Sorry it's been so long.

Anyways. I have a job, and I work, and Nathan is getting paid to research, and I'm going through something of a mid-life crisis, so we went to Park City this Memorial Day. Because somehow all of those thoughts are connected to one another.

We hiked up a mountain (which was really more or less a big hill), I forgot to put sunburn on my neck so now it's nice and pink, we ate at this shady deli on Main Street, decided to not pay $40 for the alpine coaster that was going to last maybe two minutes, and went swimming at our hotel. It was memorable and actually a really nice chance to get away. Oh, we also recycled all the cardboard and glass that's been laying around our house for the last several months. Park City has a 5,000 sq ft. recycling facility, and I really like that about the city. I wish more towns had a recycling service that comprehensive.

The set-up reminded us of the Alps in Germany, and so we concluded that we could see ourselves living in Park City if we had to live in Utah.

We ended our trip with some disappointing gelato that cost way too much for too little, and so when we got to Provo we went to the Creamery.

Also, I got another haircut. I seem to chop off my hair every two years, so it's a thing. See below for more details.

"It's you I like.
It's not the things you wear.
It's not the way you do your hair
But it's you I like.
The way you are right now
The way down deep inside you.
Not the things that hide you.
Not your caps and gowns,
They're just beside you.
But it's you I like.
Every part of you.
Your skin, your eyes, your feelings
Whether old or new.
I hope that you remember
Even when you're feeling blue.
That it's you I like,
It's you, yourself
It's you.It's you I like."

"...it's likely that each of us, despite our best intentions, carelessly conflates the power to act in God's name [the priesthood] with the vehicle designed to administrate its use."

--Naylene McBaine

Photography as a Truthful Medium

Today in class, Dr. Clark was talking a lot about photography.
He was saying how photography has this reputation for being the most truthful representation, when in reality this veracity was never the case. There have always been staging and editing of photographs before or after capturing the scene, combining of different prints to get the desired finished product, etc. Then he made the observation that, unlike human sight, photography offers a tunneled view of things. He supported this claim with the fact that humans can turn and physically move so as to view something else, but you can't do that with a photograph. Photographs offer a narrow perspective of events, places, and people.

And this is true, but I think that human vision is guilty of the same thing.

How many times do we think we get the whole story by looking at someone or something? We read an article or two about an occurrence, feel informed, establish an opinion, and think we know what went on or what should happen to remedy the situation. We see what people wear, say, laugh at, etc., and begin to think we know who they are as a person, what they believe or think. We want so much to believe that the whole story is right there in front of our eyes, but it never is. The only thing we come close to entirely understanding are our own actions, and even our comprehension of ourselves is rather limited.

So I would put forth the following claim: photography is the *most truthful medium, because it unmasks human vision's own limitations.

Like photography, our vision is that of a tunnel, and quite naturally so. As humans, as organisms and animals, it's natural for us to be egocentric to one degree or another. I think we kid ourselves to say that we enjoy this freedom of sight and perspective that isn't limited, edited, or partial when in reality it is all of the above. Like photography, we never see the whole story; we never see a vision of something that isn't clouded by our own perceptions or experiences. Our reality is cropped, framed, and limited. Even after we experience something, how often do we go back and try to understand the situation, put a new spin on it, and even alter our opinion of what happened? Our reality is akin to the "reality" put forth by photography.

In that way, photography is very real, because it replicates human sight. So I would call it a "truthful" medium.


*I don't know if I would call it the "most" truthful, because I think that painting is similar to photography in many regards, but more thoughts on that later. 

My [hip-hop magic jazz fingers] Nathan

So today, we were ordering our Bountiful Basket (if you don't know what that is, go here for more information). Bountiful baskets come with lots of fresh fruits and veggies, but they also offer what are called "add-ons." These are additional items you can order such as bread, additional produce, etc. Nathan and I were trying to decide which add-on we wanted, and we were corresponding over email (oh you know, this one looks good, but what do you want? I dunno, this one looks good, too. What do you want? etc.) when Nathan busted this out:

"Alas, my decision is yet delayed, for my tastebuds yearn for one add-on like unto many others.  That is to say, I think the 5 9-grain loaves sounds delish.  That's currently my only competitor with the tropical hip-hop magic jazz fingers add on.  My only worry is, we don't have room to freeze four loaves of bread, much less three.  I therefore must conclude that if thou hast no objections to the magical flip floppety tropical add on, that this will be a choice of superior quality and wisdom.  I thank thee.  What says't thou?"

It was one of those moments where I realized the great choice I made in marrying this multifaceted and quick-witted husband of mine.