91 - Gone

In three days, he'll be gone.

He's leaving for 9 weeks and 4 days - basically the whole summer.

I know that people expected him to leave for a longer amount of time, in order to do something else that's also good. But I have faith that he knows how to receive answers for his life. I believe he's doing what he's supposed to do. And I'm proud of him.

I also know that some people have different opinions concerning our relationship. To those people: I appreciate all of the love you have. I really do. Just know that I know how to make prayerful decisions, too. And, ultimately, the only opinion that matters is the Lord's opinion.

In three days, my best friend is leaving. He's the person I talk to about everything. He's the person with whom I want to spend every minute. He's the person I worry about and pray about and laugh with and cry with and argue with and love with every day. Love doesn't have to be perfect to be wonderful.

In three days, I'm going to be very sad. So regardless of your opinion about our relationship, I'm going to need some help. I'm going to need some care. I'm going to need some love.

-ka

90 - The Great Gatsby

One of my favorite books is being made into a movie by one of my favorite directors.



Mr. Gatsby, meet Mr. Luhrmann.

Christmas is gonna be great this year.

-ka

89 - The Beauty of a Second

When I went to a movie the other day, during the Megaplex pre-show (which is normally kind of dumb), there was an ad for something actually really cool.

Recently, the 100th birthday of the chronograph came and went, and in celebration of that, there was a contest. You see, we may not think that it's a big deal to be able to tell time down to the tenth of a second or even less. But to the people living 1912, it was a huge deal - a breakthrough in science that would change the world forever.

To commemorate this huge achievement, there was a film contest. Applicants were to capture beauty in one second, and all of the seconds were put on a website. Then, people could take the individual seconds and create playlists out of them. There were two winners: the winner for the best second and the winner for the best playlist. Unfortunately, I couldn't upload the best playlist on here. But I could upload this playlist, and I still think it's pretty cool. Watch it - it's only a minute long.



If you want to explore the website a bit and maybe find some more playlists, go to montblanconesecond.com.

Like most artsy things do, this got me to thinking about beauty in my own life - and how long a second can actually be.

In one second, a person can be born. Or, a person can die. In one second, you can hear the beginnings of a song that brings back a rush of memories long forgotten. In one second, your life can be changed.

It's important to see the beauty in everything, because it all could go away in one second.

This world really is marvelous; it is a wonder to behold. Sometimes beautiful things aren't happy, and sometimes they are. The important thing to remember about beauty is that it isn't perfect. It just is.

Things at which I marvel and wonder:
my nephew's laugh
a cloudless, starry sky
a snowy night
softly spoken words
the magic of literature
a kiss
intricate melodies
the love between people
the waves of the ocean
the beginning of a new day
a warm hand to hold
the passion one person, namely me, can feel

I think at passion is what I marvel the most. I can get so swept up in my feelings that I can't control myself. I'm taken into a whirlwind of inspiration and excitement; it's overwhelming at times. If I've learned anything about having passions for ideas, it's that oftentimes passion and love go hand in hand.  If I could record anything, it would be the look on someone's face when they think of something, or someone, they love.

I've seen it before, by accident, and I can't think of anything more beautiful than that.

-ka

88 - Mom

When all the world is spinning roundLike a red balloon way up in the cloudsAnd my feet will not stay on the groundYou anchor me back down
I am nearly world renownedAs a restless soul who always skips townBut I look for you to come aroundAnd anchor me back down
There are those who think that I'm strangeThey would box me up, and tell me to changeBut you hold me close and softly sayThat you wouldn't have me any other way
When people pin me as a clownYou behave as though I'm wearing a crownWhen I'm lost I feel so very foundWhen you anchor me back down
There are those who think that I'm strangeThey would box me up, and tell me to changeBut you hold me close and softly sayThat you wouldn't have me any other way
When all the world is spinning roundLike a red balloon way up in the cloudsand my feet will not stay on the groundYou anchor me back down
Anchor, Mindy Gledhill 

When I am down and, oh my soul, so weary;
When troubles come and my heart burdened be;
Then, I am still and wait here in the silence,
Until you come and sit awhile with me.

You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up... To more than I can be.

You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up... To more than I can be.

There is no life - no life without its hunger;
Each restless heart beats so imperfectly;
But when you come and I am filled with wonder,
Sometimes, I think I glimpse eternity.

You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up... To more than I can be.

You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up... To more than I can be.

You raise me up... To more than I can be.


You Raise Me Up, Josh Groban 



Love you, Mom. I wouldn't be who I am today without you. 


Happy Mother's Day. 


-ka

87 - Louder than Perfection

I've had a lot of pressure to be perfect in my life. I've always had near impeccable grades, I've excelled at almost everything I put work into, I've always prided myself in my vocabulary and DAZZLING wit (haha), I like to be in positions of leadership, and I hate hurting people's feelings. Having felt the pressure to be perfect, I have only one thing to say about it: it's lonely.

I don't like to often bother people with my problems. So, during the times when I was most trying to keep up the appearance of perfection, I didn't talk to anyone about how incredibly hard it was. I didn't talk to anyone about the times when I would go down to my room and just cry, for hours. I didn't talk to anyone about times when I would drown myself in music and literature just to escape my life.

Don't worry, this isn't meant to be a downer post.

Yes, I have felt lonely and lost and scared and depressed -- most of the time, I feel those things all at once.  And the worst part about it was that I didn't feel like I could tell anyone, because that would make me fallible.
Weak.
Flawed.

It wasn't until I learned to let people in, even if just a little bit, that I overcame that crushing pressure. It didn't go away -- getting anything less than an A still stresses me out to no end. (Which, thankfully, I didn't have to worry about this semester. AGAIN! Haha bragging a little bit about my 4.0...) No, it didn't go away; however, I found something more important.

Love really is louder than the pressure to be perfect, regardless of what kind of love you're subject to. If it's romantic love, then you know that your significant other will have flaws and you learn to love them because of those flaws. If it's platonic love, then you learn about other people with similar flaws and make lifelong connections. If it's familial love, then it doesn't matter what a person could do or how big of a mistake they could make -- you'd love them anyway. And the best thing about all kinds of love is the support that it gives.

Love calls out to you -- when you have that bond, the urge to trust and feel and lean is almost inherent. At least, for me. When I learned to love and lean, the call to be perfect slowly began to soften. Even if I'm a failure at something, it doesn't matter. I still matter to someone. (Quite a few people, actually.) That fact is the greatest blessing I could've ever asked for.

-ka

86 - Where the Wild Things Are

Today is a sad day.

Maurice Sendak, the author of Where the Wild Things Are, passed away at the very respectable age of 83.

I'll be honest, I don't really know much about him. But I did grow up with Where the Wild Things Are, and so did, I think, almost every child in my generation. (Probably generations before me, as well.)

I always marvel at the genius it takes to create successful children's books. I mean, look at Dr. Seuss. You have to have quite the imagination and insight to delve into a child's mind after you've passed childhood. Sendak's books, so I've read, often relayed observations about the human psyche. If you've ever seen the movie of Where the Wild Things Are, you'd know that's true. My mom said that movie would be an awesome psychology movie -- not so much for little kids. But it was the illustrations in Sendak's book that made it such a great little kid book.

My sister is a kindergarten teacher, so she's starting to gain a collection of good children's books. It's interesting to look at the new ones to see what the new trends are. It's also interesting to look at the books that were read to me in elementary school. Comparatively, my elementary school days were not that long ago. (The librarian was my best friend and she would let me read books that hadn't even been processed yet. But I digress.)

I'd like to think that I have an active imagination. At least, more active than some. I'm passionate about artistic things and I frequently am locked away in the recesses of my mind - sometimes for hours. But, I'm definitely not a creative genius. Writers always like to think that their work is appreciated, though. I'm pretty sure they all fantasize about being world-renowned. I know I probably would never be like that - I don't even know if I could write fiction. But my sister said something a few months ago that stuck with me.

I've written regularly in my journal since I was 12. I just finished my fourth one since then, and sometimes I feel like I write because I have to. Future posterity and all that. But my sister said that sometimes it's good to write for the sake of writing. Not for anyone else except for you. I lose sight of that sometimes. Like in this blog, for example. I oftentimes find myself writing for other people - I write to receive comments. I try to emulate the professional bloggers out there, in hopes of one day gaining attention. Cole commented it on it, actually. He said that sometimes when he reads my blog, it doesn't sound like me. He said that sometimes I write in the style of other people as opposed to in the style of myself. That stuck with me also.

In order to be a writer, you have to put a little bit of yourself on paper. It's very similar to acting in that every person has a different style -- a different voice. Sometimes I put on an act, to impress people or to make myself feel better. Sometimes I hide from what I'm really feeling. If I write something down, it makes it more concrete. So if I don't want something to be true, I have a hard time writing it down. Just like Max in Sendak's book, I hide from the things that scare me. Love. Fear. Anger. Worry. Frustration. Pettiness.

Maurice Sendak wrote a book that not only spoke to children, it spoke to everyone. It speaks to everyone. I don't want to get all romantic about literature (like I tend to do), but there's something about putting serious insights like that in a children's book that makes them more poignant, somehow. Everyone feels those things, at least at one point in their life. Children aren't alone in feeling scared or angry. If anything, being older is more scary because you know that magic isn't real. I know that someday I'll be married and raising my own kids. I know that I can't be in school forever. I know that I'll have to be financially independent. I know that I'll have to make tough choices -- me, by myself. No one else.

There is a lot of responsibility that comes with having your own life.

I think we all need to go where the wild things are sometimes, so we can know that they aren't all bad. Scary -- yes. But not always bad.

Thank you, Maurice Sendak. You were an inspiration to us all.

You taught us that to face our fears, we simply need to put on our wolf suits and ride on a boat to greet our wild things with courage, determination, and an open mind.

So, everyone. Let the wild rumpus start.

-ka

85 - Adventure Time

One Tuesday afternoon, I decided that enough was enough.

I'd had enough of school, I'd had enough of my room, I'd had enough of writing papers, I'd had enough of playing it safe.

I'm not a very spontaneous person... at ALL... and I thought about all the fun that the spontaneous people have. They try new things, meet new people, develop new likes... and I do the same thing. Everyday. In fact, while I was thinking about this, I was at the gym. Which is almost always where I am on Tuesdays at noon.

I eat almost the same thing everyday, do the same things everyday, and see the same people every day. I am, as they say, a creature of habit.

After I told myself that enough was enough, I went back to my dorm, packed my backpack with stuff, and got on the bus. The only thinking time I did was looking up which bus routes go to where, and I ended up at the Logan Temple. Thus began my adventure.

I sat on the bus, pulled the string when my stop came up, and got out. As it was a lovely spring day, flowers were everywhere.

I also saw a lovely view of the temple from across the street. Determined to take lots of pictures, I made my way to the temple grounds. Once there, I commenced about an hour's worth of photography. Here are my favorites:

"A Mighty Fortress is Our God"

After I took many pictures, I sat on the lawn and read for about a half hour. (Speaking of reading... Reading Riot is not finished. I merely have much catching up to do.) This is what I read:

I've read it before - about three years ago. I heard the movie was good, so I wanted to read it again. For those of you that enjoy reading in stream of consciousness, I'd recommend this book. Not all of it is in stream of consciousness, but a good portion is. Disclaimer - there are some F bombs. Luckily, I didn't read any of those while I was reading this at the temple...

Anyway. After I was finished reading, I determined to make my way to Main Street. Along the way, I (of course) took some pictures.

Everyone in Logan always asks if I'm related to the chiropractor. Well, I don't know if I am. But I found his office! 

When I was on Main Street, I wandered into an antique bookstore called Books of Yesterday...

That last one is a VERY old copy of the Three Musketeers! I wanted to buy it so bad, but alas. Not in my budget.

After the bookstore, I wandered to the old courthouse and read for a while longer.

At about 6:15, I began walking back to my dorm. I didn't really want to wait at a bus stop or find my way back to the transit center, so I just walked home from Main Street.

I was gone from 2 until 7. All by myself, walking around Logan. I got a bit sunburned, as it was probably 80 degrees outside, and my feet really hurt afterward. The only person I told was Cole, and he just told me to be safe. He couldn't come because of classes and homework.

Around 6:30, I got a text from my roommate asking if I was dead. I assured her that I wasn't, and that I simply needed... time. Time alone. (When you're living in a dorm, you NEVER get alone time.)

I needed peace, I needed an open mind. I needed to do something so wholly unlike me to see if I could really do it. And I did.

I know it's not anything big. I mean, it was just a bus ride and a long walk. But it was a step into the future for me.

My first year of college is over. I'm starting my first job in fall. I signed a lease on an apartment - my own lease. I think it's time I start taking more steps, don't you?

-ka