School starts the last day of August. I'm excited to teach again and to workshop more, but where did this summer go? How is my baby boy almost two months old?
Always looking for good writing. If you have a favorite book or author, please share.
Friday, August 7, 2009
A big adventure!
Levi is a state traveler. In the last two weeks we drove to Preston, Lava, Kuna, Seattle (and around), back to Kuna, back to Provo. Plus he survived the car breaking down twice in 105 degree weather! His giggles helped this mom keep perspective. Next week we're going to Paradise, Utah for more fun. I'm daily grateful that his temperment usually mirrors his dad! We are a very blessed trio; I don't deserve it, but we'll keep trying.
School starts the last day of August. I'm excited to teach again and to workshop more, but where did this summer go? How is my baby boy almost two months old?
Always looking for good writing. If you have a favorite book or author, please share.
School starts the last day of August. I'm excited to teach again and to workshop more, but where did this summer go? How is my baby boy almost two months old?
Always looking for good writing. If you have a favorite book or author, please share.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
While the boy sleeps...Les Mis and LibraVox
This is what I'm doing right now. Yes. My life rocks.
We've been listening to Victor Hugo's Les Miserables from LibriVox.org. Unfortunately, I didn't realize that only the first two books were recorded and currently available online. Three more to go! And I'm completely hooked. In my dream world, I would write like Victor Hugo, Marilynne Robinson, and Kimberly Johnson blended. Who can I read that writes mostly about family? (I'm up for suggestions) I don't have much to argue in my writing--mostly I celebrate.
Les Miserables is gorgeous. I love it. Oh so much. Since I was about ten I've been meaning to read it--one of those life goal things I hoped to get to before 30, so here we are. My family went to the play and listened to the music a lot while growing up; yes, I pretended to be Cosette, then I pretended to be Eponine (who may have been less beautiful, but was more dramatic and had better songs). And I love Jean Valjean and Marius. I love Hugo's thought process through the novel: not linear, not circular, something else--is this cultural or otherwise? How do you choose a translation? (I currently have three on my desk plus the one I've been listening to. Isabel Florence Hapgood did a nice job. How will she compare to Charles Wilbur?) The book examines a life in context of humanity--so multiple lives intertwining. Much of it feels essayistic; awesome. The poetic style engages, the commentary interests, and the story carries me through.
The first time I realized the book existed was when my uncle stayed at our house in his early twenties reading it. I remember him sitting next to our piano in a blue wingbacked chair completely absorbed. Peaceful. And I thought, "That's how I want to spend my life," with words, with books, with my family around. This is the uncle that I supposedly look like and who encouraged me to write and who I unabashedly adored in childhood. I adore them all now, but amazing how somone's belief in you can inspire such affection and veneration.
A note on LibriVox.org. Wow. Have I written about how awesome it is? Public domain books on the internet because of willing volunteers. Support it. Love it. Listen.
Les Miserables is gorgeous. I love it. Oh so much. Since I was about ten I've been meaning to read it--one of those life goal things I hoped to get to before 30, so here we are. My family went to the play and listened to the music a lot while growing up; yes, I pretended to be Cosette, then I pretended to be Eponine (who may have been less beautiful, but was more dramatic and had better songs). And I love Jean Valjean and Marius. I love Hugo's thought process through the novel: not linear, not circular, something else--is this cultural or otherwise? How do you choose a translation? (I currently have three on my desk plus the one I've been listening to. Isabel Florence Hapgood did a nice job. How will she compare to Charles Wilbur?) The book examines a life in context of humanity--so multiple lives intertwining. Much of it feels essayistic; awesome. The poetic style engages, the commentary interests, and the story carries me through.
The first time I realized the book existed was when my uncle stayed at our house in his early twenties reading it. I remember him sitting next to our piano in a blue wingbacked chair completely absorbed. Peaceful. And I thought, "That's how I want to spend my life," with words, with books, with my family around. This is the uncle that I supposedly look like and who encouraged me to write and who I unabashedly adored in childhood. I adore them all now, but amazing how somone's belief in you can inspire such affection and veneration.
A note on LibriVox.org. Wow. Have I written about how awesome it is? Public domain books on the internet because of willing volunteers. Support it. Love it. Listen.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Stanley Kunitz
was one of America's Poet Laureates. I discovered him by accident almost four years ago when living with my aunt in a dreamworld where poets should be randomly discovered. I love his poetry, but his prose captures me--lyrical, but straightforward, concise, beautiful. I reread his introduction over and over again. Last winter I read his reflections of a garden and pretty much floated around the universe because of it. Kunitz's writing makes me want to write: a very comforting fact.
I finished The Collected Poems today; it includes work written from the 1920s to 1995 and exhibits a lifetime of thought. This collection isn't organized into an argument. The poems don't necessarily build on each other (these are collected and selected!). Although I prefer collections with an overall development, I appreciated that not everything requires one. Gives some peace when I consider my thesis...
Question: Why is it that people are so drawn to the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice? Especially male poets passing their prime? I love the interpretations; yet I've read so many of them that I wonder if creating your own is part of entering and leaving the world (of writing).
Here's one reason I adore Stanley Kunitz (from his introductory "Reflections"): "Years ago I came to the realization that the most poignant of all lyric tensions stems from the awareness that we are living and dying at once. To embrace such knowledge and yet to remain compassionate and whole--that is the consummation of the endeavor of art....To put it simply, conservation of energy is the function of form....I dream of an art so transparent that you can look through it and see the world."
Yes, I believe.
I finished The Collected Poems today; it includes work written from the 1920s to 1995 and exhibits a lifetime of thought. This collection isn't organized into an argument. The poems don't necessarily build on each other (these are collected and selected!). Although I prefer collections with an overall development, I appreciated that not everything requires one. Gives some peace when I consider my thesis...
Question: Why is it that people are so drawn to the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice? Especially male poets passing their prime? I love the interpretations; yet I've read so many of them that I wonder if creating your own is part of entering and leaving the world (of writing).
Here's one reason I adore Stanley Kunitz (from his introductory "Reflections"): "Years ago I came to the realization that the most poignant of all lyric tensions stems from the awareness that we are living and dying at once. To embrace such knowledge and yet to remain compassionate and whole--that is the consummation of the endeavor of art....To put it simply, conservation of energy is the function of form....I dream of an art so transparent that you can look through it and see the world."
Yes, I believe.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Levi is a month old!
Aunt Megan
Great Grandparents Cole
Great Grandmas Keller and Buttars
Great Grandpa Keller
Great Grandma Cole
Friday, July 10, 2009
Discipleship
"Resilience is part of repentance, showing we have faith to try again...Resilience is really an affirmation of our true identities as spirit sons and daughters of God. We need not be permanently put down, because we can be "lifted up" by applying Christ's atonement (Alma 36:3). The "infinite atonement" thus can apply to our finite failures (Alma 34:12)." --Neal A. Maxwell, The Promise of Discipleship
I love Neal A. Maxwell; I love him so much that we briefly considered the name "Maxwell" for our baby Charles (now Levi). The strength of his work is definitely in his ideas and analogies. The writing itself is clear and fine, but let's face it he's no Marilynne Robinson and that's not his intention, either. (He may use as many exclamation points as commas...which would make listening to him read his work more enjoyable). The chapters in The Promise of Discipleship connect but could be read individually. Search these topics: long-suffering, the Holy Ghost, paradise/prison, mortal purpose, repentance, return. All of this could probably enter the broad category of restoration that Alma discusses--our restoration to God the Father in celestial glory as well as the restoration of God's truth to us on earth. An interesting cycle I still don't comprehend.
I like the thought that we must be divinely determined to repent and continue forward. Sometimes I have to remind myself that I'm human and I don't have to feel guilty about that reality: move forward. To believe that mortality is actually the smallest portion of our existence requires a lot of faith. My faith in this concept fluctuates between desire-to-believe and faith. Eternal perspective is not easy for me to maintain, unfortunately. There is so much I'd like to know, to remember. Maxwell points out that people have individualized experiences for their development on earth in part because we all came here with different "baggage": we're all on different planes of progression. One might need to learn more patience, while another has patience but needs to be tried with humility. What did I bring with me? A lot of love and resistance to use it. Overactive imagination. Mostly a desire to learn.
When I was younger (okay, and now too) I would often sit in a frenzy of thought trying to figure out what I didn't know and how I could learn. The scriptures promise that the righteous will have the mysteries of God unfolded to them, that the Spirit will enlighten and enlarge the understanding--but when? How? What is it? How much am I really missing? (This is not a question I actually want answered, I don't think I could handle the discouragement in this mortal state. And yes, I am one of those lacking in patience. Levi assures me he will help me in this area.) What questions should I ask? What do I need to know now? What precept upon precept should I follow?
I crave discipleship and fear my own failure. Thus, resilience resilience resilience.
I love Neal A. Maxwell; I love him so much that we briefly considered the name "Maxwell" for our baby Charles (now Levi). The strength of his work is definitely in his ideas and analogies. The writing itself is clear and fine, but let's face it he's no Marilynne Robinson and that's not his intention, either. (He may use as many exclamation points as commas...which would make listening to him read his work more enjoyable). The chapters in The Promise of Discipleship connect but could be read individually. Search these topics: long-suffering, the Holy Ghost, paradise/prison, mortal purpose, repentance, return. All of this could probably enter the broad category of restoration that Alma discusses--our restoration to God the Father in celestial glory as well as the restoration of God's truth to us on earth. An interesting cycle I still don't comprehend.
I like the thought that we must be divinely determined to repent and continue forward. Sometimes I have to remind myself that I'm human and I don't have to feel guilty about that reality: move forward. To believe that mortality is actually the smallest portion of our existence requires a lot of faith. My faith in this concept fluctuates between desire-to-believe and faith. Eternal perspective is not easy for me to maintain, unfortunately. There is so much I'd like to know, to remember. Maxwell points out that people have individualized experiences for their development on earth in part because we all came here with different "baggage": we're all on different planes of progression. One might need to learn more patience, while another has patience but needs to be tried with humility. What did I bring with me? A lot of love and resistance to use it. Overactive imagination. Mostly a desire to learn.
When I was younger (okay, and now too) I would often sit in a frenzy of thought trying to figure out what I didn't know and how I could learn. The scriptures promise that the righteous will have the mysteries of God unfolded to them, that the Spirit will enlighten and enlarge the understanding--but when? How? What is it? How much am I really missing? (This is not a question I actually want answered, I don't think I could handle the discouragement in this mortal state. And yes, I am one of those lacking in patience. Levi assures me he will help me in this area.) What questions should I ask? What do I need to know now? What precept upon precept should I follow?
I crave discipleship and fear my own failure. Thus, resilience resilience resilience.
Friday, July 3, 2009
It's been a while...
Although it looks like all I do is take pictures, Levi and I do get out. We go on walks, read books, listen to books on tape, make dinner, clean the house, talk about the wide world, watch the baby quail attack our window with glee.
Since my last real post, we've read:
Truman Madsen's The Life and Teachings of the Prophet Joseph--a beautiful set of lectures. I had never really considered Joseph Smith to be a window into the reality of the atonement before. Because he was the prophet of the restoration his work does enable others to know Christ more. I believe in prophets. That doesn't sound like a monumental statement; I've believed in prophets for most of my life and I struggled for years to know about the truth of Joseph Smith's mission specifically (that story later perhaps). I believe in modern day prophets: not just people with visions or a neighbor who calls himself a prophet, but those particularly called of God to lead His children back into His outstretched arms. I think you have to find out for yourself if a person is a prophet through prayer--I think we have a responsibility to do so, actually. (On a less pious note: I believe Moses and I would have been great friends, but Abraham and I probably would have kept our relationship distanced). In order to be a prophet your life and teachings must match, but prophets are still just mortals. Imperfect humans. Isn't that amazing?
Kevin Hinckley's Burying Our Swords--okay, I wouldn't recommend this one because it is pretty surface level and agenda driven and lacks literary quality (yes, the awful sentences distracted me! I felt bad for their construction) but it isn't terrible. Moral of the book: to improve your situation and relationships, start with yourself and the scriptures. A good moral. This was a quick read, though, and Levi likes to listen to me even at 2 a.m. (that's our scripture time, though--not novels. Scripture and poetry and night, everything else during the day).
Bram Stoker's Dracula--Oh! This is fun. Wesley and I both listened to it from librivox.org (Check out LibriVox--audio books in the public domain, I'm considering volunteering). The "traditional" interpretation of Dracula does not follow the book. The book is significantly better (although, I admit, some of the sentences could use some work. The story is good enough to carry it, though). I wonder how often such works are misinterpreted. We think we know what something is about, then we finally look into it ourselves and bam! We've been wrong the entire time. Dracula is not a horror novel as much as an adventure taken from multiple points of view. Wesley and I enjoyed talking about it chapter by chapter. Good discussions if nothing else. Read it if you're looking for an enjoyable, light, classic read.
Jon Meacham's American Gospel: God, the Founding Fathers, and teh Making of a Nation--Lovely piece. The more I learn about Washington the more I like him. The more I learn about Jefferson the more uncomfortable I am. Brilliant people needed to come together in order to create this nation. They were geniuses in their own ways. They had their weaknesses and preferences. But at the core Washington was fundamentally good, and Jefferson...confused? I'm not sure. Hypocrisy weighs on me. I doubt anyone else could have written the Declaration of Independence--our country needed Jefferson and needs his legacy still. I think, though that Abraham and I would have been closer friends than this founding father. An interesting aspect of this book is the concept of a public "gospel" or the spiritual foundation in which our pluralistic society trusts (most of the time). The making of a nation is fundamentally spiritual: not something I'd really considered before.
Otherwise, I've been examining Levi's knuckles. They stretch and bend. The wrinkles double up on each other. They arch out too much like mine. I love his knuckles. Will the time come when I forget how much I love his knuckles because we're doing other things? Because I'm not holding him close constantly, memorizing his parts, exclaming over his growth? What do my parents think when they look at my knuckles? Do they remember the changes in me or feel the blossoming love that gasps, "I couldn't have made this beautiful person!" Will I continue to marvel at his joints and hinges as he develops and fills them with mud, experience, and large life?
Since my last real post, we've read:
Truman Madsen's The Life and Teachings of the Prophet Joseph--a beautiful set of lectures. I had never really considered Joseph Smith to be a window into the reality of the atonement before. Because he was the prophet of the restoration his work does enable others to know Christ more. I believe in prophets. That doesn't sound like a monumental statement; I've believed in prophets for most of my life and I struggled for years to know about the truth of Joseph Smith's mission specifically (that story later perhaps). I believe in modern day prophets: not just people with visions or a neighbor who calls himself a prophet, but those particularly called of God to lead His children back into His outstretched arms. I think you have to find out for yourself if a person is a prophet through prayer--I think we have a responsibility to do so, actually. (On a less pious note: I believe Moses and I would have been great friends, but Abraham and I probably would have kept our relationship distanced). In order to be a prophet your life and teachings must match, but prophets are still just mortals. Imperfect humans. Isn't that amazing?
Kevin Hinckley's Burying Our Swords--okay, I wouldn't recommend this one because it is pretty surface level and agenda driven and lacks literary quality (yes, the awful sentences distracted me! I felt bad for their construction) but it isn't terrible. Moral of the book: to improve your situation and relationships, start with yourself and the scriptures. A good moral. This was a quick read, though, and Levi likes to listen to me even at 2 a.m. (that's our scripture time, though--not novels. Scripture and poetry and night, everything else during the day).
Bram Stoker's Dracula--Oh! This is fun. Wesley and I both listened to it from librivox.org (Check out LibriVox--audio books in the public domain, I'm considering volunteering). The "traditional" interpretation of Dracula does not follow the book. The book is significantly better (although, I admit, some of the sentences could use some work. The story is good enough to carry it, though). I wonder how often such works are misinterpreted. We think we know what something is about, then we finally look into it ourselves and bam! We've been wrong the entire time. Dracula is not a horror novel as much as an adventure taken from multiple points of view. Wesley and I enjoyed talking about it chapter by chapter. Good discussions if nothing else. Read it if you're looking for an enjoyable, light, classic read.
Jon Meacham's American Gospel: God, the Founding Fathers, and teh Making of a Nation--Lovely piece. The more I learn about Washington the more I like him. The more I learn about Jefferson the more uncomfortable I am. Brilliant people needed to come together in order to create this nation. They were geniuses in their own ways. They had their weaknesses and preferences. But at the core Washington was fundamentally good, and Jefferson...confused? I'm not sure. Hypocrisy weighs on me. I doubt anyone else could have written the Declaration of Independence--our country needed Jefferson and needs his legacy still. I think, though that Abraham and I would have been closer friends than this founding father. An interesting aspect of this book is the concept of a public "gospel" or the spiritual foundation in which our pluralistic society trusts (most of the time). The making of a nation is fundamentally spiritual: not something I'd really considered before.
Otherwise, I've been examining Levi's knuckles. They stretch and bend. The wrinkles double up on each other. They arch out too much like mine. I love his knuckles. Will the time come when I forget how much I love his knuckles because we're doing other things? Because I'm not holding him close constantly, memorizing his parts, exclaming over his growth? What do my parents think when they look at my knuckles? Do they remember the changes in me or feel the blossoming love that gasps, "I couldn't have made this beautiful person!" Will I continue to marvel at his joints and hinges as he develops and fills them with mud, experience, and large life?
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