The Phoenix

When I was little I remember looking at a poster we had in our house, it was never hung up, but it was old and worn in the folded edges when I looked at it... My siblings must have liked it too. On the front was a beautiful painting of a stream running through a glade. A unicorn stood in the shallows, looking at me. Beyond the trees was a castle on a hill. A castle that matched the white of the unicorn. To complete this romanitc picture there was a perfect rainbow arching through the sky.

The best part though was the back of the poster. That was the side we all looked at the most. Mythical beasts were scattered across it with their names printed besides them and paragraphs of information. I had two favorites. The griffin, a fierce looking half eagle, half lion, and the fiery phoenix in the upper right corner. It was an eagle like bird diving through a flaming sky.

Several months ago one of my brothers asked me if I would paint him a picture of a Phoenix. I agreed. But then I had to decide what I wanted my phoenix to look like. I steered away from the bird flying out of flames, that was too common for a phoenix. If I was going to bother to paint one I might as well do one that was different. I also made my phoenix a little more swan like then the eagle of my childhood. In that regard, and the long tail feathers I was probably influenced by how J K Rowling wrote her phoenix. Also while researching a little about the phoenix I found something that said that it's name comes from the Greek word for Purple. I wanted some purple in my painting . Anyway here is my painting, it's done for good or ill.

And if you want a little extra information about the legends of the Phoenix check out this website. http://monsters.monstrous.com/phoenix.htm.

Happy New Years. When we can all burst from the ashes and begin again.

Christmas

It's Christmas. I have better things to do today then post here. I hope you do too. Have a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

Angel

This is a picture I took a while ago (more then a year ago). It was taken in a car driving back from the Louisville Kentucky LDS Temple. Perhaps it is appropriate for this time of year. But I really love it.
This week I have been cataloging (I guess that's what you would call it) pictures from this time period so I thought I would share one with you.

A Walk

This is another scene from a memoir I wrote for school. This one is not in the final draft so I thought I would share it here. It probably would make a little more sense within the whole, but I hope it is understandable.

We stopped in New York state – the rural part of it, for a picnic and a long walk in a sun-drenched field. The hard dirt path was a canyon between the tall grasses, it reached above my head even higher than the marsh grasses behind our house.

“What's this?” My brother asked squinting down at me.

“This is Queen Anne's Lace.” I said fingering the delicate white array of flowers. “Look at the tiny black dot in the middle, that's how you tell.” I continued. He had just returned from his mission, and it was good to have him home.

He pointed farther down the path to another tall stand of flowers. “So this is it, right?”

“Yep.” I answered smugly, showing off for my brother, the one who's tall dark looks made everyone call him handsome. He had a quirky smile that took in the world, saw its weaknesses but still turned upwards, a little.

“How about this one?”

“Uh. I don't know” I hesitated, bending over another plant with trumpeting yellow flowers. “What's this Mom?” I called.

She walked back down the path toward us, my father trailing behind her.

“Oh, I've been wondering about that one too,” she followed my finger “I think it's called 'Butter an' Eggs'.”

“Butter an' Eggs” My brother and I echoed in unison “cool.” We listened as she continued to describe the little flower to us.

Like a butterfly I flitted along the path and among my family.

“Look at this snail.”

“Did you see the Tulip tree, the leaves look like a cup and saucer. It's super cool.”

“This is a beautiful walk.” My mom agreed.

My mind and words flitted from plant to plant and away from any impending future. Just because I ignored the future sometimes, it didn't mean it went away. That summer I saw my sister married. My brother went back to college in Utah in the fall, leaving only my youngest brother and I at home. All of his senior friends were my friends too. At the end of the year they graduated and went their separate paths. I was finally an only child. Like the last leaf on the tree I wondered when it would be my turn to fall, my turn to fly on the wind.

Rehashed Conversations

The other day I was sitting in the hallway of a building on campus. A professor I had two years ago walked by, noticed me and stopped to talk to me. He remembered me. At least a little bit. It was not a particularly important conversation but later that day, sitting in another class, it came back unbidden. I rehashed the entire conversation in my head, head-nods and gestures included.
This happens to me fairly often, where I find myself nodding or giving an inaudible answer to a past conversation. I don't think I'm crazy but it does make me wonder why. What do I find so compelling about certain conversations that I relive them over and over again?
One thought is that it is the people. These conversations tend to be with individuals I admire or respect, and I want their good opinion. Professor's for example.
Another thought is that they are conversations that make me feel good. As in the Professor remembered me (kind of) after two years.
Perhaps I am just rambling but I found it interesting to think about.

Perfection

I realized something about myself this week. And I can't decide how I feel about it. I realized that my brand of perfectionist relates to homework. This means my homework rules my life and I feel that I have to completely do every bit of homework, every reading assignment, every piece of busy work. I do well in school, but sometimes I wonder if it is all completely necessary. It's odd really though I've never been a grade eater, I don't care if I get perfect grades, 4.0's, whatever. To me I think it has more to do with pleasing the teacher, I like people to think highly of me (I'm pretty sure I'm not alone in that feeling). But it really isn't all about being a people pleaser either, it's just I feel like a slacker when I don't do everything that is asked of me. And it's not necessary. But that's how I am. I don't really know how to change, and yet I'm not sure I want to either. It's good to be able to be proud of your work.... but when it takes up your whole life it's kind of annoying too.
Before I started thinking about this I hadn't really thought I was a perfectionist. I guess there is room for everyone in that happy home. Just like everyone is creative or patient in different things. Maybe everyone is a perfectionist in some degree. What kind are you? and do you mind?

Complaining

So a couple of days ago someone challenged me to refrain from complaining the weeks preceding Thanksgiving. I thought OK, I can do that. I'm not a particularly negative person, I can do that.
I've failed. Badly.
My first challenge came when I was in a situation where other people were complaining. I understood their grievances and could commiserate, so I became just another member of the group and joined them.
Failure one. Complaining by Association.
Next I had a bizarre experience happen to me. I was trying to print 20 copies of a 14 page paper for my writing class. At the first computer lab I ran out of free copies. At the second there was a line to even get into use a computer, and I was running out of time. The third computer lab let me print the rest of the copies that I needed. Too bad they then took my ID hostage until I put more money on it to pay for all those pages. During all this I was happy, I was laughing. Life was good. But it was so bizarre I wanted to tell people about it, but whenever I did I felt like I was complaining.
Failure two. Sounds like complaining.
Then, that odd day was followed by two miserable ones. I had a lot of homework and nothing seemed to work out. Really, that's not why I was mad though. I was just feeling grumpy. And so I vented my feelings, crying and complaining. I was overall miserable.
Failure three. Actual Complaining (with the emotion and attitude behind it).
Ha. I thought it would be easy. Easy to be grateful and happy. Nope. It's hard. But the challenge succeeded in one way, I may not have stopped complaining but I've been a lot more aware of when I do complain.
Happy Thanksgiving.