Resolution 2013 - Just Do!

I am a little famous for making resolutions. I like large ones that are pretty much impossible to keep, but I still like to try.  I can usually get a couple months out of them and learn a lot.

This year I am stumped.

I told myself that I would make them after I've had time to reflect on the past year. After the kids went back to school, especially after I put that last child on a plane, then I would have time to really think about what I want.

This past year has been a whopper in a lot of ways, some great--some not so great. I don't know if I am fortified enough to do something difficult. I jokingly told my niece at a New Years Brunch that my resolution was "More Bling in 2013," it kind of rhymes and it is easy. Just wear more jewelry--maybe get some thick gold necklaces with a dollar sign on them, or just wear some dangling, sparkly earrings.

Is that what has become of me--did I throw in the towel in 2012.

Well, not no, but heck no! There is stuff to do and by golly we are going to do it.

I am a big talker, but I am not always a big doer! I want to talk less and do more. This year I put a quote on my refrigerator that I love and I want to live by in 2013, "When we argue for our limitations, we get to keep them," Evelyn Waugh (who is a man, by the way, just in case you wanted to know). No more arguing for why I can't do things. That's just silly.

I went to a local artists open house this December.  His name is Ben Behunin and you can learn more about him at  potteryboy.com. All the pictures in this blog were taken at his home (with the permission of his wife). All of the pictures are of things he created. It was inspiring and I've never seen anything like it. Every nook and cranny of his home was filled with beautiful, personal creations that he shared with us. We walked into his closet, his bathrooms, his workshop, his yard, his kitchen and ate cookies. I couldn't imagine the work they (he and his wife) had done in planning, creating and cleaning! We could buy some of his art at the end, but we didn't have to. I left feeling uplifted. What a nice way to make a living and to share your gifts.

So for 2013:

Love
Help
Save
Give
Experience
Move
Write
Support
Inspire
MORE

Talk
TV
Sleep
Eat
TV
Whine
Excuse
TV
Criticize
LESS

How's that for non-specific goals for 2013.

Why I love Instagram

I've enjoyed social networking platforms. I'm on Facebook, but seldom post. I have a Twitter account and I've been known to tweet, but I am more likely to re-tweet. I am on Google + but I don't have the hang of it. I obviously blog and I enjoy it a lot, but it takes quite a bit of time. Besides blogging, nothing else has really captured my imagination until Instagram.

It is as if I've been struck by lightning.

I am going to be a shameless advocate here, so please forgive me.

I am one of those people who lives inside my head a lot. I love solitary things--like walking, hiking, reading, writing, (napping), and driving. This rather strong need for solitude can be hard to explain. I love to do those things because it is then that I feel in tune with my surroundings. I notice things and I find many of the things I see moving, rejuvenating and inspiring. Then I want to share those discoveries with people I love.

My very first memory is of the side steps on our house. There were several brick steps and on every other one was a large rectangular (at least 4 feet long) planter of red geraniums. They led to lovely french doors that we didn't use and that were purely decorative.  I would lay down on the step next to the planter and hide. From this position I could look up at the flowers and see them framed against the blue sky and be alone. To this day I love the sharp sent of geraniums and the sky through green leaves.

Instagram captures moments like these for me and then allows me to share them.

Instagram also makes me think of Impressionists. I looked up the definition of Impressionists online and here is what I found (I highlighted what I am talking about in blue):


"impressionism [ɪmˈprɛʃəˌnɪzəm] n 

1. (Fine Arts & Visual Arts / Art Movements) (often capital) a movement in French painting, developed in the 1870s chiefly by Monet, Renoir, Pissarro, and Sisley, having the aim of objectively recording experience by a system of fleeting impressions, esp of natural light effects

2. (Fine Arts & Visual Arts / Art Terms) the technique in art, literature, or music of conveying experience by capturing fleeting impressions of reality or of mood

Collins English Dictionary – Complete and Unabridged © HarperCollins Publishers 1991, 1994, 1998, 2000, 2003" 

The beauty of a face just waiting for a subway

I look at Instagram as the whole world recording fleeting moments. Stopping time for just a second and recording what they found interesting, moving, compelling, funny or sometimes just snapping a picture because they were bored.

I find so much beauty in the world. It is what makes life worthwhile to me. The small snatches of beauty that pack every single day. The times that transcend driving carpool or washing dishes. The living in-between.

Instagram also helps me feel connected to other people. I love seeing what my niece has her daughters wear to church. I want to see what family members are eating, where they are going and what they find beautiful.

Another one of my favorite things about Instagram is finding people in other cultures who love the things I do. Who love architecture, landscape, faces and flowers.

The very moment the sun makes something utilitarian beautiful.

I feel connected in ways I didn't think possible. I also feel like the whole world is being documented second by second and then it's gone and the new second is upon us. It's a futile and beautiful documentation of the ephemeral.

The perfect watermelon.

For example, one day I took a picture of the sun and then posted it with hashtag (#) sun. I then looked up on Instagram all the pictures with the #sun. My picture was already buried under 50 or more pictures of the sun--from all over the world.   That's it--it's filed in some digital obscurity.

Of course on Instagram you have followers and people you follow. There is also the possibility of going on Instacanvas to sell your pictures. It's satisfying to connect with people and have them get what you are trying to do--but it isn't why I do it. I do it to just have the ability to capture and share a moment I found inspiring.

The apex of a college career.

Favorite hamburger ever (Toast NYC).

Something grand, like the flowers at the Metropolitan Museum in NYC. 

Something unpredictable like petal-less black-eyed susans marching along the trail. 

The weirdness of the mundane in a mass planting of marigolds in my yard.

The grandeur of my favorite mountain, Mount Olympus, in April.

The simple perfection of a Hollyhock as it blooms.

9-11 Memorial

 I am always happily overwhelmed by the architecture in NYC. It has at its conception a wonderful and almost unconscious hubris that for some reason I find comforting. I am the kind of person who would walk through a creek many, many times before I would ever think of building a bridge. So, I end up admiring people that even think about building things, let alone going out and doing it. 

My husband went to NYC on his mission for the LDS church. He used the World Trade Towers as a point on the compass that helped him navigate the city, much as we use the mountains here in Salt Lake. When 9-11 happened he felt it deeply and personally. He was at the Concert for NY on October 20, 2001. I couldn't even think about going to New York at that time because I was in a state of shock and genuinely scared. He saw the smoking debris at Ground Zero and since that day we have both visited the site multiple times and have seen the many stages of the process of mourning, clearing and rebuilding.

This was the main reason we had to see the 9-11 Memorial, and we found that even unfinished it was stunning. We were there on a chilly and windy day with a blue sky made even more brilliant by the buildings surrounding us.

 I couldn't stop taking pictures. It made me teary and hopeful. I wanted to thank all the people involved in the process--from politicians to the family members of the victims of that terrible day. I loved that they fought about it and for it. That they considered everything and went forward.

 The fountains glowed in a somber kind of hope.

The many people we happened to be grouped with were respectful and interested.

The wind carried sheets of water that washed over the tourists. It was an interesting unintended consequence that I think will end up having to be addressed.

The descending waterfall was powerful and moving and I thought that it did exactly what the architects meant it to -- "reflecting absence."

Here's what the website 9-11 Memorial Website had to say about the waterfall:

"Of all the designs submitted, we have found that "Reflecting Absence" by Michael Arad, in concert with landscape architect Peter Walker, fulfills most eloquently the daunting but absolutely necessary demands of this memorial. In its powerful, yet simple articulation of the footprints of the Twin Towers, "Reflecting Absence" has made the voids left by the destruction the primary symbols of our loss. By allowing absence to speak for itself, the designers have made the power of these empty footprints the memorial. At its core, this memorial is anchored deeply in the actual events it commemorates-connecting us to the towers' destruction, and more important, to all the lives lost on that day…."

I was happy that the Memorial showed respect for the victims but also comfort and in my case a big dose of awe.

Sky and Kathleen taking a moment.

The family reading the names of those that died on 9-11.

It left me feeling hopeful and inspired.

Beautiful Morningside Heights in NYC

We went to NYC all of last week for my daughter's Senior Recital and graduation from the Manhattan School of Music. It was one of the best trips we have ever taken. Everyone was old enough to enjoy the trip and were really good sports, because we walked and walked and walked and walked--just like those pioneer children who sang.

I am always amazed and inspired by the city. When I traveled to NYC before my daughter went to school there I didn't love the city. When my daughter moved there I realized I just didn't like Times Square much, and that is where I'd mistakenly spent so much of my time.

I love my daughter's neighborhood, nestled at the bottom of Harlem, right next to Riverside Park and right in the Morningside Heights section of the city. The picture above is of the view from Grant's Tomb, right next to Riverside Park. Lovely to see so many people learning to ride unicycles on a sunny Sunday (only in NYC).

This area of the city is vibrant, ageless, intellectual, full of seminaries and full of energy from Harlem. Columbia University is near and there are many yummy affordable restaurants and lots of outstanding architecture.

Normal street view

I've become obsessed with front doors, because our new house really needs new ones. New York City is the place to be inspired by doors! These might be a bit grand for our 1960's rambler though.

 

The following pictures are of a courtyard at Barnard. Oh, to be a Barnard woman! We left just before President Obama gave his commencement address there.

Columbia!

Columbia, blending old and new

In most places in Salt Lake you have to get in a car and drive to get groceries and other necessities of life.  It is something that drives my daughter crazy when she comes home. Suburban sprawl makes for quiet neighborhoods, but I do think we miss out on something really nice. Every one of these pictures was taken just a short distance from her room.

We are all mourning--just a little bit--of her leaving New York. Maybe I'll learn to love Los Angeles--where she is off to next.

The glorious Cathedral of the Madeleine--the exterior, . . and a Gargoyle Story

I think the Cathedral of the Madeleine in Salt Lake City is a stunner. If you want to see more of the Cathedral check out their website here. I went with my daughter for her A.P. Art History extra-credit photo tour. It was a particularly gray day which I thought made the pictures extra dramatic. It looks as if the photos are black and white but they are in color.

It is made out of Utah sandstone from Carbon County. The sandstone used for the Presbyterian Church that I blogged about previously was mined from Red Butte Canyon. The difference in the colors of the two churches is amazing. This almost colorless sandstone is austere and dramatic. (I have to admit I really LOVE the warm red sandstone on the Presbyterian Church.)

I am particularly fond of the gargoyles! I think every building should have some gnarly gargoyle looking down on the little humans below. Look at this one watch you!

Here he is getting closer.

Another gargoyle friend on the other side.

 He seems to be laughing at us.

Here is little history of these particular gargoyles from the Cathedral of the Madeleine Website.

"Eight gargoyles look down from the 185-feet-high east and west towers. The gargoyles are primarily decorative, and do not serve as water spouts as do those on many of the cathedrals of Europe. The original gargoyles placed on the Cathedral in 1917 weathered and eroded to the extent that hey were nonexistent by 1930. In the 1975 restoration, eight new steel-reinforced gargoyles, weighing 1,200 pounds each, were placed on the Cathedral. Each gargoyle, made by University of Utah art student Peter Cole, represents a petrified combination of a bird, a dog and a cat."   Go Peter Cole!

I am going to leave you with the spire over the alter in all its winter glory.