i learned to understand Cezanne much better and to see truly how he made landscapes when i was hungry

i ate a bagel instead of going out that night. i didn't want to be wasteful and i had already bought a ticket for the show. any monetary sacrifice would have been well-spent in order to see the dancers that night. it was better to watch when i was hungry anyway.

"all the paintings were shapened and clearer and more beautiful if you were belly-empty, hollow-hungry" -- Hemingway

i hadn't realized how hungry i was inside - hungry for beauty, hungry for perspective. even in my average student-dom, i find myself detached from things that i used to love only to discover it on an empty stomach. it's funny, but i seem to discover my ipod every other week and realize a forgotten life i once had. i mean, i used to love that song and now i don't even know where it is. when i am not constantly around certain beauties - such as dance, music, trees - my appreciation for the sight and sound of them is exponentially greater. watching the dancers was no exception. i had fasted for so long to experience the catharsis that i only get when i watch someone dance. it is second only to being the dancer.

i insisted that my friend give me the one balcony ticket - i love to watch the dancers from up there - and i often like to go to concerts alone. i sat on the edge of the row and spent the night shifting my view around the big person in front of me - my eyes bright and hungry. i think i cried three times. the adagio to Samuel Barber's piece... you had to be there. and the dancers' company had a pas de deux to Neil Diamond. seriously. i was moved because i realized i wanted love.

the girl next to me probably thought i was over-the-top. i smiled at the cute and comedic, nodded my head with approval at a clean succession of turns, whispered "wow" when i thought something was really great, and scribbled notes onto my program in the dark.

i noticed the themes that each company brings to the stage - which as far as i can tell, stay constant with each year. the dancers' company brings soul, weight and farce. the ballet company brings showy solos and sadness. the cougarettes bring intensity and synchronized spirituality. the folk dancers, a show-stopper and sincerety.

an hour later in my law school carrell, i closed my eyes to think. the dancers were there, behind my eyelids. i had brought them with me and they were dancing.

i'd be a lot more productive if i didn't have the internet

-Bryan, BYU Student.

I complete relate, Bryan. You are not alone.

eve's surprise

tuesday night in the wilk. i'm walking back from a ward council meeting and i have an umbrella because it had been raining earlier and a sprite because at ward council they had given us pizza and psychologically i couldn't eat the pizza without imagining having soda with it too. so, my psychological pizza weirdness moved me, my legs, my umbrella, and my wallet to the express store in the middle of the cougareat for one of those low cal bottles of sprite.

i had seen my roommate, eve, in the wilk on my way to the meeting. she was studying in memory hall because it was so peaceful. i didn't anticipate seeing her on the way back, but she was still there - the fantastic eve who is everything mutlicultural. no multicultural student gets past her radar so i wasn't surprised to see her with a group of people, from i'm-not-sure-but-probably-international-origin, who had been at the latin dance night. i was delighted to see her. familiarity almost always makes me feel better about the world.

we hugged and chit-chatted. she asked if i was hungry and i said "nah, i just had some pizza. and i've got this." i lifted up my sprite bottle. she asked me humbly (eve always asks humbly) if she could have some. i handed it to her and she put it to her mouth. the next moment, she was giggling and a couple feet from where she commenced drinking, waving her hand in very eve-ish gestures and exclaiming in her musical hawaiin accent, "wow! holy cow, man! i had no idea that was soda! i thought that was water!" i laughed at this, though still a little apprehensive, just in case she was one of those fanatical health people who doesn't drink soda because it will stop your heart or something. but, to my relief, she was rather delighted. and so was i.

that experience was one that simply cannot be re-created. with no foreknowledge that what she was about to drink was a tingling, eye-watering sensation, she dove in like it was water. her response: pure surprise. i mean, she had no inkling - like what you get when your birthday is close and your friends want to take you to someone else's house to help with "homework." eve's experience was of complete, bewildering, delightful, perfect unexpectedness. i wonder how similar Mother Eve's experience was to this. did the fruit taste a million times more awesome than that everyday fruit she'd been eating? considering my role in this situation, i prefer not to push the analogy too far. but i will say:

may we all have some sprite when we think it's water moments todayand often.

an "F" for finished...for now

graduation, commencement, pomp and circumstance.

overrated? maybe. my feelings are so mixed. i went to an honors banquet and felt like a total poser, even though my mom kept assuring me that she was so proud. the kid that got up to speak started out by saying that when he got to BYU, he was worried that his teachers wouldn't give him enough homework. my exact thoughts: you have GOT to be kidding me! man, thank GOODNESS the honors program gives enough homework. what WOULD we have done?

and then, when the professor of the year, who i love by the way (especially because he put a plug in for j-dawgs and that changed my life), said, "you will use you MIND" very deliberately and pointed to his head....just like jack black in school of rock....and my mom and i almost lost it...because we were totally thinking about that moment, i thought this experience couldn't get any crazier. but, then we got focused and enjoyed a very nice luncheon. my old mish companion,eve, played the piano and that was a highlight. (chopin nocturne. ah!)

then i'm sitting at commencement a couple of hours later. the irony is that i'm studying calculus. i had my last final to take. so, as they are congratulating everyone on being "done," i'm cramming differential equations. watching all of the professors walk in reminded me of when i was about nine and we went to my dad's ph.D graduation. it also reminded me of "goodbye mr. chips." i love that movie. i used to be star-struck by this sight. these robed celebrities were my idols. i loved the officialness of it all and the pomp definitely was appealing.

was it strange, then, that this time it just looked like a bunch of people dressed up like harry potter characters? it is like my whole perspective of this ordeal had totally changed. i should have more respect for the institution of education and academia. but, i realized that I was sitting there in a robe and i'm just a plain-jane-nobody-special. we are all people and all have insecurities and probably like to watch "the office." it was like i had to grow out of the way i used to think about academia. what are these honors anyway? the worth of the experience depends on so many things. and "who you are" is ultimately not determined by these things.

well, anyway, coming to an end of a chapter is interesting because it makes you consider where you stand and where you stood. after many mixed feeling, the feeling that i got as i sat in the marriott center today on a bench behind the big backdrop was gratitude. i am sooooo grateful. for byu, for my parents, and for faithful tithe payers who made my experience possible.

and this gratitude is why i'm going back.

and going forth.

God is good

I know it. For some reason, He just keeps sending goodness to me. Constantly. I don't know why, He just blesses me.

I am so grateful.

And a shout out to my good earthly parents too. They are so amazing. And my roommates too. They are so cool. And my missionary district. And my visiting teacher/ees. And my friends in Jamestown 27 and the waffles they made.

I'm also grateful for rides, green arrows,
the Olympics and national flags, wireless internet,
Shauna Barrick,
CNN on occasion, chocolate cake,
Sundays, Provo temple,
hands,
Asians,
being asked to dance by my little brother,
Wendy's run with Kira last night, Debussy,
Emma and her hilariousness,
the bench outside, Relief Society,
an open door,
everything Rachel Kessler,
and the CD that The Mollies sent especially for me with Mindy tonight.

oh

and i have a post i really want to write about the fourth of july, but that will have to wait for now. it is pretty amusing. at least i think so. perceptions about America are just so interesting - and i'd love to hear yours soon. but, do, do enjoy the poetry below. it's nice.

miles to go before i sleep

It is certainly not snowing right now in Utah and I am actually not very near the woods, but the last stanza of this poem kept coming to my mind today. I've concluded that I, in fact, really like Robert Frost. I just do.

My dad used to always say the last two lines of this poem to me when I was working on a big project for school. Today is no exception - big projects, especially papers, are my intellectual bane. I'd much rather write mindless posts and eat sorbet, but whatever. My grandpa reminded me of the third to last line this morning over a bowl of cereal, (I attempted hermitage today by going to my grandparent's to work on my project, but I guess hermitage is supposed to be in solitude. I'd much rather have company though.), and I thought it fitting to my current position in life. I think it is simply a lovely poem and it has the musicality of a snowy evening, a quiet wood, and heavy thoughts.

Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

-Robert Frost