An Eater's Manifesto

I love Michael Pollan's thought: "Eat Food. Mostly Plants. Not Too Much."

In Defense of Food is definitely on my list of books to read in the near future.

But today I am coming up with my own manifesto.

{Sit down.

Eat slowly.

There is no need for dessert with every meal.}

Three simple rules I am trying to live by.

What is your food manifesto?

swimming

This week I get to play catch up on all the responsibilities I skipped out on last week. Which means taking a test, learning at least a minute of a Viennese Waltz routine, relearning the foxtrot, loads of reading, and thinking of ideas for a commercial.

Oh well.

My room is clean.

My bed is made.

And I'm ready to conquer the world.

{Last week at this time, I was walking around the financial district, eating pizza at Grimaldi's and feeling like a real advertiser. I feel like I understand just a tiny bit how people who come back from study abroad feel. I feel no shame in saying I lived in Harlem for six days, and I'm allowed to miss it just a bit.

Someday, NYC, I'll be back.}

"The Ladder": Some Kind of Story, Part Five

She stood with two feet barely

Balancing on the knobby, uneven roots

Of the skyscraper of a maple in her backyard

Her eyes drew a line

From trunk to tip

Where green fades into blue

So many branches,

And she’d never been very good

At making decisions

He offered his hand to help her

Up to the thick, stable arm just above her fingertips

“I can do it myself,” she countered.

But he said, “Yes you can,

But you don’t need to.”

twenty-two

I'm back from New York.

Back to my own bed.

Back to {trying} to eat normally and not spend all my money on hot dogs and bagels.

Back to school.

Back to real life.

Back to doing my hair {maybe} and not living out of a suitcase.

I'm happy to be back.

But I'm definitely going to miss my east coast almost home. Even if it was only for 6 days.

I'll miss street food.

I'll miss feeling like I can spend as much as I want.

I'll miss the subway.

Oh and today, well, it's my birthday. The big 22. Which really isn't as old as it sort of feels right now.

But 21 was a great year.

And I'm looking forward to discovering the 22 year old version of myself.

Here's to life.

image via deviantart

new york

I wish I could post the few pictures I took (never been much of a picture taker, more of a picture moocher), but I don't have a camera cord with me so no luck.

This trip has been incredible. So enlightening.

When I first got to the city, I expected to be overwhelmed. with excitement. just high on life.

And I was.

But mostly, I just felt right at home.

I felt like, yeah, I could live here.

It felt comfortable and almost familiar.

Not in the sense that I'd been here before, because I haven't.

More like I felt confident in my abilities to get around and survive in the crazy concrete jungle.

I'll definitely have to write a more detailed post of what we did each day, but this is just a smattering of thoughts and reflections about the trip.

For now though,

Three things I loved:

-yummy bagels

-Shake Shack (!!)

-oddly enough, the subway. (what can I say, I'm a sucker for efficient mass transit)

Three things I didn't love so much:

-sharing a bathroom with about 20 girls

-the elevators at subway stations. they smell like urine.

-the stress of coordinating 28 opinions. love the group. just not the stress.

I will say that when we visited Wieden + Kennedy, it confirmed my thoughts that working at Wieden in Portland is my dream job.

Their culture just seems so perfect for me.

I'll write more later.

But New York, it's been great. So thanks.

these lights will inspire you

I just got chills realizing that, this week, I'll be checking #6 off this list.

I've daydreamed about soaking up those big city lights since at least the first time I saw You've Got Mail.

But probably before that.

On the list of things I really want to do are, among other things:

Eating at least one hot dog every single day.

Eating legit New York pizza (my jersey girl roommate raves about it)

Finding a free concert.

Mets game.

Broadway!

Pretend like every night is my birthday.**

And, most importantly: live and breathe the world of advertising. visit big agencies, and little boutiques. take copious notes in the new journal I just bought, and soak up as much knowledge about this industry as my mind can contain.

And I just might buy myself a bouquet of freshly sharpened pencils.

**Because, oh yeah, the day after we get back I turn 22. Madness.

I won't have a ton of extra time, apart from the business of Advertising Week, but if you only had one day to do whatever you wanted in NYC, how would you spend it?

image via google

Peter

Peter has always been one of my favorite apostles.

Maybe that's because I can see a bit of myself in him.

He had such incredible faith, and wanted to defend the Lord at whatever cost.

But he is so perfectly imperfectly human.

Because sometimes he made mistakes.

And fell short of his own hopes.

And maybe got a little scared.

And had doubts.

But he was devoted and tried so hard.

He acted on his faith. He lived faithfully and passionately and loved the Lord with all his heart.

And I think he was stronger than he gave himself credit for. He had faith in the Savior, but maybe not always faith in himself.

St. John 21: 7-8 (emphasis added)

7 Therefore that disciple whom Jesus loved saith unto Peter, It is the Lord. Now when Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he girt his fisher’s coat unto him, (for he was naked,) and did cast himself into the sea.

8 And the other disciples came in a little ship; (for they were not far from land, but as it were two hundred cubits,) dragging the net with fishes.

I love that.

He knew.

And he ran to Him.

That's all there is to it.

image via this*

*The painting is from James Tissot's exhibit, "The Life of Christ". It's a beautiful collection of images from the Savior's life. And I especially loved this image of Peter. It just shows how excited and anxious he is to see the Savior. And it seems that he has no doubt that the Savior has returned.

this lovely little poem has been running through my head all day:

I went to a release party for a creative writing journal last night, and I heard the author read this poem.

It was lovely.

And so simple.

And I wanted to share it.

Because I've been thinking about it all day.

And I want to be able to write like this.

So here it is.
Go check it out.

image credit to this little blog.
there are some lovely pictures of food, and delicious-looking recipes. I'll definitely have to try some of them.

Letters to Strangers

I have always loved sending and receiving mail.

Snail mail.

I love papers and cards and stamps and envelopes and wax seals and everything associated with the handwritten word.

For my creative concepts class assignment I was asked to do something I'd never done before.

So I wrote ten little letters.

And found ten addresses, courtesy of the Provo white pages.

For ten strangers.

I wrote a favorite quote on one side, and on the other, some kind of blurb that came out of my head.

A list.

A rambling of scattered thoughts.

A someday inspirational quote.

And maybe these people will hate what I wrote. Or throw it away without even reading it.

But I hope not. I hope that it's one less thing to vent about that day.

I learned that creativity doesn't have to be elaborate, or perfectly organized, or perfect at all. If you wait for it to be perfect, or to have all the right tools, you will never get anything done.

picture taken by my roommate

Love is Not Blind

"Some stupid people started the idea that because women obviously back up their own people through everything, therefore women are blind and do not see anything. They can hardly have known any women. The same women who are ready to defend their men through thick and thin...are almost morbidly lucid about the thinness of [their] excuses or the thickness of [their] head[s]. Love is not blind; that is the last thing it is. Love is bound, and the more it is bound, the less it is blind." (G.K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy)

I just read this speech and I loved it. It's a little long, but definitely worth the time.

It's interesting to think about the different attitudes people have about life and how it's not bad to understand the difference between reality and the ideal, but there must be a balance in order to achieve real happiness.

manifesto for the school year

"Confront the dark parts of yourself, and work to banish them with illumination and forgiveness. Your willingness to wrestle with your demons will cause your angels to sing. Use the pain as fuel, as a reminder of your strength."

-August Wilson

There are some things I feel like I've slacked on this summer.

Not that this summer was a failure.

Not at all.

But I feel like I was just so busy and caught up in the many things I was doing (good things, mind you), that I lost a little bit of who I am.

Just a little bit.

I slacked off a little bit in some things that are important to me.

Just a little bit.

This is not me ragging on myself or moping about the past.

This is just me recommitting to a life I love.

A life that is full of passion and character and a few blue recycling bins.

A life of living the principle that less is more.

And that books and music and writing and good quality entertainment are not a waste of time.

That these books mean so much more when I'm not half-asleep.

That playing is just as important to my health as working.

And that learning is a privilege, not a burden.

So I'm going to unpack the boxes in my room, and figure out what to keep, what to get rid of and what to put away until I decide how important it is to me.

And recommit to loving the life God gave me. And remembering what is important.

image from this fabulous girl

"i have measured out my life with coffee* spoons"

For my creative writing class, we are asked to keep a journal and read two poems a day.
I came across the poem "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" by T.S. Eliot and loved it.

"There will be time, there will be time

To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;

There will be time to murder and create,

And time for all the works and days of hands

That lift and drop a question on your plate;

Time for you and time for me,

And time yet for a hundred indecisions,

And for a hundred visions and revisions,

Before the taking of a toast and tea."

It so perfectly describes the stresses of life, while assuring the reader that, "there will be time."

*though I don't drink coffee myself, i love coffee shops, really good hot cocoa, and this line of the poem.

image via deviantart

Open for Discussion

I've been thinking lately about natural dispositions.

How the mood people generally wake up in is different for everyone.

Curious, pensive, optimistic, ANNOYED, content.

And how sometimes a person's natural disposition colors the way they look to you. The way you think about them. How much you enjoy spending time with them, or what sorts of things you enjoy doing with them.

Because I think people are usually more beautiful when they are happy.

And I'm curious what others' thoughts are about this subject.

I'm curious what my natural disposition is, what other people see it as, and what I think it is.

And if the two differ.

So tell me your thoughts.

About yourself.

About me.

About your friends.

About the subject in general.

"I am determined to be cheerful and happy in whatever situation I may find myself. For I have learned that the greater part of our misery or unhappiness is determined not by our circumstance but by our disposition."

Martha Washington

"Let all your things be done with charity." {1 Corinthians 16:14}

i've been thinking a lot about understanding people.

and how it takes knowing someone for longer than a day, or a month, or a year, or even a lifetime, to really understand the ins and outs of who they are and why they are who they are.

there is always more to learn about someone.

new ways to love them.

better perspective.

i've been thinking a bit about how everyone is different.

and everyone has different struggles.

and i've realized that the things that come naturally for me, don't always come naturally for others.

honestly, i hadn't really thought about that before.

and i've been feeling pretty grateful.

for all i have been blessed with.

which is a lot.

and i think this understanding that people are different only increases my love for them.

because it's nice to remember that i'm not the only one who isn't perfect.

and that we're all trying.

and fighting our different battles.

and that, in the end, it's not about winners or losers.

it's about who is still standing on the battle field, when the war is finally over,

and there is finally peace on earth.

"Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil; rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things. Charity never faileth..."

1 Corinthians 13:4-8

image via deviantart

i don't wanna sit on the pavement while you fly, but I will*

Sometimes you just have to throw your hair up into a messy bun,
and shrug off the world,

and realize that no matter what is driving you absolutely mad right now,

There is always new air to breathe tomorrow.

image via sabino

*ingrid, you rock. that's all.

long time coming

" She leaned over to him and said, 'we've been in love for so long.'
He said, 'you're the only girl I've ever loved, and I've loved you since I was 15.' "

Congratulations to my friends Kortney and Clayton!
(they got married on Friday)

If you ask me, they've been made for each other since they were in high school, and I'm so happy for them.

nothing wrong with a little change

Love-to-be:

Please choose your occupation because it's something you love, not simply because it will make you loads of money.

I've told you before, it's not about the money.

I will love you just as much for your passion for what you do as for the inventive ways we will stretch our dollars.

Love it enough to do it for 20, 30 or 40 years, but love me enough to let it mellow into a conversation topic when you come home.

Let it be your profession, your passion, but not your life.

I always admire men who choose a career that may not be the most financially cushy, but that is something they truly enjoy.

So. Whatever you choose to do, do it with passion.

There is absolutely nothing wrong with being a doctor or a lawyer or even an advertising man. There is no reason you should feel guilty for making six figures. That would just give us more opportunities to do good, and I would love that.

All of this is just to say that if what acts as your figurative cup of coffee in the morning is the thought of teaching 17-year olds about The Cold War or mitosis or Shakespeare, we will be just fine.

We'll live in a small*, older house, with chipped paint and a kitchen table we'll refinish ourselves.

We'll find adventures in weekend camping trips and coveted nights out, but mostly in good conversation and great food.

Made by yours truly, of course.

We'll learn to save our pennies and nickels and dimes and when we finally have enough to take that big trip to Europe or South America or Africa that we've always wanted to take, we'll appreciate it that much more.

So, dear, do what you love, love what you do, and love me too.

*I don't much care for housework, anyway. So, in my opinion, the less house to clean, the better.

image via deviantart

Some Kind of Story, Part Four

She remembered a time when all it took to make her swoon was an acoustic guitar and letting a boy teach her how to play the first few bars of "Smoke on the Water."

A time before drum sets and the boys that sat behind them.

A time when butterflies were triggered by rainy day love songs and that spunk and confidence that always seems to come with being a musician.

She remembered a time when unpredictable was exciting and returned affection was maybe too much to take.

But now she dreams of bare feet on hardwood floors and mortgage payments and disagreements over paint colors.

A life that, though imperfect, will be perfect for her.

And butterflies that never get old.

solitary soul

Things I love doing by myself*:

-watching movies

-shopping...because I can take my time

-getting lost in a used bookstore

-reading one of those used books, while drinking hot cocoa with a shot of hazelnut at a quaint little coffee shop.
-learning about the wonders (and not so pretty aspects) of mass transit

Next week I am going home for my friends' wedding (two friends from high school who are getting married to each other), and I get to explore the wonderful city of Portland.

I'm getting into the city in the morning, but I'm not meeting up with friends until afternoon or evening.

But, you see, I planned this.

I love exploring new places, and don't mind doing that by myself at all.
I fully plan on getting lost in Powell's City of Books for at least two hours.

After which, I will probably meander over to Mio Gelato for a bambino of donatella gelato.

I want to find a great place for lunch. I'm thinking maybe Indian food.

I'll probably spend some time at Oblation Papers & Press and Everyday Music.

But, most of all, I hope to find a new favorite place to visit when I go to Portland. A bakery, or restaurant, or record store.

And I hope to feel a bit more like a city girl, and a little bit more like a more grown up.

image via google

*this is not to say that I don't enjoy doing these things with other people.

I only wanna break break oh break break breakdown.

To do list for this week:

Stay alive.

Keep breathing.

Learn to juggle.

image via deviantart