Pearls Before Breakfast

I ran into this story today and it really got to my heart strings.

January 12th, in the middle of morning rush hour, Joshua Bell performed
six classical pieces. 1,097 people passed by. Almost all of them on the way
to their morning jobs. They didn't know it but the musician they heard
was one of the most renowned violinist in the world.

He always performs with the same violin. And no other would do even
for this gig. It was handcrafted in 1713 out of the finest spruce, maple
and willow. Bell bought it a few years ago, the price tag at 3.5 million
dollars.{image}

Three days before doing his stunt in the Metro station, Joshua
Bell had filled the house at Boston's stately Symphony Hall, where
pretty good seats went for $100. But on this Friday, he was just another
performer competing for the attention of busy people on their way to work.

He started with what is considered one of the most difficult violin
pieces to master: Bach's "Chaconne." It is an exhausting 14 minutes
of single, succinct musical progression repeated in dozens of variations.
It is said to celebrate the breadth of human possibility. He clearly wasn't going
to cheap out of this performance. He played with gusto, his body leaning into
the music and arching on tiptoes at the high notes. The sound was symphonic.

Three minutes went by before something happened. 63 people had already
zipped on by when, finally there was a breakthrough of sorts. A man
altered his gait for a second, turned his head to notice that there was
some guy playing music. He kept walking, but it was something.
Things didn't get much better. In less than 3/4 an hour that Bell played,
seven people stopped what they were doing to hand around and take in the
performance, at least for a minute. 27 people gave money, most of them
on the run--for a total of $32 and change.

The one who paid the most attention was a 3 year old boy.
His mother tagged him along, hurried but the kid
stopped to look at the violinist. Finally the mother pushed hard and
the child continued to walk turning his head all the time. This action
was repeated by several other children.
All the parents, without exception, forced them to move on.

Bell afterward said that, "it was a strange feeling, that
people were actually, ah...ignoring me. At a music hall,
I'll get upset if someone coughs or it someone's cellphone goes off.
But here my expectation quickly diminished. I started to appreciate any
acknowledgment, even a slight glance up. I was oddly grateful
when someone threw a dollar instead of change."
This is from a man whose talent can command $1000 a minute.

What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
-W.H. Davies, "Leisure"

British author John Lane writes about the lost of appreciation
for beauty in the modern world. This experiement at the Metro
station may be symptomatic of that, he said -- not because people
didn't have the capacity to understand beauty,
but because it was irrelevant to them.

If we can't take the time out of our lives to stay a moment and listen
to one of the best musicians on Earth play some of the best music
every written; if the surge of modern life so overpowers us that we
are deaf and blind to something like that--then what else are we missing?

{Story found here.}

Chalk

It ain't summer till you can get out the chalk!
Really my job ain't bad sometimes.


In college,
I'd been flirting with this guy shamelessly for two weeks.
And when he finally asked me on a date, I was thrilled.
He called me the day of and told me that we were
going to go play with chalk and have a picnic.
I am one that is definitely okay with "kid" dates
on occasion. He picks me up and announces that we are
going to chalk it up all over BYU-I's campus.

Should have gone with my gut feeling and said something
about what a bad idea that was.
But I wanted to be cool.
We spent the majority of the date with campus security,
mops, and lots of weird looks from students.

And we never went out again.

{source}

I still like chalk.

Sunday's Thought and Picture

{image}

"Scientists can look at the rings of trees and make educated guesses about climate and growing conditions hundreds and even thousands of years ago. One of the things we learn from studying the growth of trees is that during seasons when conditions are ideal, trees grow at a normal rate. However, during seasons when growing conditions are not ideal, trees slow down their growth and devote their energy to the basic elements necessary for survival.

It is good advice to slow down a little, steady the course, and focus on the essentials when experiencing adverse conditions.When stress levels rise, when distress appears, when tragedy strikes, too often we attempt to keep up the same frantic pace or even accelerate, thinking somehow that the more rushed our pace, the better off we will be.

The wise understand and apply the lessons of tree rings. They resist the temptation to get caught up in the frantic rush of everyday life. They follow the advice “There is more to life than increasing its speed.” In short, they focus on the things that matter most.
We have to forego some good things in order to choose others that are better or best."

Of Things That Matter Most
Uchtodorf
{read the rest of this talk here}

Happy Sunday Lovelies!

Sunday's Thought and Picture

Second post today, but I needed to do my Sunday thought.
"Life is good, if we live in such a way to make it so.' . . . 'A good life' comes as a result of the way we do things, of the words we choose to say, and even of the kind of thoughts we choose to have."


Have a lovely Sunday all!

Sunday's Thought and Picture

I don't know where I got this poem but I love it.
It reminds me that life suffering is mandatory,
but misery and sorrow are optional.
Remember life is about rejoicing.
Happy Sunday to you all!
Luvs!

The Weaver

My life is but a weaving between my God and Me,
I cannot choose the colors He worketh steadily.

Ofttimes He weaveth sorrow, and I in foolish pride,
Forget that He seeth the upper, and I the underside.

Not till the loom is silent and the shuttles cease to fly.
Shall God unroll the canvas and explain the reason why.

The dark threads are as needful in the Weaver's skillful hand,
As the threads of gold and silver in the pattern He has planned.

He knows, He loves, He cares, nothing this truth can dim.
He gives His very best to those who leave the choice to Him.

I've Been Compared to a Ferrari

.... and I liked it!{image}

I like to think of myself as independent.
(A curse to my generation.)
So, I get a little upset when a man steps in to help
me carry the bags, open the door, and even get up off
the floor. I know that I should enjoy these things,
but I can't help myself when I assert firmly that
I can do it.

I got a chewing the other day for doing this very thing and
it made me very happy.

Mr. Wiggly-My-Toes and Make-Me-Really-Frustrated told me
to lay off. He said he knew that I was very capable of a great many
things and that opening the door and offering to help was not to be
taken that he thought of me as incapable of taking care of myself.
He said that he doesn't do nice things for me because I can't do them
for myself. He insisted that women aren't glass ornaments that men
need to take care of otherwise we'll break.
We are more like Ferrari's, a well designed and very capable,
fast machine that can take a dent as well
as another other car. But you treat a Ferrari nice because it
deserves special treatment.
Maybe even baby it. If you really like Ferrari's.

I am not a car person, but
I like that he opens my door, refuses to let me carry
anything if he isn't, and insists that I take his coat if I'm cold.
He makes me feel special, like a Ferrari.

Mini Art Show

I love art.

There is something so personal and challenging about it.
It makes me excited, happy, and very busy.
Memorizing numbers and vocabulary words is easy (personally),
but art offers a challenge that only the person
doing it can achieve. The only competition is with yourself.
And personal viewpoints and backgrounds only enhance
the work rather than deters from it.
Your art is your story. It comes only from you. You are the
person figuring out the puzzle and applying the meaning.
Isn't it so fun?

I think I seriously am going to have the best job in the world.
Who doesn't want to play with pencils, paint, and crafty stuff
all day? And I love the fact that I will maybe help others discover
their talents and what inspires them.
Yes, I am a crazy artist and I love it.

School has kept me very, very busy.
There is my final work sample portfolio that I've been stressing
over for the last month. It has to include a unit with 6-7 lesson plans,
assessments, adaptations, students work, and resources. I've
been scanning, printing, photographing, writing, stressing, organizing,
stressing, and perfecting this thing for the big day where I go in
front of a panel of professors and present it. And then they decide
based on it and my teaching whether I can be a teacher.
It is FINALLY done though. (Clap, please.)
I feel very accomplished, proud, and ready.

But my real pride is my students. They keep me on
my toes. Some days I come home thinking there is no way in
heavens I can do this. WHAT IN THE WORLD WAS I THINKING!
They are crazy, wild, uncooperative, and frustrating.
But then there are the rewarding days where I see them
break through a problem and feel good about what they have done.
I see them take pride in their work.
I see them try their best.
The days where I help them see the world a little different
are the bomb-diggity.
They make the crazy days worth it.

I'd thought I would show you a mini art show of some
of the more recent projects we have been working on.

Student Artwork:

Scratch art is where you scratch off the black to present
another color underneath. Students studied negative and
positive shapes. I wished these would photography better,
but the silver is so shiny I keep getting a glare.

I
I loved doing the wire sculptures.
They turned out so cool. I wish the pictures were better.

Last are the tape sculptures that go up tomorrow.
Students had to wrap themselves in tape to create life size
sculptures of themselves and make an installation in the school.
It is fun just to see the process.
I'll show you the final results when we get them up.

I wish I could have taken pictures of everything.
My classes are so good.

I will assure you there is more to come.

Quote This.

Try to make at least three people smile everyday.

Realize that life is school and you are here to learn. Problems
are simply part of the curriculum that appear and fade away
like algebra class, but the lessons you learn will last a lifetime.

Life isn't fair, but it is good.
Life is too short to waste time hating someone.

Don't take yourself too seriously. No one else does.

Don't compare your life to others. You have no idea what their
journey is all about.

What other people think of you is none of your business."Simplicity is pure sophistication."

Someone Worth Thinking About

In grade school we had to make paper-mache masks of

famous people and do a little presentation on them.

My person has been in my thoughts recently.
She grew up in an entirely different part of the world than I in
Yugoslavia. She was a Catholic nun who lived in poverty in India.
And among the riches of the world, in a glittering hall of velvet, gold,
and crystal, among people dressed in tuxes and elaborate gowns,
she was honored in her simple sari and sandals for simply doing the
best she knew how in the place she found herself.
Mother Teresa, servant of the poor, sick, and dying, received the longest
standing ovation in the history of the Nobel Peace Prize.
She had the best weapon against the evil and heartache of the world:
a deep, caring, trusting heart.
And the biggest riches, far beyond the wealth of nations:
a loving, giving spirit.

"We can do no great things;
only small things with great love."

"If you can't feed a hundred people, then feed just one. "

"We shall never know all the good that a simple smile can do.
Peace begins with a smile. "

I struggle with trying to understand my importance, she
never questioned it, just continued to change the world.
I wish for things I don't have, she used everything she had
to do what she could do at the moment.

Peace, love, happiness all these things aren't
something you wish for. They are things you have to make;
they are the things you do; they are who you are;
and they are things we help others achieve.

You begin now. You work with what you have.
And you pass it on.

We can all learn a little from Mother Teresa.
She is someone to think about.

Don't Call Boys: Mom's Golden Rule

Let me tell you about dating.

(Well at least about dating after you haven't been dating for awhile because, you know,

you've been married.)

It's awkward.

I feel like I'm lying to the guy. But honestly, when do you tell

someone that you messed up your life. And who honestly wants

to be dating a girl who drags on and on about her heart breaking.

But I am dating now, and I have to remind myself of something

that I believe in but struggle with.

I believe that the man must be the one asking you on the

date and essentially be the one pursuing the woman.

(the old-fashion type of relationship)

When I was in sixth grade I called Ryan E. (definitely someone I had a

crush on) because we were planning to surprise our teacher with a party.

Although the phone call started as strictly business,

I wasn't going to let an opportunity to talk to the oh so popular Ryan E.

go. Nope, I took full advantage. I kept that poor boy on the phone as

long as I could.

However, when mom found out I got the "do-not-call-boys

lecture" (it was short but affective) and for the most part that has worked really well.

I've forgotten that lesson.
I set up the sweet swaps. I call when I want someone to go with me somewhere.

I text when I want them to know I'm thinking of them.

And I definitely think of some of the most creative schemes to get in the

same room as the man I'm semi-stalking. I am aggressive and I think it

is wrong! I make it too easy on men. And to be perfectly honest, I think my

whole generation does.

I'm not suggesting that we become sticks in the mud. No,

flirt away, make your interests known discreetly. Just don't be the

first to make the move.

I think men have become lazy. They can rely

on us to pick up the slack and tell them when they should be

getting together with us again. We don't even give them a chance to lead out.

Don't we want a man who is going to have the guts to chase after us?

And its sad when we have church leaders giving talks about the

definition of a date verses "hanging out."

No, we shouldn't want to "hang out."

No, we don't want to have intelligent conversations be through texting.

We want to be dated and courted. It doesn't even have to be fancy.

Do you realize that by enabling these men through the dating

experience you are going to be dealing with that through marriage as well?

(And then you get the title of the nagging wife.)

Let the men have a little ambition and put forth a little effort.

I like a man who plans the date beforehand, opens the car door, and

calls soon afterwards to say how great I am and that he wants to do it

again. I want to make a comeback of MEN and chivalry and the go-get-em attitude.

This time, you won't find me calling boys.

{image}

Though I might change my mind if I had a cool phone like this.

Larry Walters' Can Fly!

Yes, sometimes I get lonely. And sometimes I cry really, really hard.

But for the most part I'm happy. And I want to remain that way.

I consider myself a bouncer. And this is a happy post filled with what

I would consider happy, inspiring thoughts.

This photo happens to be my new computer background. Besides

just being really cool, its got a really cool story to go with it.

Once upon a time there was a man named Larry Walters. Larry was

a truck driver who had never been able to fulfil his dream of being a pilot

due to his poor eyesight. I am sure Larry sat around on his lawn chair

for several years feeling sorry for himself. When one day Larry decided

enough was enough. He hooked up 45 helium filled weather balloons to

his lawn chair, grabbed a pellet gun, a PBJ, and a six pack of beer and

shot up to sixteen thousand feet. I can imagine his feeling of exhilaration.

Sixteen thousand feet in a lawn chair over Los Angeles!

Unfortunately, he drifted into the primary approach corridor of Long

Beach Airport. Yes, Larry was in trouble. After about 45 minutes in the

air he shoot down several balloons with his gun before accidentally dropping

it overboard and landed on some power lines. This blacked out an entire

neighborhood. The FAA (Federal Aviation Administration) fined him

$1,500 and cited him for "operating a civil aircraft for which there is not

currently in effect an airworthiness certificate."

You know what he said when asked why he did it?

This is good.

"A man can't just sit around."

Ada boy Larry.

Larry did without knowing what would happen. He did it despite

the dangers and his poor eyesight and people telling him no.

His message from 16,000 feet up was: "I did it! I'm flying."
Most of us do just sit around dreaming, wishing, hoping, and

waiting for the good things to come our way.
And then there are those few who find ways to make their dreams

work. There are those who have the spirit to do that which is scary, and

deemed impossible.

What kind of person are you?

The COW Story (involving poop)

The sun was setting behind me. The colors blending in with the cloud

of dust from my tires as I speed along the dirt road. I stuck my hand out

of the window making an airplane and letting the wind blow it up and down.
It's harvest time!

All day long there is the sound of machines going in the fields. A fleet of trucks

run along the roads taking wheat, barley, and oats to their rightful places. The

sticky hotness and the itchy cloud of grain dust penetrate the air. It is

definitely miserable. But I love it. I didn't always.

Living on a farm sounds romantic and appeasing. Let me tell you it isn't.

When I was younger I hated the farm with a PASSION. I wanted to live

in a big city full of culture and art. I loved art. However, I was stuck in a town

where the nearest thing that could be called artistic was a cattle brand.

When I applied for college I was required to write an essay addressing

the question of why the college should choose me over other applicants.

I told them a story:

It was a stormy day. Actually, it had been raining for about three days.

Dad hauled my little brother and me out of the house to sort out

some cows that needed to go to auction.

We chased them down the alleyway into the sorting corral.

I grabbed the gate and was using it to push the cows in. All of a sudden I

was on my back as one of the mothering heifers kicked the gate right into my

forehead and sent me flying onto the ground. Let me remind you it

had been raining all week and so, yes, I was covered head (including hair) to

foot in slimy, oozy COW POOP!!!

{image via}

I just laid there stunned; cows running all around me

taking advantage of the open gate. I got slowly up. Waddled over to dad,

holding back my tears asked if I could please go home. "Nope," he said.

" We have to finish the job." So I stayed. Miserable to the bone. Hair

matted to my head with poop. Crusty. Stinky. Wet. And we finished the job.

I told those big college people that I would be that way the rest of my life.

I would stay until the job was done.

And so... in two days I move.

I move to a new town, a new job, and a new life.

I'm starting my student teaching. Starting the beginning of "being cultured."

And you know what I think I'm going to miss the most: home.

I'll be packing now.

Thought:

Sometimes there is nothing better than a man hug.

Period.

It's a Universal Truth...

that all driver's licenses are terrible.

Today I got my third license in a year (that's a different story that someday I'll tell)

and it is the worst! I tried extremely hard to be cute. I was determined to look

at least normal. I wore my favorite shirt and did my hair as cute as I could.

But the camera again conquered me.

Hair= not bad.

Squinty eyes= ugh!

See the clenched smile= not normal, kind of sinister.

Chin= I look like my brother.

And who sees my driver's license? Police who have the ability to make me

poorer than I am. (Did I tell you all that I have to buy a new car?) I always hope if I

look pleasant they will be nicer. (Not going to work with this lovely card.)

I hate getting pulled over.

I hate the chills down my back seeing those lights. I hate how awkward it is.

I hate the agonizing wait seeing if they are going to punish me; and coupled

with the flashing lights blinding me and everyone whose passing looking

through the window to see if they know me, makes it miserable.

"Hey everyone! Yes, I got in trouble. Move along now."

So, what I really meant to ask:

As anyone ever had a good driver's license?

When I was 18

I always thought that the perfect age was 18. And when we

died we would be 18 in heaven for eternity.

I waited and waited to be 18. It was the age where magical things

happened. All my Barbies were 18 and they got to go to college,

met "real men," drive their own car, and eat sausages and ice cream

for dinner if they wanted to.

First night at college with my first ever roommates. Me= Nerd at the top.

Truth? I didn't know anything when I was 18. I thought it was the

age where you were young enough to still be considered young and fun,

but old enough to be solidly an adult. It was all about freedom and
being carefree.

My roommates and I freshman year "popcorning" someone at 4 in the morning. Me= Right

Drinking too much sparkling cider. Me= far left.

Me at 18 was insecure. I cried a lot and did some crazy things.

And I didn't have money to buy sausage or drive my own car.

But college seemed a lot more exciting when I was 18. I took life by the

horns and tried to shake all the fun out of it.

And yes at 18, I gained the famous "Freshman 15,"
although for me it was 20.

My roomate and I polishing off a 10 lb cake on a very depressing night.
As I got older, I found myself most night with so much homework that "going out" was not an option. I ate too much Ramen and studied too hard. I was a boring college student bent on getting my A's.

But I like myself more now than I did at 18. I know myself a little better.

Maybe I'm a little more mature.

Maybe not.

I do however have more curves to show off and I do eat sausage when I want to. And my car died last week.

I now believe strongly that the perfect age will be 24. I'll have a real job, be a successful, and maybe get rid of my lazy tendencies. And I'll be shaking those horns again, but a little bit more responsible.

Guess I'll tell you how that goes when I get there.

*I lied. That last picture isn't me now. I was 20. It just makes me laugh every time I see it. Enjoy!

Relationships

I promise this is not a craft blog-- it just happens to be the

only thing I'm doing lately. I had to really talk myself out of posting

another DIY, but I promise it is coming and everyone should be

so excited! Its my favorite thus far.

My thoughts have been mulling over an odd quote from a movie I watched yesterday. The character claimed that hell would be being locked in a room with another person who know everything about you, especially that which is worst about you, for all eternity.

It seems we are constantly trying to get people to understand our point of view. Yet, it is still scary knowing that someone could find out the deepest, darkest secrets of our soul. And knowing everything about us could someone really understand us, our thoughts and actions, and still love/respect us? To trust another person is a scary concept, but one each of us must face in life. The results are sometimes pleasant and other times heartbreaking and life alternating. You have to take a mighty risk and HOPE that they won't take advantage of your vulnerability. It is tragic when that hope dies-- similar to a death of a loved one.

It would be so great to rid ourselves of every negative thought, every jealous tendency, and overcome all ignorance. It would seem great to rid ourselves of everything bad and replace it with trust, happiness, compassion, and love. However, I believe that everyone is going to hurt you in some way. The challenge is find those who are worth suffering through the pain for. Life would be too dull if it was perfect. Without pain we would not be able to experience true joy. Opposition gives us perceptive--without the bad there would be no good.

Keep hoping, keep trying, keep experiencing those things that are hard but make us better people in the long run.

And I know heaven will be a better place then hell.

{image}

Monday's Musings

1. Sometimes I hide from people I know. I don't know why.

2. I find it oddly satisfying to pop zits.

3. I love mozzarella cheese! I probably eat too much of it.

And whenever I have a grilled cheese sandwich I always

put pickles in it. It reminds me of my Pa and so yummy besides.

4. When I'm too quiet I get mad at myself.

5. Someday I am going to watch Toy Story 3.

6. Spending money is sometimes the only way I feel better

about life.

7. I wish I was more patient.

8. I'm finding out that men/boys can be very predictable.

9. I think all first kisses are awful. I am still looking for someone

to tell me a good first kiss story.

10. I've been painting.

{image}

Sometimes I Try and Think Deeply

I hate feeling self-pity. It is a disgusting monster that sucks the life out of a person.Life isn’t the easiest right now and I hate complaining about it because I know it is due to my own folly. I happen to be in a transition period, trying to adjust to a new label that has been placed upon me. I don’t want to be defined by my past, but ultimately this is the path I’ve chosen and the consequences I have to live with. Contrary to what I'd like to believe, problems are not imposed upon me by life-circumstances that happen at random. They occur as a combination of situations that grow out of a series of choices. And usually at the end, I can see how wrong my thinking was and how naively I entered into hurtful circumstances. How I wish for a time machine to go back and correct my life.

The bottom line is that we all learn through experiences. It doesn’t matter how hard they were and how painful the learning process, it is the only way we would have truly known. So while I chaff under the judgments of others, I am grateful for the knowledge I’ve gained, the pain I experience, and the help of true friends and a loving family.

There is a powerful quote by Hugh Nibley that I love:

“If every choice I make expresses a preference; if the world I build up is the world I really love and want, then with ever choice I am judging myself, proclaiming all the day long to God, angels and my fellowmen where my real values lie, where my treasure is, the things to which I give supreme importance.”

How easily we get stuck on the petty problems in our lives and shut out all the wonderful things of which we are capable of. How easily we convince ourselves to take the path of lesser pain that ultimately leads to a sinkhole. Life is what we make out of it. We have been blessed beyond capacity for deeper intelligence, thought, and enlargement.

How excited does this make you?

Our search for knowledge should be ceaseless for we never know enough. So while life is tough right now, I’m going to accept the problems and the heartache on my journey.

Sometimes I just need to remind myself it's worth it.