So this is a world without government...

^^THIS is whatever.

^^THIS is fine.

 ^^ NOW YOU GO TOO FAR.

Hundreds of Peaches, peaches for me...

I really love the fall. Post-graduation life means that the transition from summer to fall was subtle because my time is still so utterly unstructured and I didn't get new pencils and new teachers and a new crush (the little love I'm harboring now has been around a while...) Well, my early morning summer hikes with my Dad have spilled over into the fall as well and the other morning as we were walking we came upon a peach orchard in the middle of a construction site. The trees were laden with fruit that was clearly not actively being harvested or cared for. We called the owner of the land and though he said he couldn't give us his permission to pick the peaches, he also "couldn't stop us."

The next morning I awoke to my Dad asking if I'd smudged the grease under my eyes to prepare to be a sneaky peach bandit.

As we tip-toed between the trees (not because of feeling guilty, because the deer had been there first and left all kinds of presents), all I could think about was all the pies and pastries I could make with this many peaches. We were there for less than half an hour, but we took in a real haul. So much so that when I did get around to baking with them, I made a pie that used like a dozen peaches and it didn't look like our stash had even been touched. 

I watched James and the Giant Peach after the pie was done because there was no one there to eat it (and the most depressing thing you can ever do as a single person is to bake a pie totally from scratch and then eat it alone) and near the beginning of the movie when the little peach first becomes enchanted and begins to grow to be as large as house, I got sort of excited and thought "wow, what would you do with enough peach to eat for months like that?" And then I remembered I already had that much peach and it's not that exciting. It's mostly overwhelming; the clock is ticking and you know they'll spoil in a heartbeat. I probably should've figured a way for my peaches to take me to New York City like James' peach does. 

We decided to have a peach party to preserve all the fruit, which because everyone had other demands to take them away from the gathering eventually turned into a peach party of one. I didn't know anything about canning peaches before, but 10 hours later I'll never forget how it's done. My ward's family home evening that night was peach picking at some abandoned orchard in another town. Needless to say, I was a little peached-out and didn't attend. After making over 50 jars of peaches, we still have an entire box left. 

It was a long day and definitely not what I envisioned that fun, stealthy early-morning peach picking adventure would lead to. By the end of it, my back was aching and my heels were sore, but in little moments while I waited for the peaches to blanch or the jam to set I thought about how many women in the history of the world have had a lifetime of days so spent. Women that had food preparations and clean-up that never ended and could never just pull something out of the freezer to feed the family. It made me so grateful to not only have enough food, but to live in a time when being responsible for its preparation (whenever I am) doesn't occupy my whole life. It also puts a lot of pressure on how I use the volumes of extra time I've been given because I was born in an age of streamlining and efficiency and technology and born into a country with such abundance and wealth. It makes it that much more important to contribute something real to the world from my position of unearned privilege.

I guess what I'm trying to say is based on all the people bum-rushing peach orchards to harvest the last of the season's fruit, it is officially (and deliciously) autumn. My favorite time of the year. 

Professional Develoment Moment: Pulling a Steven Spielberg

I've been spending this summer trying to get onto as many film sets as I can (slowly closing the disparity gap between my love of film and my actual experience with making it). This sometimes means driving long distances and giving hours of my time for free (and the benefits of craft services have been totally lost on me because I'm dieting...), but I really am learning and making great connections. This web series that I was an extra in just came out, have a gander:

I am definitely learning things, like learning from watching this that my eye line being so low makes it seem like my eyes are closed for 80% of my screen time in this video. Glad I'm learning that now and not seeing it reflected in the dailies of my first big break. 

I was also an extra in a Foundation for a Better Life commercial that filmed at the airport. In my time in New York this summer, I learned that as you're establishing yourself, it's good to go for parts that are as close to who you are as humanly possible. (People come out of college having played ages 14-40 and not realizing that having to compete with real 14 and 40 year olds means you should stick to that hot 23 that comes naturally). 

Being at this airport shoot, I was literally playing myself. I was "pretending" to wait at the baggage claim, an activity I have done at that very baggage claim dozens of times in real life. In fact, I was so convincing that at one point someone came up to me and whispered, "I think they're filming some commercial here, can you believe that?" and I whispered back "woah, that's crazy!" while I stood there with my completely empty luggage and my sunglasses that hadn't seen any sun. It made me feel like a sneaky secret agent to blend in so effectively. 

We had a scene where we were creating the feeling of a big, busy crowd as the principle actor walking down a long stretch of hallway and it was so funny for them to say "ACTION!" and create this very realistic-looking hub-bub (because we were in the real location) and then look closer to find that that guy standing at the rental car desk looking concerned is just muttering 'peas and carrots' and then----"CUT!" and on command all the people that looked like they were in their own little worlds turn around simultaneously and go back to one.  

(This guy said, 'hey, could I have a copy of that picture?' even though it's weirdly framed and we both look kind of uncomfortable. *My pretend travel buddy*)

There's a story my Dad always used to tell me about how Steven Spielberg got his start of which I can find no proof anywhere, but it's a good sentiment. Spielberg (guys, I know two people that are on terms to just call him 'Steve') got his start by being an intern at one of the studios. The way my Dad tells it though he had no permission to be on the lot at all. He just started letting people assume he was the director's nephew or son-in-law so he could just always be around (learning as much as he possibly could). Eventually, he found an empty office and without asking anyone moved in and made it his. Later, he found a parking spot and painted his name on it. He just sort of decided to be everywhere long enough that when they found out he had established himself under false pretenses, he had enough experience that he was an asset to them and they did hire him. 

I guess I've just got to make sure I'm everywhere learning everything and make sure to bring my own paint. 

Apparently 2012 Never Happened...

Accordingly to my blog, the last thing I did was visit the Vienna zoo in July of 2011... It is now September of 2013 and just to clarify, things were happening in the interim. To read about a smattering of them you could peruse my articles on Meridian Magazine.

So what brought me back to confiding in cyberspace?

I'm in a kind of crazy post-college graduation phase of life (oh yea, THAT happened...)

In trying to make plans for my life and move forward with things, I feel at once inundated with thoughts and objectives and at a loss for how to proceed. I often wish I could hear from someone that is a little ahead of me on a similar path so they could call back to me and tell me what there is to look forward to and which potholes to avoid. I guess I feel the need to have a forum to organize my thoughts and I'd like to be that person calling out to anyone who needs to hear it. (I also just have a high need to share about things that excite me like surprisingly good new TV shows and facts about dinosaurs and delicious food.)

I am saving up money to move to New York City to be an actress and a writer so I've essentially chosen to be poor and have my self-confidence defied and confronted on a regular basis. It's all kind of scary and also thrilling and exasperating and exhilarating. 

The other day I was at a dance call for a musical movie. I knew that I was a cut below the rest of auditioners in technical skill, I had no expectation of impressing the director. But I also knew that I was doing better at picking up choreography and having confidence in the steps than I'd done in a long time. I came away feeling pretty good and exciting for more opportunities to practice and hone and perfect. I didn't get cast, but it felt like a triumph. 

It's for moments like that, moments where you can smell progress even if you have nothing to show for it, that I'm resuming this blog. Acknowledging steps taken (even if they're mainly internal) is the way to barrel towards actually changing your life. 

Also, I'll probably get less philosophical at times and show you the thrift store clothes I'm trying to make stylish, the old pictures that just get me going (see Louis and wife above), and these situations that are embarrassing beyond belief and yet still need a forum for display. 

So, think a little or have a laugh at my expense. Either way, visit me now and then and we'll see where all this is going. 

(I'm just throwing this picture in in case you watching the mess of a wipeout video that linked to. The rumba, proving I have been coordinated at least once before, I'm not just a clumsy, ostrich faller-offer...)

Tiergarten

So the travel weekend, which I had long intended to spend in Prague sounded expensive and a little crowded, so we stayed in town and went to the world’s oldest zoo instead. This was definitely also the coolest zoo in the world, hands down. Within the first quarter of an hour, we watched a butterfly hatch and discovered a new kind of amphibian. The zoo has the beautiful architecture of Schönbrunn (they’re on the same grounds), only it has wild animals instead of overpriced cake.

The zoo had all of the regular trappings, all of the things you’d expect at a zoo.

And a few of things that you wouldn’t (looking at my pictures, I’d say it was mostly stuff you wouldn’t...)

Since this zoo is so old they had some of the old cages that they used when it was originally built as the emperor’s personal corner of the animal kingdom (a la our dear MJ). Their children’s area looked like the set in the second half of the time machine when he’s in the year 20,000something. It looked so fun and so forbidden. There was no one over 3 feet tall on it and I’m pretty sure no one bigger would fit.

There was a hike inside the zoo, which was both beautiful and a good little workout. At the top, there was a beautiful view of the whole city which you could take in from a canopy walk in the trees. Then we went down to see the panthers feed which we maybe should have skipped. I just wanted to see them up close, but I forgot what they eat. How do you tell an enormous spotted cat that he’s got a little bloody rabbit fur on his mouth?

Speaking of eating, we tried ‘Langos’ as our over-priced zoo food purchase of the day. It looked like a funnel cake and a Navajo taco had a love child. Turned out to be a giant disk of salty fried thing. Sounds gross, wasn’t bad. We asked a little girl to take a picture and she said she had to go wash her hands first, we watched her walk into the boys bathroom to clean up and found out she was a he….whoops.

The guy in the background of this picture looks like an aged Captain van Trapp. I couldn’t resist stalkerly picture snapping. There are lots of old man that hang around this park that look like they just stepped off a film set. The Schönbrunn grounds are a beautiful place to just be, I hope I can spend a little more time here before I go away.

Wien ist anders.

Yes, I know. I should keep anyone who still knows that this blog exists up to date on my latest travels---blah blah blog. After three days of random milk-run travel and three nights of sleeping on various airport benches

I arrived in Vienna!---But first-----Took an afternoon to re-explore London.

(that’s how everything looks through my rose-colored sunglasses. It was a Sunday morning so I went to church at Westminster Abbey. It was father’s day---Westminster neglected the musical numbers from the primary kids and the chocolate all around.

Classic traveling-solo shot.

I took a walk in Green Park in the early morning on the way to Buckingham Palace and I was suddenly hit with a wave of disbelief and gratitude to find myself cross the pond again. I have lived a truly charmed life in that respect and I stopped that instant and prayed thanks for it. Good thing I did that then because later in the day nothing was open because it was a Sunday morning and it was very cold and strangers kept alternating between hitting on me and asking for money---starting with the cheeky squirrels in that very park---it made me ein bisschen cranky.

Then I got to---well, Helsinki, but THEN I got to VIENNA!

We got here just in time for Corpus Christi so we got to see a procession and it was such an interesting cultural experience. After that, we went walking toward the Hofburg, the big royal palace in the city and we rounded the corner and ran into the same procession again. MADNESS. We’ve crammed a ton into the almost three weeks that I’ve been here and it’s impossible to capture it all here. We’ve been to two Operas and a million museums and eaten way too much ice cream (Zanoni & Zanoni is officially better than Castellos, Schwedenplatz Eiscafe, AND Aida---take note).

Schönbrunn and the Kunsthistoriches have been my favorite places so far. Schönbrunn is the Hapsburg’s summer palace (by the way the last of the Hapsburg died on Tuesday…..). They have outrageously beautiful architecture as well as lovely gardens, but my favorite part was the stories about the royalty that lived there. They have an actual recording of Franz Joseph saying “it has been a pleasure” the way he always did after every meeting he had with anyone. Don’t even get me started on the royal romances. No, but seriously—that could (and probably will be) an entire other blog post.

I’m attempting to take more pictures from here on out and trying hard to keep detailed records of my experiences, I’ll see if I can capture some echo of that here.

What's to come...

This is beautiful (and apparently epic) Vienna, the city that I will call home very soon. I fly out Friday afternoon and suddenly this blog may just come to life again.

Starry Starry Night in the Park with George

*Note: I've randomly decided to start blogging again which I generally only do when I'm overseas somewhere and I want to share my experience with the folks back home. We'll see how long this lasts, my money is on about a week and a half tops.

The other morning my roommate came up the stairs and said "I miss starry starry night." The laptop that I've had since I was seventeen had a skin on it of Vincent Van Gogh's Starry Starry Night and I sort became known for it. At Christmas time, my computer kicked the bucket and I had to get a new one (even though my brother ended up picking the bucket back up and selling the repaired computer later) and though I looked for my next painting even before I got the new computer, to this point, the laptop remains bare. I must first explain why I chose this painting to color my life for the years that it did.

In High School, we had a lesson once about the creative process and the things that inspire people. The teacher showed us pictures of the stars and then showed us how Van Gogh had attempted to capture them and then showed us a song that had been written about the painting. This painting, came to represent to me the way that people have the power to inspire each other and the way that expression and art is not only some existential journey, but a lovely manifestation of human interdependence and God's intimate involvement thereof.

My new naked computer has been naked long enough (and not just because it's getting dirty and scratched from the weird places that I use my computer. I had originally chosen a painting called The Terrace at the Sainte Adresse by our own dear Claude Monet, but it stopped speaking to me before I saved up the money to order the skin. So, I've instead chosen to color my life with a piece called A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte by Georges Seurat.

Because I am in theatre and because Stephen Sondheim wrote a musical in the 80s about this painting, most people that I frequently associate with will assume that I chose this because of its connection to my theatrical life. Truly, there are paintings that I find more beautiful, Caspar David Friedrich has done some incredible things and no one deals with light (which I am fascinated by) the way that Rembrandt does. And there are a thousand paintings that have moved me in museums around the world that I may never be able to see again because the artists names and the paintings titles have long since left me.

My connection to this painting cannot be separated from Sondheim and his musical, but it is not based solely on it. We worked briefly with that musical in my musical scene study class and exploring the content of these scenes in depth unearthed things that mean the world to me and to my understanding of art.

I love the something crazed in George's creative process and the way it pulls him to it the way it pulls him to it nearly as strongly as his love draws him to Dot. In a way, I even love the exquisiteness of the resulting heartbreak and I love the tragedy of a man whose life's work came down to making a hat where there never was a hat and he wasn't appreciated for it in his lifetime. I love that though simplistic, there is still something incredible about creation and the wonder of finding there is something there that wasn't there before because of you. In creation, you come close to godhood, but in loving you become a god and I love grappling between those things because love can be so painful too. I love that in the end Dot is surprised by joy, in that though she didn't end up with the person she should've belonged with, there was something beautiful about her having been allowed to know that love like that exists.

Most of all, I love that somebody could look at this painting and never know any of the above or what it meant to the artist. There's likely a thousand heart-wrenching stories that I've seen in strokes and colors and never known that I was seeing them. Though Sondheim took liberties with the facts of the story, A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte reminds me that there are a million stories worth telling that are waiting for the right mouth or the right pen or the right heart to tell them.

Anything but Laos-y Pt 2

*playing catch up. I don't know what else I'm ever going to get to do with the pictures and video I have from this summer. This one I wrote while I was still in country.

Just before we reached Luang Prabang on the third day of travel we stopped at a cave in the middle of stark black cliffs coming out of the Mekong. It had over two thousand Buddhas in a just a few little caverns. It was interesting, but I think we were all ready to get there.

And get there we did. Laos is a jewel that I didn't know existed. I had a similar experience going to the Heshimite Kingdom of Jordan (not being snooty just distinguishing it from Jordan, Utah). I knew nothing of it so everything that was good was great because I had no expectations and everything was new and exciting. Luang Prabang was a resort town when Laos was a french colony so the whole thing had a European feel to it, while remaining charmingly Asian.

This guy was so cool, he smoked the daily paper. He was standing there holding a flag of the hammer and sickle in the threshold of a travel agency. Laos is a communist country, but you'd never know it. 'Cept for this paper-smoking guy and his flag.

Our hotel was really fine and the best shower I've had my entire time here. Looking right out on the Mekong. Our schedule in Laos was so laid back and the food was good and the culture was fun and fascinating—it was a perfect way to wind down my southeast Asia experience. We spent our days seeing fantastic waterfalls and views and our nights eating great food and reminiscing on what's passed for us. You never think that when you've already been with the same group of people for 3 months that you would suddenly make new friends, but I feel like I did that in Laos and I needed that so I'm glad.

One Night in Bangkok

For Heidi.

The story of MY one night in Bangkok.

Is that a Fat Joke?

I left for this summer hoping it would be a chance to lose weight and it turned into a growing experience, if you know what I mean. My running shows blew out about the same time that my host mother concluded that fried chicken and doughnuts were all I wanted to eat and so you can imagine the result.

My lovely Thai mother is trying so hard to find foods that I'll like, she'll give me a fish head and a doughnut and if I choose the doughnut, she concludes I must have a crazy sweet tooth. To confirm she offers me pig skin and an ice cream and when I choose the ice cream she assumes sugar must be all I ever want. Though her food is delicious, at this point I'm feeling a little like this bear and very ready to choose my own foods and PORPOTIONS.

Anything but Laos-y Pt 1

This past week was our “last hoorah” trip to Laos before everyone in the group goes their separate ways and get blown to the ends of the earth (for most of us, Provo is that place...). We drove for a day up to the northern border of Thailand and then stayed in this swanky guesthouse that looked like something out of a jungle/movie before waking up the next morning and crossing the river into Laos.

All told, it took us three days to get to our final destination of Luang Prabang, Laos, but what a three days they were! We rented out a slow boat for our group, so 2 of the 3 days were just floating down the Mekong (dodging the Nagas) and feeling like spoiled rich Colonial tourists of the 19^th century.

We all took for granted how breathtaking the sights were. Two days of boating (and playing cards and reading Life of Pi while adrift myself, and making creamer and sugars drinks) brought us more shades of green in the flora and fauna on the shore than I even knew existed. We stopped for the first night in a place whose name I never caught, but it was a village that consisted of one main drag and one hotel and one muskrat whose mouth (yes, mouth. Not teeth) had been removed and was still bloodied from it. We named him Job, cause that's a lot of suffering.

Contrary to popular belief, that's actually not a painting. That's the real Laos. It's beautiful. It was such a surprise to me because I went there sight unseen, with no prior knowledge of the place or what it offered. The Laotian people look a lot different than the Thais too, as different as Cambodians from Thais.

Also, because Laos was once a french colony, they have bread. We took much advantage. Many baguettes (I'm not going to mention that they were filled with peanut butter and banana and nutella) were had by all.

(NOTE: THE TAIWAN AIRPORT WONT LET ME UPLOAD VIDEO, BUT IT WILL COME LATER)

Don't Ostracize Me.

Let me explain. The following, was a result of many elements that all added up to create the perfect storm for me. The elements: 1)the proven fact that I'd been repeated to everyone with ears all day---ostriches can kill lions. 2) walking on to this ostrich farm and seeing the bums of the out-of-commission ostriches worm bare of feathers (no doubt from all of the fat tourists sliding around on their backs), 3) watching the little Thai men wrangle the ostriches with their more than sketchy methodology (lets not talk about the blood), AND last but not least--4) the fact that I never fall down. Even in my stumbling I have cat like reflexes and even when I first learned to ice skate, I never remember slipping. That being the case, I'm not really practiced at catching myself. With those grains of salt, watch the following (I recommend it without sound) :

Humiliations galore.

I grabbed the birds wings, but held loosely because I didn't want to crush its feathers and didn't lock my legs around the front of him because the other one was heaving and I didn't want to constrict this one's breathing so I essentially didn't even try to hold on. (Did you see what I did there? Now I'm the town martyr rather than the court jester. check.) Also, the funniest part of the whole video is the ostrich's face as it runs away. Feel free to go back for round two.

It's days later and I'm still in pain from that fall, but, in order that I can still use that old adage about getting back up the ostrich when you've fallen off (or whatever that saying is), I did re-mount.

A new item on my bucket list is to ride every ridable animal there is (yes.) Ostriches: check! Also, note to self: the chinstrap look? not flattering.