Emily

This hangs in my room. "Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul"

Emily Dickinson knows me SO well :)

Here is a little poem I wrote:

Found

If I had a choice

I would just be

And go to this place

See the people, love their faces

Fall in love

And in this place

I would find me

I am writing a poem right now that I have been trying to put together for some time now... I can't wait until it's complete...and then I am going to be brave and try to enter some competitions...and maybe get my name out there...and just maybe...live that little dream of mine...and be published...dreams come true, right?

Elder Walker

I gave a blanket to my brother, Taylor, for Christmas. It says Elder Walker.

I have been waiting anxiously for months for Taylor to get his call...

And now he is going. Oaxaca, Mexico

better be prepared for Elder Walker!

Can I tell you about Taylor?

He is the boy in the crowd that is amusing.

Anyone will laugh at his silly notions and witty comments.

Taylor will probably tell you if you are being a fool. :)

But he will gladly open your door, buy you skittles, and always be your friend.

He has mastered a tide that was unexpected. Taylor defeated the torrent and is standing on firm ground. He is unshakable. I am SO proud of him. I admire who he is - and who he will be! Taylor is one of my closest friends. He is the one I called when I was having a terrible weekend. He packed up and drove two hours to Logan. We went bowling and ate ice cream.

I will miss him severely.

My little brother is amazing.

Jar of Love

Lindsee is my roommate. Her dad died unexpectedly last week. We had dinner together last night. We ate at a small cafe. She laughed and we mostly avoided any subject too tender. But she did talk about the funeral and her dad, which I think is a good sign. Lindsee relayed the most endearing story about her parents.

Valentine’s Day is approaching. A while back Lindsee’s dad had mentioned something he wanted to do for Valentine’s Day. A couple of days after the funeral Lindsee was searching through some things in her closet in her old room at her parent’s home. She soon discovered what her dad had thought of months before. There sat a jar full of stories and notes and pastimes. Lindsee’s dad had written down all the memories he had enjoyed with his wife. Included was their first kiss, first date, and every other moment that was special to he and his wife. It was a jar of love. He had also already ordered flowers for Valentine’s Day. In two weeks Lindsee’s mom will receive a bouquet and one last reminder that her husband loved her. She reads a note from the jar each day. She grasps as much of him as possible. I remember my heart thudded and I felt chills as Lindsee told me this story. What a romantic end to something so seemingly tragic. Lindsee mentioned how it seemed that her dad unknowingly had prepared for his death. I wonder the same thing. I imagine the Lord knew that was what Lindsee’s mom needed.

Death is such a fragile subject that we avoid and often fear. So hear me out for a moment – I am going to sound slightly morbid…maybe.

THERE IS SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL IN DEATH.

Perhaps it’s my knowledge of the Plan of Salvation. Perhaps it’s because I have not yet lost a family member and I can’t embrace the exact emotions involved. But the Spirit was lingering perfectly in the corner of the café. Lindsee and I shared Italian bread and she never cried. She smiled and while she told me the story of her dad her expression mirrored the Lindsee I met a month ago. There wasn’t sadness. I found the way we sat, the way we spoke, the way we lingered, was beautiful. The moment was beautiful. I am not demeaning death or how it may turn a bright world into something so placid and meek. But in Lindsee’s loss, she gained an everlasting memory of her dad. She was thinking back to every good moment in her life with her dad. Perhaps in all its ugliness, death allows us to freeze all the goodness, all the happiness, all the – everything! – Of that person and make it ours to have forever. Lindsee's mom received an actual tangible jar of every good moment, but she already knew those moments. She didn't necessarily need the jar. We are building various jars of love. Our emotions are sharp, clear, and brimming on the surface so real that they are so honest that we love that person all the more. And we can realize how beautiful life was – how beautiful it is. We recognize life. Does that make sense? And then one day, yes, we also die. One day we enter the heavens and there will be that person, waiting. I believe there is nothing more beautiful. If death is the means of such joy, then that is a beautiful thing.

I love Lindsee. I hope she and her family will be okay.

Rosi Posi...Dibble Dabble Doo...I am back...Shoopity Shoop!

I am back! I have modified my blog and now I am going to dedicate myself to my blog! Cheers! AS a slight forewarning...my blog may become somewhat "artsy." I am trying to do a lot more writing these days. In fact, I just began a little freelance writing on the side of my job...SO...this blog will contain a lot of my writing, music, and photography. Maybe some paintings here and there too...BECAUSE that basically details my life these days :)

The beautiful chick in the video is Rosi Golan. She is FANTASTIC!! I believe she is my new favorite artist!

The Concert

I went to the We The Kings concert for Halloween. I could barely move. The crowd had me trapped to the point my nose rubbed boobs and my hand brushed bums. You may brutally judge me, but I will full-heartedly admit that I loved every moment of the concert. I loved the way my ears were ringing. I loved the awkward moments with the boy on my right. And all the sudden I was 19 again and I was going to all the concerts again, being a “wanna-be” punk, and thinking I was really cool. And I was thinking about “that boy” again – the one with the white stripe in his hair.He was the ultimate “punk.” I imagined our studded-bracelet-and-dyed-black-hair-lives would mesh into the so-called wild lifestyle that would keep me close enough to the edge but still within the terms of righteousness – ya know, exactly how romance goes! I had this temporary stage of what I considered rebellion. I was a punk, and a brat (I can definitely still be a brat), and I used a lot of four-letter words. Thus, I was the ultimate rebel! ;) Anyhow…

I know Halloween has passed. Mostly, I wanted to share my poem.

White Stripes

There I was again in my pink tights

My tattoo along the curve of my neck

They inked “bad girl” on my skin

The sweat was neither sweet nor salty

The crowd smelled of painted faces

We shook our fists into the spotted lights

An orange haired boy held the mike tightly

He sang to the jumping reckless fans

And the air shifted with the rising emotion

As I glanced at my friend my eyes blurred

Random elbows clipped my nose ring

The sting brought pleasant laughter

And I laughed while the orange haired boy sang

I wanted to know that boy

He tugged at my lagging control

He left me completely vulnerable

I like your hair

Colored it to mine

We can know this song

The rocking bodies are asking your name

They pass around the lyrics in matchless tones

That boy is writing a note in my mind

I am wandering back to where you sat

I am remembering the next scene

I am listening as you open the door

I am reading your handwritten stories

I am saying this was exactly right

I am guessing your next hidden look

I am lingering under the streetlight

And as always I am holding out for you

Milk Chocolate Goodness

My Dove wrapper said,

"You can't live a positive life with a negative mind."

Well...I can truly live a positive life, if my life is filled with chocolate!