There's a Japanese folk tale about a young man in a village who kindly saves a sea turtle from child tormentors. The sea turtle reveals herself to be aquatic royalty and as repayment for saving her life, takes him to her underwater kingdom where he is lavished with gifts of gold and jewels, with plates piled high with gourmet food. He enjoys endless revelry and entertainment among sequined fish, graceful eels, and fluorescent jellyfish. 

After some time passes, however, an ache in his heart points his eyes upward. Even marine magic can't compare with Home.

With a grateful farewell, the man returns to his village. But it is unrecognizable. There are houses where there was none mere hours ago, the newly built houses are now decrepit, and his own house has been replaced with a lush field.

A man he has never seen before passes him on the road. The exasperated man asks the stranger about his family home. "Never heard of them... Oh, but I've heard that name before. Yes, there is a legend--a man by that name disappeared one day and was never seen again. That was over a hundred years ago." He shrugged and kept walking.

The man went back to the sea and sat at the edge of the water. He caught his reflection and saw white hair, grizzled skin, and translucent, empty eyes. He held his face in his hands and cried.

My question is, should the man have stayed with the turtle's kingdom? Every day would have been luxe and light and pleasant. Is it our attachment to "home" that kills us? Once upon a time, to be nomadic was to survive. The man's mistake was going back, instead of going forward. 

My missionary picture

And my missionary blog: http://postsistertakabori.wordpress.com/

Been a while.

It's been a while since I've blogged. It's been miles and miles and a life away.

Provo's been threatening to skip fall altogether as we dip into wintery days, but as I shake hands with November I hold its eyes with mine to tell it, I'm moving through you and I'm not looking back.

Then I flash it a smile intentionally ambiguous--was that genuinely benign or was there a hint of mischief?--while I secretly think that I'm happy these days and I'm grateful I got there so fast.

*

“I am looking for friends. What does that mean -- tame?"

"It is an act too often neglected," said the fox. "It means to establish ties."

"To establish ties?"

"Just that," said the fox. "To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world....”

Earthquake

I'm quietly sitting through a minor earthquake to blog, and it feels apropos.

My summer in Japan has been surreal. I don't know what I was expecting, but I didn't expect it to go this fast, or so far from what I started with.

What my present life consists of: My baby chicks who I teach English to. Being one of the guys, again. Not cooking EVER, and eating delicious food. Procrastination. Procrastination. Procrastination. Repressed panic.

And.

What is no longer in my imminent future: Grad school. Married life. Life in the United States.

I think I'm still too numb to process all of this completely, but I'm pretty sure I'm feeling okay about all of this.

But my new Japan BFFs are great. I love institute. I love my family ward. I love the Japanese language and Japanese people and city life.

But lately I find myself just sitting and staring off into space for a while. Not sure what I'm waiting for.

As usual, I will crawl into movies to hide and/or to find.

Officially addicted.

So I finally started working on my pinterest boards.

And I'm officially addicted.

Get on and join the fun!

http://pinterest.com/amyinpaste/

[And thus I continue falling further and further and further behind in my schoolwork...]

Meta-Jewelry

How creepy is this ring!


It looks like a baby alien hand grasping your finger. Where's the baby alien's body, you ask? It's in yours. The only cool thing that redeems this bizarro creation is that it's meta-jewelry.
[found at Weston Jewelry.]

Fortunately, this estate/antique jewelry store has other rings that are hands-down (and sans hands) gorgeous.

sapphire, diamond, and platinum
Seriously?? So so so so sooo beautiful. It's also $8000 and already sold.pink sapphire, white gold
How pretty! I like the proportions between the width of the band and the circle. This one's only $650. "Only."


Now, I'm really not a diamond kind of girl, but I can definitely this ring on my finger--

diamond and white gold
WOW. My face in emoticon-ese: :-O!
Seriously seriously seriously WOW.
See more shots of this piece of beauty here.
And this one's still available! [Hint hint to a certain someone! Quick!]
And it's only $1900! :)



And this one's adorable.

diamond and white gold
(But I'd prefer the other diamond ring. In case you're wondering.)

But if you're in the Salt Lake area and interested in vintage jewelry, I would highly recommend Antoinette's. The man there is so sweet and really knows his stuff. And you have to actually go to the store because I promise you these pictures don't do the pieces justice. I promise. Here are some that were particularly stunning in person.

aquamarine, pearls, yellow gold, c. 1890s.
Plus, Antoinette's has reasonable prices. This one was $350. (It's already sold.)

amethyst and white gold, c. 1920
I absolutely love the filigree on this. $450.

There was also a gorgeous necklace there of a coral cameo on a diamond-shaped gold place with three tiny pearls dangling from the side and bottom corners, but apparently they don't update their website very often. My ring is even still up there...

PS I'm in Japan, in case you didn't know, for an English-teaching internship. I suppose I'll have to blog about that at some point. I'll be here until the end of August.

PPS I have a pinterest now, so if you're interested, follow me! I haven't done anything with it yet, though, so don't get too excited.

Deeb.

I've been super super busy lately, so I'm going to let my friend Hillary share one thing that I've been up to. And it involves deebs. That's right, douchebags. I mean, douches, in the most academically, historically appropriate sense.

See for yourself here.

Movie Trailers Make Me Cry

My friends and Brian know that one of my favorite things about going to the movies is the trailers. I am a firm believer in the movie trailer as a distinct, beautiful artform, independent of the movie itself.

Some of the best movies have awful to mediocre trailers, while some amazing trailers are WAY better than the movies they represent. Now, the movie trailer industry comes riddled with some weighty controversies that you're probably familiar with. A few:

(1) All the funny parts of the movie are in the trailer so the movie itself is bo-ring by comparison. See the trailer for Gentlemen Broncos, for example. That movie had so much potential, just from the trailer. Then it stank it up like cheesy bloaty gas.

(2) The trailer isn't like the movie at all.

False advertising, misleading, audience manipulation--call it what you will, most of the time (not all the time), it's plain disappointing.

But isn't it the worst when

(3) the trailer gives away EVERYTHING about the movie, and I mean every single stupid plot development.

Point (3) is what made the trailer for Inception SO phenomenal.

(Now remember, I'm talking about the trailer independent of the entire movie, so please do not roll your eyes and mutter "overrated" under your breath. You know who you are.)

The ability of this trailer to create such ambiguity while still holding your interest is maddeningly brilliant. And with the Inception trailer I'm going to launch into my Top Six Movie Trailers List.

6. Inception

I remember after I first saw this trailer, I was on the edge of my seat, going WHAT THE HECK IS IT ABOUT?!?! TELL ME LEEOOO. (Man oh man, has that boy grown up since the Growing Pains days.) I mean, rewatching it now, it makes a lot more sense. But back then I did not understand the concept of inception at all. And I'm no idiot.

I'm not saying there aren't weaknesses with this trailer (just like there are a lot of gaping wholes in the movie) and actually, overall, the trailer kinda feels like a clustercuss (thank you, Fantastic Mr. Fox) of grandiose, beautiful images. But I'm ranking it at #6 for its initial impact, the first impression I still remember from a year or so ago.

And for the record, the trailer set up some high expectations for the movie--and it delivered. And I don't care if you think the film's "overrated" or not--if you go back in your memory to the first time you saw this in theaters, were you not blown away by the vastness of it all?

Back to trailers.

5. Dear Frankie

Disclaimer: This is not a heavy, "quality film" (in a raised pinky, high-brow sort of way) movie. I realize this. This might even be thrown under the chick-flick category. HOWEVER. This, in my opinion, is trailer success.

I'm not sure I know exactly how to explain what makes for a successful trailer. It's the editing--including the music selection, the selection of scenes, the order of those cuts, etc-- as well as the acting performances. If I were a film major or just properly equipped with technical knowledge of film, I could give you legitimate reasons. But for now, you'll just have to trust me. Or judge for yourself.

PS. This is Gerard Butler pre-300, pre-P.S. I Love You, before ridiculous fame. Isn't he adorable.

4. Miss Representation

Okay, confession: I haven't actually seen this movie. Yet. It was at Sundance this year, but we couldn't get tickets. But I will tell you that every single time I've watched this trailer (4 or 5 times now) it's made me tear up. And I consider my tear duct response a legitimate measuring tool. I especially love the point in the trailer when it asks, "How do you change it?" and the song that accompanies the shift. It gives me chills every time.

3. Slumdog Millionaire

Danny Boyle is the man. Is all I have to say about this one.

2. Sunshine Cleaning

Now, this is a case in which the trailer was significantly better than and different from the movie. The Decemberists really make this trailer, I think. I wouldn't have consistently cried upon repeatedly watching this trailer if it weren't for their song.

1. Where the Wild Things Are

I watched this trailer twice a day, cried both times, for probably a year before the actual movie came out. The indie music, again, just really does it for me.

And that's my list. One last thing: I recently discovered that there's a documentary about movie trailers! However, I can't find this movie ANYWHERE. Even Netflix has let me down. I can't even find the trailer on youtube--I can only find it already embedded in someone else's blog. So here's the trailer for the movie about trailers there. I think this documentary, for copyright reasons, can only be used for educational purposes... but I still can't find it for that purpose either. I supposed there must not be enough people who share my passion for trailers in the world, otherwise this would be more widespread. If you have any idea where I could get it, let me know!

Fashion Blog Prelim: Girl Scout patches.

If I had a fashion blog, I would have posted this the other day.
(I would've posted this earlier but I've been busy! So behind on blogging.)

A couple weeks ago I saw Tavi of Style Rookie collect Girl Scout patches to wear and I thought that were adorable! So I thought I'd get some together myself (which wasn't hard because I had my Girl Scout vests in my storage closet ha).










Close-up:


















However, I've come to the conclusion that I can't run a fashion blog because (a) I have a severely low-quality camera, (b) my room has poor lighting and I don't know how to find good lighting, and (c) I don't have anyone to take pictures of me. Oh, and (d) I don't have Photoshop on my laptop. So my "fashion blog pictures" end up looking like this:




















And those were such cute outfits, too. Bah.
Also, apparently I don't know how to work the blog format. Ech.


Maybe eventually, I'll have the required a-to-d items and I'll have my own fashion blog that lots of people follow and comment on and people will send me free shoes and skirts and stuff. Actually, B's already offered to be my photographer (c)...when we're living together...married... or maybe we'll just be next-door neighbors, convenient for my daily fashion blog entires. But for now I'll just sneak intermittent "fashion blog entries" on here. If you guys don't mind.

Almost Christmas Break

Ten hours of Buffalo Bill this weekend: Gonna have to wait.

Instead, I've finally cleaned my apartment and in the process got distracted with other fun things.

Like make this cute headband:

The secret is: Braided strips of scrap fabric, an idea from Kaitlin (who is pretty much the ideal roommate who isn't bothered by me staying up all night with the light on working on a paper and who miraculously wakes me up 50 minutes before my paper's due!), but actually from her bff Monica (who is one awesome girl who's getting married soon! and who has an awesome blog).






Plus I've been watching Psych on Netflix Instant. Love that show. Especially since Shawn used the phrase "fake dating" on the "Hollywood Homicide" episode. Baha!

The next episode was this gem "High Top Fade Out" on which Kenan Thompson and Jaleel White (Urkel!) were guest stars and SANG. Watch (and forgive the crappy quality, there weren't that many options online):




Fab. So much love.

The conversation after this scene is hilarious. If you have Netflix, go watch this episode immediately.

Can I just note how the Indian episode was followed by the Black episode? Just sayin. But I do like it. Maybe there's an Asian episode coming up later in the season?

Now I'm going to continue my lazy, procrastinatory Saturday with Psych and working on a certain Christmas present... which may or may not be for a certain boy.

A Collage of Modernism

A Letter.

You say it’s funny, it’s very funny. And it’s a lot of fun, too, to be in love. You say that in a way it’s an enjoyable feeling.

But I think it’s hell on earth.

For three years, or almost three years, I have never seen beyond you. I am sure I have never been in love in my life.

The trees were buzzing, and the grass…

The blossoms that were unusually luxurious and beautiful that summer…

The roses…

All trash, m’dear.

I could hear the water.

I had picked you up because of a vague sentimental idea that it would be nice to eat with some one.

But what was the scientific explanation (for one must be scientific in all things)?

Listen, don’t you ever get the feeling tha

t all your life is going by and you’re not taking advantage of it? Do you realize you’ve lived nearly half the time you have to live already?

One evening the panic was on me—that I could not feel.

It’s been a silly, silly dream, being unhappy.

I could hear the water.

There is a dignity in people; a solitude, even between husband and wife a gulf; and that one must respect.

But it is unsatisfactory, we agree, how little one knows people.

To love makes one solitary, I think.

How odd it is to know you and yet not know a single thing that had happened to you.

And between us… nothing happened.

I did not expect anything to happen…and I was entirely happy.

Perhaps we feel like that when we die and become a part of something entire, whether it is sun and air, or goodness and knowledge. At any rate, that is happiness; to be dissolved into something complete and great. When it comes to one, it comes as naturally as sleep.

I hated you: I loved you.

My gift is my watch: I give it to you not that you may remember time, but that you might forget it now and then for a moment and not spend all your breath trying to conquer it. because no battle is ever won he said. They are not even fought. The field only reveals to man his own folly and despair, and victory is an illusion of philosophers and fools.

It might be possible that the world itself

is without meaning.

I couldn’t hear the water.

This is a collage I constructed out of lines from three different modernist texts, as a break-up letter, or maybe just a letter, to/from/about modernism/love.

Anyone recognize what novels these are drawing from?

I'm pretty sure I want to focus on American modernist (and post-modern?) literature for my PhD.

Why do I love modernism so much?

Maybe it's the lyricism of the prose by such modernist heavyweights as Woolf and Faukner.

Maybe I'm drawn to, can relate to, am heartbroken and uplifted by the themes of isolation, insularity, inability to communicate, the paradoxes of human relationships, the search for meaning and non-meaning and the self-inflicted loneliness that perpetuates.

Maybe it's because I know how love can make you lonely.

And maybe reading and writing about it helps me grapple with that.

link

PS. Ready for winter to hit.

On the Vice of Napping

Leonardo da Vinci: "O you who sleep, what is sleep? Sleep resembles death. Oh, why not let your work be such that after death you acquire immortality, rather than during life you make yourself like unto the hapless dead by sleeping."

Touché, Leonardo. Touché.

Sketch #2

I have green apples in my canvas bag, and since I am preparing for my post-apocalyptic journey into Reality, I also have hand sanitizer and anti-serpentine spray although it's unclear as to whether it repels snakes or repairs windy shapes. The landscape is barren, a desert, and there is a homeless man scatting, his spit furious and suspended, and a headless tuxedo is walking toward me, and a frothy skeletally malformed dog-sized elephant struggles against the stone egg that looms over us all like a corpulent mother over her misbehaving toddler. Maybe I should spray the crooked creature, I think, maybe I can heal his scoliosis or at least protect it from the St. Exuperyian boa that must be lurking around here somewhere. I find a dry bowl of Cheerios in my bag and I throw some in my mouth. They are stale. I eat them anyway. I never apologize.

Fun Facts

To celebrate this week's all-nighter for my English 363 take-home midterm... and my enjoyment of a literature conference on campus, my amazing Writing Center friends, and my English-infused life in general... I just thought I'd take a break to share some English-nerdy Fun Facts/Observations.

1 Ezra Pound, the iconically elitist High Modernist poet, looks like a douchier version of Joseph Gordon-Levitt.









2 Fire!!, the black literary journal of the Harlem Renaissance that was started by major players in the movement like Wallace Thurman, Zora Neal Hurston, and Langston Hughes, only lasted one issue. Sales were terrible, and the stacks and stacks of unwanted copies were stored in a basement. These copies were all burned in a fire (allegedly).

















3 Elizabeth Barrett Browning and Robert Browning were the Beyonce and Jay-Z of Victorian poets.






XIV.
If thou must love me, let it be for nought
Except for love's sake only. Do not say
'I love her for her smile---her look---her way
Of speaking gently,---for a trick of thought
That falls in well with mine, and certes brought
A sense of pleasant ease on such a day'---
For these things in themselves, Belovèd, may
Be changed, or change for thee,---and love, so wrought,
May be unwrought so. Neither love me for
Thine own dear pity's wiping my cheeks dry,---
A creature might forget to weep, who bore
Thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby!
But love me for love's sake, that evermore
Thou mayst love on, through love's eternity.
--from Sonnets from the Portuguese, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, 1850


Hit me like a ray of sun
Burning through my darkest night
You're the only one that I want
Think I'm addicted to your light
I swore I'd never fall again
But this don't even feel like falling
Gravity can't begin to pull me back to the ground again

It's like I've been awakened
Every rule I had you breakin'
It's the risk that I'm taking
I'm never gonna shut you out

Everywhere I'm looking now
I'm surrounded by your embrace
Baby, I can see your halo
You know you're my saving grace
You're everything I need and more
It's written all over your face
Baby, I can feel your halo
I pray it won't fade away
-from "Halo," Beyonce, 2008

I'm featured

I'm on someone's blog! Thanks, shoes.

Even though she got my name wrong, it's still pretty flattering.

http://wearingitonmysleeves.blogspot.com/2010/10/student-street-style.html

Sketch #1

Through the melting glass panes she watched the dark torrents silencing the field, her skin prickling with anticipation, her hands were cold, frighteningly cold, and clammy, and she kept watching, the vengeful clouds holding something back, she knew it, she was waiting for it, wanting it, dreading it, she was expecting it, she knew she—

CRASH

and she gasped, not because of the sound—she was deaf—but because the sudden attack of light almost made her hear it.

It will not be 500 words but

Problem: How can I become a writer if I don't write?
Solution: a. Plagiarize. b. Write.

Every day, I will post something written creatively. It will not be poetry. It will be fictional. It may or may not be plagiarized.

I'm starting tomorrow. I will be sure to appreciate all the feedback I can get! Please be critical but not mean.

Also, I'd appreciate any suggestions for a pseudonym.

How to forget to feel

I wish I could remember what it feels like to...

...go through an entire day without needing a nap.

source.

...have my fingertips tingling with creativity electricity

creating new worlds.

source.

...discover something true and frightening through a dream

What would my Jungian mandala look like?

...be half a whole.

I found that I loved you afraid better than I had ever loved you fearless, and in that moment we grew up, and shut the gates of Eden behind us, and our empire was at an end." (Willa Cather, "The Treasure of Far Island")

But.

I sure do like how it feels to be sole.
[sole, individual, whole, soul, free, me.]

source, source

Going to California

I want to go to Disneyland to disappear.

Source

Saturday (Un)Productivity

Today:

So instead of getting my homework done,

or working on my honors thesis proposal,

1) I went to Spark Lounge with this beautiful girl for a reading by Pat Madden about his book Quotidiana because the essay genre is so, so great. (Seriously, his "Mea Culpa" was so much more interesting/hilarious than the fiction and poetry representatives there.)

2) And then I listened to Shakira's "She Wolf" about 30 times (not embedded because it's so explicit. Watch at your own discretion) and Taio Cruz's "Break Your Heart" also about 30 times (see below) and David Guetta's "Sexy B****" (the video for which which I won't even give you the link to because you shouldn't even watch it. What is with music videos being "acceptably" pornographic?? Not cool.)

Watch this though.

THESE SONGS ARE SO CATCHY I CAN'T EVEN HANDLE IT.

3) And then my new favorite best friend Erin came over with a delicious marble cupcake from the Sweet Tooth Fairy where she works now and I shared my delicious banana bread with her (Thanks to Kaitlin's grandma for the recipe!). And I offered Erin my tips on wooing cute boys because of my obvious and thorough expertise.

Erin and me at a daaance party

B and me with Sweet Tooth Fairy cupcakes at Park City

So I wasn't quite as productive today as I had planned. But I did 4) study GRE vocab with Emily (abstemious? moderate in appetite. obstreperous? noisy and difficult to control. done.) and I 5) finally did laundry and cleaned my room!

So I have a lot of work to get done tomorrow but oh well! It was a good day. :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[The plenitude (read: abundance) of hyperlinks in this post is to compensate for the dearth (read: shortage) of pictures I took today. Boo.]

Up next: The long-anticipated french (not capitalized) toast breakfast tomorrow. Will take pictures, don't worry.

PS. I want to do some series on here, but I don't know what I want to do yet. Let's be honest. My life isn't that interesting. Anyone want to read about how nerdy English stuff? Like how the Brownings were the Beyonce and Jay-Z of English poets? Or a creative writing series, like with short snippets of what I write? What about fun pop culture facts? Like how Modest Mouse (who will be here on July 8 for the Twilight concert series!!!) got their band name from a Virginia Woolf story or the newest Lady Gaga updates? Like this:

SIGH. Always more than I can handle.

I'll sleep on it.