Sunday, July 10, 2011

More than kisses, letters mingle souls; for thus friends absent speak

(Title quote: John Donne)

Getting the mail used to be exciting; you'd open the mailbox and your heart would skip a beat as you pulled out a letter, personally addressed to you. "And none will hear the postman's knock without a quickening of the heart. For who can bear to feel himself forgotten?" (W.H. Auden). Now when I open the mailbox, I find only ads and bills and credit card offers and magazines I don't want and never subscribed to. At least half of them are addressed to former residents of my apartment "or current resident", which is even more annoying. Except for the bills, it's like my mailbox is full of spam emails. Sometimes I wish I could have the mailman filter my mail like I can on gmail, so that ads, credit card offers, magazines, things addressed to other people, etc are automatically deleted and I don't even have to look at them. Of course, I could just keep moving as I have every 8 months or so since I came to college. Whenever I move I stop receiving mail for a while until the credit card companies find me again (they're getting quicker and quicker at finding me, too). But then I don't receive any mail at all, and it's almost better to receive only credit card offers than no mail at all because at least somebody is sending me something. Do you remember getting personal letters in the mailbox?

I miss good old-fashioned letter writing. I'm not talking about parchment with quill and ink and wax seal here, though if I had sealing wax I would use it for everything from post-it notes to letters to papers I turn in for school. Rather, I miss writing a letter on a piece of paper, sticking it in an envelope with a stamp on it, and dropping it off in the mail box to be sent to a friend. "To send a letter is a good way to go somewhere without moving anything but your heart" (Phyllis Theroux). And I miss receiving personal handwritten letters in the mail. Am I alone here? 

There is nothing like getting a handwritten letter. "A letter is a blessing, a great and all-too-rare privilege that can turn a private moment into an exalted experience" (Alexandra Stoddard). There's something very personal about taking the time to write on paper and mail a letter snail mail rather than typing out an email. To make a typed email seem personal you have to talk about personal things, and to really achieve that intimate connection you have to talk about serious, personal issues. But you can write a letter by hand, sharing nothing more intimate than "life is good", and it feels just as personal. Of course, that is not usually how it happens. Usually a handwritten letter contains that personal conversation that we all crave and love, while emails are impersonal, short and to the point. No one wants to read a long email, but everyone wants to read a long letter. 

I understand that email is free and handwritten letters cost 44 cents apiece. That does add up if you want to write on a regular basis. Even so, is it worth the cost? Most of our correspondence has become bland, strictly business, lacking emotional content and personality. Is it worth it? In an email you can only write words and sometimes attach picture or other files for the recipient. In a letter, you can enclose anything you wish, so long as it fits in the envelope. You can press a flower into a book and send it to a person with a letter; no virtual flower brings such a smile. I miss the personality, the warmth and personal nature of letter writing.

"In a man's letters, you know, Madam, his soul lies naked, his letters are only the mirror of his breast, whatever passes within him is shown undisguised in its natural process. Nothing is inverted, nothing distorted, you see systems in their elements, you discover actions in their motives" (Samuel Johnson).

Friday, July 8, 2011

Uh...hi.

I'm still alive, just fyi. I was going to write about what's happened since I last wrote, but then I realized...nothing has really happened. That's how interesting my life is right now =P So let me pull things out of nowhere here...

- Over spring term at BYU, I worked on the child health paper I've been doing for a year now. The department can't pay me for summer term, though, which means I have no job right now and have to be smart with my money. We all love when that happens.
- A group of friends and I started up a dinner group, which I've never done before but which is a great idea. We hold it M-Th and rotate who cooks, so since there are 6 of us, we only have to cook dinner once every week and a half or so (excluding weekends). It's nice to have dinner group with a small group of women: you don't have to cook bucket loads of food for 10 or 12, you don't have to cook for voraciously hungry men, and you always have meals that taste good. Plus we all (except one) live within a few blocks of each other, so we can almost always walk.
- My brother K's family came to visit from out of state for a few days. I had fun with my nieces and nephew that I don't get to see very often. We went to Temple Square, played at the park, played with nerf guns...it was great.
- My friend D came to visit, also from out of state. That was super fun; my sister K and I got to show her all the great things about Provo life. This meant mostly eating lots of food and going shopping, but we also went to Temple Square and walked around. And we played with my niece M, of course.
- 4th of July happened, in case you didn't notice. Fireworks, celebrations, etc. Good times.
- I was sick for about two weeks, most of that with a bad cold/sore throat and the last part with a stomach bug that kept me fevered and achey and sleepless for a day/night/day. I'm in recovery stage now, and quarantining myself so that my ridiculously weak immune system has time to fully recharge its batteries. I'd really rather not catch a third illness right now.
- I get to go home to CA again next week with my sister C and her family, for about 5 days. Looking forward to some time with other family and friends, and finally hitting up the beach.
- Having no job right now means I have nothing to do besides work on that pesky thesis, which I'm avoiding...why? I don't really know. I have zero motivation to do it. I need to find some, otherwise I'll be stuck in this Master's degree forever...

So I guess some things have happened...anyway. Hope you're all alive; I suspect you are if you're reading this, though I can't be certain.

P.S. Here's a pdf of my poster that won me a prize at a research conference, in case any of you want to see it (click if you want to read it). Enjoy!


Okay I love you, buh bye!

Friday, June 3, 2011

The music is all around you. All you have to do is listen.

August Rush is about a boy who is a musical genius. He doesn't know who doesn't know who his parents are but knows that the music will lead him to them and them to him. He knows that music is their connection, and music is everything. “You know what music is? God`s little reminder that there`s something else besides us in this universe, a harmonic connection between all living beings, everywhere, even the stars.”

For August Rush, music is everywhere... “Listen. Can you hear it? The music. I can hear it everywhere...in the wind...in the air...in the light. It`s all around us. All you have to do is open yourself up. All you have to do...is listen.”

Right now, I am listening...and I can hear it. I can hear it in the click of the keys and the hum of my laptop fan. I can hear it in waves from the air conditioner. I can hear it in the rustling of the blinds, in my feet rubbing against the wall. I can hear it in the cars rushing by outside, and the train nearby. I can hear it in the imagined sounds floating on the air.

August said, “Where I've grown up, they tried to stop me from hearing the music. But when I'm alone it builds up from inside me. And I think if I could learn how to play it, they might hear me. They would know I was theirs...and find me.” My situation is slightly different. Where I went to college, they tried to stop me from hearing the music. Three auditions for the music program—my greatest wish—proved a fruitless cause. Their rejection letters told me I didn’t cut it. The faces of the music students told me I was undeserving, that they were the ones who deserved to hear and make music, not me. But when I’m alone, it builds up from inside me. And I think if I could learn how to really play it, to summon it, to embody it, they might hear me. They would know I was theirs...and find me. Who are “they”? Anyone who would know my soul...my dearest friends...my perfect match...anyone to whose life I might bring the gift of music. “They” are more than people who might know me. They are the music themselves...the muses, the rhythms, the notes, the chords, the harmonies...if I could learn how to call it, the music might hear me. It might know I belong to it and find me.

And maybe that has been my problem. August “[believed] in music the way that some people believe in fairy tales.” I lost my wholehearted faith in music to lift me up, to rescue me while troubled, to save me from the difficulties of life and set me free as it always used to. When I failed to qualify for the music program at school, I doubted music and I doubted myself. But as August’s father told him, “You never quit on your music. No matter what happens. Cuz anytime something bad happens to you, that's the one place you can escape to and just let it go. I learned that the hard way. And anyway, look at me. Nothing bad's gonna happen. You gotta have a little faith.” I shouldn’t have doubted music, or even my own ability to make it. I should never have given up on it because anytime something bad happens to me—anytime someone tells me that I shouldn’t try to make music—music is the one place I can escape to and just let it go. I need to have a little faith.

When asked how the music comes to him, August responded, “I just hear it. Sometimes I wake up and it's there...or I hear it when I'm walking down the street. It's like someone's calling out to me. Writing it all down is like I'm calling back to them, the ones who gave me the music.” I haven’t been listening for the music, but I am listening now, and I can hear it. I can feel it, like a rushing in my heart, like waves crashing on the sea, like sunlight radiating inside me. It’s like someone’s calling out to me. I have to find a way to answer back, to channel this gift into a way to call back to them.

“Listen. Can you hear it? The music. I can hear it everywhere...in the wind...in the air...in the light. It`s all around us. All you have to do is open yourself up. All you have to do...is listen.”

I’m listening.

Saturday, May 28, 2011

Lyrics of my life

Those who know me know that I always have a million songs or lines of music running through my head. Music has fashioned me into the person I am today, and even though I spend most of my time doing things unrelated to it these days, music still has great power over me. As always, when I listen to music I think about the deeper meaning behind the notes and/or behind the lyrics. Here are a few pieces of songs that I’ve been thinking about lately and that to some degree define my current situation in life.

Or maybe two or three
I'll add a few new paintings to my gallery
I'll play guitar and knit
And cook and basically
Just wonder when will my life begin?...
And I'll reread the books
If I have time to spare
I'll paint the walls some more,
I'm sure there's room somewhere.
And then I'll brush and brush,
and brush and brush my hair
Stuck in the same place I've always been.
And I'll keep wondering and wondering
And wondering and wondering
When will my life begin?

I have often dreamed of a far off place
Where a great warm welcome will be waiting for me
Where the crowds will cheer when they see my face
And a voice keeps saying this is where I'm meant to be
I will find my way
I can go the distance
I'll be there someday
If I can be strong
I know every mile will be worth my while
I will go most anywhere to feel like I belong

I drew my line across the sand
And set my flank in no-man’s land
But here I am, the one-man band
With a song that's meant for two

I am floating away
Lost in a silent ballet
I'm dreaming you're out in the blue
And I am right beside you
Awake to take in the view
Late nights and early parades
Still photos and noisy arcades
My darling, we're both on the wing, look down and keep on singing!
And we can go anywhere
Are you there?
Are you there, or are you just a decoy dream in my head?
Am I home or am I simply tumbling all alone? 
Are you there?

I'm not surprised, not everything lasts
I've broken my heart so many times I stopped keeping track
Talk myself in, I talk myself out
I get all worked up then I let myself down
I might have to wait, I’ll never give up
I guess it's half timing and the other half's luck
Wherever you are, whenever it's right
You'll come outta nowhere and into my life
And I know that we can be so amazing
And being in your life is gonna change me
And now I can see every single possibility
Somehow I know that it’ll all turn out
You'll make me work so we can work to work it out
And promise you kid I'll give so much more than I get
I just haven't met you yet
And someday I know it'll all turn out
And I'll work to work it out
Promise you kid I’ll give more than I get
I just haven't met you yet

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Books, Film, and Media Literacy

As a fan of both books and movies, I am pleased when I find out that a book I like is going to be made into a movie or when a film I like was adapted from a book. It’s interesting to compare the two, particularly to see what was changed when the book was made into film. Most of the time I can understand why this or that change was made, but when I can’t, I have to tell myself that the movie and the book are different forms of media and I have to consider them as separate entities.

I’m sure each of us knows at least one person who hates films adapted from books. They consider themselves purists, that any changes made for the film defile the story. But if you pause to think about it, would it really be better to include everything in a film exactly as it is in the book? If a movie-maker were to include every little detail from the book, the film would likely be an utter disaster (an example: see “Twilight”). For one thing, books are long, and few if any people would want to watch a 10 hour production of one book. For another, how many parts of books have to do with concerns such as a lack of resources on a long journey? These fit well in a book because the pages have room for them and they are valid concerns, yet on film they would detract from the excitement of other events or would get annoying with the repetition.

I understand the purist perspective, and there are a number of books-turned-movies that I take issue with for the same reason. For example, take the film “Ella Enchanted” (spoilers if you haven’t seen it): in the book, there’s no evil uncle who usurped the throne and wants to have Ella kill the prince. I understand why they changed it, because Ella’s main struggle in the book is with how her curse might be used to force her to endanger the Prince. I also understand why at the end they have her fight the curse with a knife in her hand, actually struggling to prevent herself from killing him, rather than fighting an internal battle when the Prince asks her to marry him as in the book. These things are internal battles that are much more easily described in a book than on film. Films require visuals (obviously); therefore it makes perfect sense that they would create visuals for these internal conflicts because we cannot easily get inside a person’s head on film. Even though I understand them inventing the evil uncle, it bothers me because they had to change/create an extensive portion of the story for the film adaptation. I believe there are other ways they could have altered the story to show the threat of her curse against the Prince without inventing so many changes.

Here are some more examples of appropriate changes (as I interpret them) to books-turned-movies (again, spoilers):

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone – They took out the scene at the end with Hermione using logic in the potions room to figure out which potion they should drink. Why? It was too long (especially for a children’s movie), and Hermione had already had the chance to show off her skills with the Devil’s Snare, giving her one opportunity, Ron one opportunity, and Harry one opportunity before Harry’s final fight with Quirrel at the end.

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire – Instead of having Dobby bring Harry the gillyweed as in the book, they had Neville do it. Why? It advanced the idea that Neville is good at herbology, and also gave his character a slightly more prominent role in the film. Plus, it was easier to film Matthew Lewis doing the action than do the computer graphics required to create Dobby’s image enacting the part.

The Little Mermaid – In the movie she becomes human and they live happily ever after. In the book she becomes the foam of the sea. Why the change? It’s a children’s movie, of course. I don’t think I need to explain it further.

Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring – At the end of this movie, they adapt the end of the book with the beginning of the Two Towers. They created a scene showing Boromir fighting to save Merry and Pippin, with slow motion showing one of the enemy shooting him with one arrow, then two, then three, him struggling to fight more Orcs in spite of each arrow. In the book, we see none of this battle; instead, we follow Aragorn, who finds Boromir lying on the ground after a great battle, ridden with many arrows. Why? In the book we are free to imagine the great battle that he fought alone. In a film, there is no time to stop and imagine because the visuals are right in front of you and moving super quickly. In recreating what might have happened, the film touches each viewer, showing Boromir’s tragic end, allowing the viewers to commiserate with Aragorn. Also at the end of this film and before Boromir’s fight with the Orcs, they foreshadow his attempt to take the ring from Frodo by showing several camera shots back and forth between the two. You can’t do this in a book, but in the movie it is a subtle but distinct demonstration that something is going to happen between them.

I’ve said too much, but my point is that a book can be excellent and a film can be excellent. They can even both be excellent when they are about the same story. But as different forms of media, they have to portray that story in different ways. Books can’t use music to warn the audience of potential danger like movies can. Movies have much more difficulty showing the passage of time than books do, and often movies that jump around between past, present, and future are confusing and difficult to follow. Books have the freedom of length and time for imagination that movies do not, but movies can use blocking, tracking, camera angles, and lighting to help them tell the story. Each form is good in its own right, and each ought to be considered for their individual contributions to story-telling.