The Best Part of Wakin' Up is Kleenex in Your Cup

I MADE THIS FOR YOU! 

(Well, I made it for class actually.)

Ben Folds, albeit rough around the edges, is such a awesome guy. I was reading a recent interview he had, and in response to a question inquiring about the fact that he has expressed he is okay with people burning cd's, he had this bit:


"...but all those artists who signed those petitions to stop people from stealing their music, well, maybe they should have checked to see how much they were making from royalties first. But it doesn’t bother me, I’d rather have the hundreds of thousands of people hear my music. [Laughs.] To me, having a record company is the way you look famous and important, to let people know that you’re sanctioned by “the man,” and when you go play gigs, it’s like “as seen on TV,” that kind of thing. But I know that stealing music has been bad for people, I’m not going to say I’m happy for it, but it’s not a bad thing for music. It’s a bad thing for the music industry. And those two things are different."


Those last three sentences are golden. The whole interview is here. He's makes music for all and only the right reasons. He's not afraid to take risks, and he's so innovative. On his tour right now he's having the audience of every stop he makes sing a different line of a song he's going to have on his next cd. So. Awesome. 


My job:
Finding a job on campus here is near impossible if you don't qualify for work study. I finally captured one my forth semester of college. I guess there were 50 applications within 48 hours, and he had to cut it off early because he couldn't keep up with them. Basically, it's not exciting. I scan documents the whole time. But I love it. It's perfect. I'm in my own room, I can listen to my ipod, I can come in whenever I want, I can leave whenever I want, I can eat, drink coffee, and take a break whenever I need to. So, huzzah!


I already overheard a funny conversation between the other office ladies on the very first day. They were discussing materials they use when they run out of coffee filters. One woman said she used an old sheet once,  which is, I guess... fine in desperate measures. But then, another lady admitted she used a scented kleenex once. A SCENTED KLEENEX. How can you even THINK for a SECOND that the end result of this will taste REMOTELY good?! First of all, it's a KLEENEX. Kleenexes deteriorate within seconds under water. Second of all, SCENTED?! The woman then declared that it tasted awful. 


OH, REALLY?  


Oh my goodness. I like people.


Now, on to YouTube things.
(Sorry to everyone who doesn't pay attention to such things. I know a lot of you do, though. :] )
I recently discovered Josh Sundquist through that YouTube contest that Luke Conard and Michael Aranda were in. I now have a list.


Reasons I love Josh Sunquist:
1. He's hilarious.
2. He wrote a hilarious autobiography about being an amputee.
3. His eyes are mesmerizing.
4. He's not part of the money hungry community swarming YT.
5. He has one leg, but he's a freaking paralympic skier
6. He makes me laugh out loud.


I want to hang out with him sometime. Sigh. 
Did you guys know about Josh?


(There are so so so many funny videos, but I particularly enjoy this one.)


Secondly, Charlie's video today was absolutely hilarious. My friend posted this on my wall today, "Charlie's new video makes me remember why I simultaneously love and hate the internet. Not to mention Tumblr."


Hahaha. 


Okay, happy weekend!

Allyson and the Awesome, Wonderful, Yes Good, Very Nice Day

This is Chester. 

He's my roommate's giraffe. 

We stuffed him ourselves last year. :]

Thanks for all the comments about my last blog, I really enjoyed reading them. Blogger doesn't have a very good way to respond to comments, so I never really did, but I have started to now... so if you're interested you can check back and we can keep the discussions going on any post. :]

This semester is a stressful one. One of those semesters where you're always on your toes, and if you pause to think for a second you'll miss something and fail miserably. Well, last night it was all getting to me in bed, and I literally felt like I was having a mini panic attack. This morning when I woke up, I decided that it was going to be a GOOD day. And it was. In every way.

Things were falling into place, corespondents were finally getting back to me, assignments were finally getting organized and manageable, I was productive nearly all day, and I had fun conversations with fun people. Oh, and also... I got the job I interviewed for. Do you know what this means? This means I'll have money going into my account. What an interesting concept!

Then tonight, I had to go to an artist presentation. This was... interesting. Fascinating... but.... interesting. Her medium is hair. She makes sculptures out of hair. She screen-prints words on hair. She makes replicas of rugs out of hair clippings. HAIR. Her work was amazing, but oh my goodness. Fake hair.

I kind of felt like gagging. In a not mean way.

This is a link to her works page. It doesn't have any of her screen-printing hair works, which I found most fascinating, but it gives you a taste. And the answer is yes. That IS hair!

Oh and to top it ALL off, the whole PACKERS ARE GOING TO THE SUPERBOWL excitement definitely hasn't worn off yet. This hasn't happened since I was in like 2nd grade. I remember having a tiny "Superbowl Champions" sweater (probably size 6X) that would be totally handy right now.

So, it's all good here in the hood.

Be Yourself... Wait, Who?!

Literature makes me think. Often too much. This blog is a result. Just go with me on this one.




"Be Yourself."

For goodness sake, I'll think I'll ask the question everyone secretly asks themselves, "What does 'be yourself' even mean?"

"Dare to be different."

But, why? Why should we be different? Different how? "Different" has no context, no meaning.

What if you wear a flamingo suit and walk to class. Does this make you different enough? What if this was the norm? Should you wear jeans to class so that you could be "different" once again?

Stargirl was different. "She was elusive. She was today. She was tomorrow. ... We did not know what to make of her. In our minds we tried to pin her to a corkboard like a butterfly, but the pin merely went through and away she flew."

To be elusive means to be hard to comprehend or define; evading grasp or pursuit. I was reading this book today and texted the guy who let me borrow it (hello, friend. :] ) This was the exchange:

Me: "But is it good to be elusive?"
Him: "Yes."
Me: "Why?"
Him: "Because it makes you different and interesting, but it's ever so hard to do."
Me: "But this shouldn't be our goal, to be "different and interesting." That in and of itself a contradiction. Our goal should be to be ourselves, which for some people isn't elusive at all. So, I don't like having this "elusiveness" pinned as a worthy goal, you know?

He told me to keep reading. So I have been... and for her character, it all makes sense... but I'm speaking in general. Because advice like "be yourself" and "march to the beat of your own drum" and "dare to be different" is all too common. Almost as if we are not doing something against "the norm," we aren't trying hard enough to stand out.

I don't like the act of "following the norm" to be seen as conforming in a negative way. Let's consider the definition of that word. Conform. In the simplest definition of the word it means to "be similar, be in line with." So, conforming isn't always a bad thing. Many people these days are trying to find the most obscure objects, music, tastes or clothes just to avoid conform.  Why do we need to be different than everybody else? Being different shouldn't be our goal. Everything is normal in one context or another.

But then, how do we be ourselves? 

Thank God we are not our own. 

"Different" has no standard. 

But God has one for us.

"For none of us lives for ourselves alone, and none of us dies for ourselves alone. If we live, we live for the Lord; and if we die, we die for the Lord. So weather we live or die, we belong to the Lord." -Romans 14:7-8

Conforming in and of itself isn't bad. Conforming to worldly ideals, thoughts, and standards is.


So really, we can stop searching. Stop playing this game of trying to keep up with a constantly changing societal norm. Why be elusive? We already have a purpose, a purpose we shouldn't be trying to keep away from the grasp of others. We already have a standard to live by - His standard. And yeah, compared to the world, that IS different.

"If you belonged to the world, it would love you as its own. As it is, you do not belong to the world, but I have chosen you out of the world. That is why the world hates you." John 15:19 

Congrats, friends. You're daring to be different. Thanks for letting me share thoughts. 


... and I'm not even half way through my book.

LOL, Moses.

(Two blogs in kind of one day. Hold the phone!)

Art History right now is like a Bible History class. It's kind of strange, because I'm used to religion classes where the teacher doesn't have to say "Christian theory states..." before every sentence, but it's actually very interesting, and I'm learning a lot. Like the fact that everyone used to think Moses had horns.

I never knew this, but I feel like it's something I should have known.

This statue on the left is Moses by Michelangelo, and the statue on the right is Moses from the Well of Moses by Claus Sluter. Both with horns.

My (totally hilarious but entirely creepy looking) professor asked if anyone knew why. It was the first Bible related question he had me stumped on. Some guy had the answer, who said he learned it in Sunday school. I went to a Lutheran school for 13 years and never knew this!

I will let the words of a wise Yahoo! Answers topic explain this odd mistranslation,


"The statue depicts Moses with horns on his head. This is believed to be because of the mistranslation of Exodus 34:29-35 by St Jerome. Moses is actually described as having "rays of the skin of his face", which Jerome in the Vulgate had translated as "horns" (See Halo). The mistake in translation is possible because the word "karan" in the Hebrew language can mean either "radiated (light)" or "grew horns"."

I don't know why this is so fascinating to me. It just took me off-guard.

Now, Obamalama.

Obama is coming to my hometown, and no one really knows why.  As in, he's flying to Wisconsin, driving to my city, and then leaving Wisconsin. It was just announced this week, and he's coming next week. My city has like 34,000 people in it. It's not exactly a city that the president spontaneously makes a trip to.

Apparently we're giving him a "special gift." What does that even mean? Do cities do that whole "Key to the City" thing for Presidents? Or are we talking like, iPad special? Maybe it'll just be some beer and cheese. Oh, look... I just ignorantly stereotyped my state. My bad. Haha.

Why I didn't just combine these two ramblings, I am not sure. But I didn't, so now here it is. Moses and Obama for your reading enjoyment.

Off to bed. Goodnight, moon. :]

No One Likes You, Wire. Go Away.

Today, in my favorite class (subject matter wise... some golden learn-nothing-screw-off-the-whole-time classes in high school can never be beaten) we had fun with clipping masks in Adobe Illustrator. He told us to keep playing with them to get used to it and such, so I went straight to old photos of the HP trio. All afternoon I've been making things like this. Oh, Harry. 

Now, I want to talk about Facebook. Facebook has officially been around long enough for us to look back at our first years on it and say, "Man, we've changed!" Friends are becoming numbers instead of acquaintances, messages go back to days before we realized we didn't actually know anything at all, and old wall posts journal inside jokes we've long forgotten about.

Facebook has become, in a way, a journal of my upper teenage years. The thing is, I like looking back at my journals. I like reading about the time I slipped and fell in a puddle in front of the cutest boy I had ever seen or the time I stayed up all night making muffins and dancing to "Circle Circle Dot Dot." But, besides the "View Friendship," which doesn't even go back as far as your first days on the site, Facebook has no archiving system.

Come, on Facebook! Has this ever bothered you before? Maybe I'm just sounding too "addicted." But, whatever. 

Now, one more thing. Every time I enter the library, I remember I need to ask someone this question, and then I forget. So, I will ask several people at once. Our library has a revolving door and two normal push doors on either side. On the push doors there are signs pointing to the revolving door that say, "Save energy! Use the revolving door!" HOW, dear friends, DOES THIS SAVE ENERGY?! Am I just ignorant? I really don't understand. Okay, that's all.

I have to sculpt wire again tomorrow. I don't want to touch wire ever again in my life. I hate everything about it. BAH. Mr. Good Hands said we may be working with clay soon though. This will feel like playing with jello compared to the awful no good terrible wire. 

I Am, Indeed, Female.

Song: Cosmic Love by Florence and the Machine

Now, I feel like I fantasize about the details of my wedding day less than other girls. This may be because I don't want anything huge and elaborate. Or whatever. But I when I came to college last year, I found myself surrounded by a few girls who knew exactly what style of ring they wanted (including the knowledge of different types and diamond cuts) and serious opinions about the different type of dress cuts (tops, bottoms, and waistlines.) Well, I guess I've looked at wedding dresses once or twice. And I've known I want an ivory dress. But, today...

Today, I met a dress.

And we fell in love.

                                                    

HELLO, MY NAME IS ALLYSON AND I WANT TO GET MARRIED BECAUSE OF YOU.

Sigh.

Someday.

Anyway.

I bought one of these thanks to calenders/planners being insanely cheap after the first of the year. It's a Moleskine planner. I love it. We may be attached at the hip. I'm notorious for not keeping up with any one planner for more than a month or two. I am in love with iCal, but I use that for more to-do list stuff, and there's something about a physical planner that just makes you a tad giddy inside.

Also, my friend let me borrow Stargirl by Jerry Spinelli. I've always always wanted to read this book, so I am excited. Have you read it?

This semester is interesting. I have two classes, a World Civ class and Art History, for which I actually have to read all of the assigned textbook reading. I know, this doesn't sound abnormal. But really? I am not a textbook reader. Ever. I use it to study for texts and take quizzes, but throughly read and comprehend? Hardly ever. I do what i need to do and read what I need to read! So the fact is, this semester I need to read all of the assigned reading for these classes to get a good grade. Oh, the annoyances of life.

... which I should be doing.

Sculpting, Dimples, Smiles, and Hands

Song: "You Make Me Smile" - Kyle Andrews

"I like that rainbow pair of gym shoes that you wear.

I like the chance you take. I like the mess you make.

I don’t know why I love you. 

I just know I can’t stop thinking of you

Oh wait... 

It’s cause you make me smile

You always make me smile."

Syllabi days are awkward and overwhelming.

This morning I trudged through tons of unplowed snow in pursuit of my first class of the day, "3 Dimensional Design." It is a required class for my Graphic Design major. You tell me, blog readers, what you think this class is. Computer graphics, right?

Wrong. Oh so wrong. 

If only I had realized this before I entered my "classroom" - a giant sculpture art studio.

"Sometimes people seem to have the idea that this is a computer class when it is, indeed, a sculpture class." - Todd, my "collaborator"

So there I was, trying to wrap my brain around the fact that I was going to have to be able to sculpt things for a grade. I mean, I didn't think this would blow my mind too much, but the more he talked the more it did. This isn't like ceramics. I'm not making useful objects. I'm making abstract sculptures, like the ones that look like butts and lips and kitchen tools that make you ask yourself, "Why?!" Yes, I'll be doing this. For this reason, I began to fear that it would be an entire semester of pretending. Pretending I have a reason for twisting the wire that way or gluing the object there. Pretending I have a goal for my piece, to hopefully cause the observer to feel a certain emotion.

Sculpting. I mean, think about it. It's cool, but never ever have I thought about doing it myself. Even when I decided to dive in to this art major thing. Ceramics, pottery... sure. But wire and metal and pliers and wood and nails and objects that make no sense, but really they're supposed to? Oh boy. 

Today we had to analyze a clump of snow outside. I mean I get it, I do. But sculpting! I've just never had to think about it personally before.

I think I'm being brainwashed. I may never be able to cloud watch so innocently ever again.

My teacher is fascinating, though. When I wasn't freaking about about the class, I was kind of analyzing him. Wondering about his life. This is what I learned: He has the best hands I have ever seen. Large, sturdy, flawed, flexible, large-knuckled sculpting hands. He picked up some clay and was molding it effortlessly as he talked. He's married to a woman who loves books (but he wasn't wearing his ring -- assuming it's a sculptor thing), has four little kids whom he adores, and he has displayed his sculptures in so many different countries. He is first a foremost an artist, and wishes to be our "collaborator" not a teacher. He doesn't particularly like speaking to groups of people, so he always is doing something with his hands with clay or some material. Those hands, I tell you, are good hands.

And he has dimples.

Anywho. Then I went to my drawing class. I feel so out of my element in these classrooms. Not because I don't want to be there, just because it's so different, and I never had proper experience with all these art student things that normal art students know. Like, the desks in this room were arranged in a circle with a platform in the middle of all of them. The seats attached to your drawing easel-type thing were like saddle type seats. When I sat down, the girl next to me was sitting side-saddle. To me, this seemed more proper and less... awkward, so I did also. However, all the people across from me were sitting saddle style. This is something I will have to get used to. Also, I must always remember to never get holes in the crotch region of my pants. This would make for a excruciatingly long 3 hour class period.

Let's just hope I don't have to draw naked people... this is a art student norm that I wouldn't get used to. Or even be good at, for that matter. Really.  I'd be like Lena in the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2 when she's faced with this. But then she dates him. This wouldn't happen. (Although a girl who I really liked in my last art class said her boyfriend is a nude model for the life drawing art classes here. She said it pays really well. Okay, no thanks.)

But I, again, am fascinated by my teacher. He young, rather short, attractive, and fascinating. He has his BFA in Printmaking and BA in French. He spent a few years teaching at universities in France and Scotland. He got his masters while in Scotland and took more classes in France. This, ladies and gentlemen, is a great life game plan.

Neither of my teachers today are stereotypical looking artists (disheveled, eccentric.) They just look like put together upper 20 - 30 somethings. I am quite glad I enjoy the two teachers I am spending 6-12 hours a week with.

Sigh. So many thinks in one day.