What is art???

In my art class, we've been talking about the aesthetics of art, or rather how people determine that art is art. Basically, society does to some extent, and it's a personal opinion of where to draw the line (if you draw a line anywhere). As part of this discussion we discussed the possibilities of animal art. No, not picture of animals but animals making the artwork. I was very skeptical...

And then we saw this video...

Confession: I still don't know if I call it art, but you might.

We also saw a crazy video about a man wanting to kill a rat for art. And the killing of the rat is the art. Crazy.

P.s. I also painted an abstract flower with watercolors that I am pretty dang proud of, which is a rare occasion.

Oh the things you will find in a backpack of mine...

I cleaned out my backpack today.
I found the normal stuff: I-pod, contacts lubricator, money, comb, chap-stick, lip gloss, writing utensils, band-aids, jump drive, lotion, femininities, etc. Use your imagination, or really, just look in your own backpack.
However, I also found (not surprisingly):
--A-440 tuning fork
--whistle
--glue-stick
--ultra fine point black sharpie
--art pencil and gum eraser
--napkins
I have also been known to find the following:
--markers
--scissors
--tape
I think one's backpack can say a lot about a person.

I keep so much stuff in my backpack. This is why I take my backpack places when I don't need to sometimes. It's too much of a hassle to transfer it to a purse.

Maybe I should decrease the number of items in my backpack. It can get really heavy between carrying around books and food. Maybe the books aren't the problem... I could shed a pound or two if I got rid of half the little stuff.
But what if I need that extra something special in my backpack?

Nightmares in the south bedroom of G6

Normally, I don't remember my dreams, but lately this has not been so...
Instead, I have woken up the past two nights with signs of relief mingled with remnants of fright and terror.
Unfortunately, these dreams cannot be recounted perfectly. Only fragments of my feelings remain, and only faint scenes can be replayed in my mind. I would rather not review those dreams anyways.

Friday night could have been a happy dream full of love and peace. Instead, this dream was full of loss, shock, and betrayal. Meagan met a boy, fell in love, and got engaged... all in the same day. I didn't understand--how could Meagan leave me... alone!
(Note: This is an exaggeration.)

After a visit to the Draper temple open house and a visit with an old friend (Actually she is is only 22, and we are still good friends... except she's married), only pleasant dreams were to be expected. We even watched a lovely movie full of short 5-minute films about love, called Paris, je t'aime. One could only expect dreams full of "happily ever afters." But, alas, 'tis was not meant to be.
Instead, my dreams were full of vampires--in the disguise of children. Myself and others were supposed to be protecting and watching these children. Eventually, we were protecting others from these children. However, I felt weak, vulnerable, and scared. I wasn't much help and depended on those older, wiser, and stronger than I. I don't remember much more than that. Thank goodness! My alarm clock this morning had never been a more pleasant sound.
It must have been that short film about the love of vampires...

It's the start of something new...

The beginning of every semester always starts the same old way. You'd think I'd learn.

1. Denial of my enrollment in classes and the subsequent homework.
2. Acknowledgment but apathy. Forget homework... let's play!
3. ACK! Too much to do! I do care after all...
WARNING: This phase includes high stress levels, possible grouchiness, and much self-pity.
4. And finally... adjustment. I rock at school.

Pondering..

I just wrote entries for two other journals... why not one more?

I have 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6... at least 6 different journals, oh wait... make that 7. Yikes. Journals in so many different plays cannot be effective.

The educators of future elementary school teachers have a thing for journals. Supposedly, they're good for you. Okay, so they are. However, when they are an assignment they are not always as much from the heart as they should be. As of now, three of my classes require the students to write a journal or various reflections.

Then, I have a personal, daily journal. My New Years' resolution is to write in it thrice weekly. I have written in it once... Elder Holland was right.
I also have my scripture journal.
Thirdly, I have a physical journal with about 10 pages left. I wanted to say I had at least filled up one journal in my life, so I can't quite be done with this one yet.
Then, of course, I have this blog thingy. I think this one wins for the most consistent entries as of late.

Well, I am off to... you guessed it! Write in another journal...

Marissa, the El Eder???

Well, I have officially started the elementary education program, a lifelong goal. (Okay, actually the goal is to become a teacher, but ya know...) I loved elementary school and had great teachers, and pretty much ever since then I wanted to be a teacher. Even once I was in the music program, I debated about whether I wanted to teach a regular classroom or music. Academic subjects were easier for me, and I wanted to continually work with the same 20 kids. However, the elementary music education program slowly molded and redirected my passions. Recently, I decided that yes, I am in fact going to teach music. I love it.

Now in the elementary education program, I just feel different than everyone else. First of all, I doubt half of them are really that passionate about teaching kids. But, ah, such is life, I guess. Second of all, I feel older and wiser than them. Yes, even though half of them are married. Partly because I basically just finished the music education program--I know a fair amount about education. And, I am 1-2 years older than them. Thirdly, I believe in the importance of a well-rounded education, including the arts. Not all of them do.

Something is wrong in the public school system today. Why are some kids at-risk? The traditional school setting and teaching methods are obviously not working for all children. I mean, "Hello!" we are all different and different methods need to be applied. Children need to gain experiences and not just digest a bunch of inapplicable facts.
I believe and in fact, I know, that pushing arts out of the schools and viewing them merely as a "frill" is part of this problem. Some children may learn concepts better through the arts--you would be surprised at how much music can teach you. You can develop many different skills while studying music--physical,emotional, volitional, social, and even mental. (If you don't believe me, I'll send you the 16 page research paper I wrote last semester.) Some kids may simply need music as an outlet and a source of pleasure in school.
Anyways, today's school system and people's disregard of the arts drives me nuts. Period. The next 2 years in the elementary education program could prove quite interesting...

Also, I have discovered a pet peeve: pessimism. This is not directed at y'all (namely, Meagan and Jenn) but to classmates. Venting with close friends is quite different than negative comments from people you don't even know. There are people griping and complaining in some of my classes about the structure and layout of a couple classes. Honestly, the teachers have a heck of a lot more experience than them. I think they know how to educate future teachers. (Even if they don't, they are typically under someone else, who designed the syllabus). Plus, there is nothing you can do to change the structure and format of the class. Focus on the positive stuff. If it bothers you... drop the class.

Home for the Holidays (and reveries of high school days)

I sang at a funeral today.

Coming home is great for my self-esteem. All the adults at church thinks I'm wonderful. It's really nice.
Although there are awkward times... Crazy people and noisy sacrament meetings are still in great abundance. On the other hand, I was reminded today though of all the great people in my home ward--there are quite a lot of people I look up to and admire.

I hung out with old high school friends yesterday and enjoyed every minute of it. I spoke of them in my last entry of them and realized we were losing touch. Sometimes I have a few negative connotations with high school--all the insecurities involved and growing pains. However, seeing them yesterday brought back a lot of good memories. I honestly can't complain--I had a large, close, good group of friends. We meshed in a lot of ways I do not quite click with college friends. We had similar interests--after all, we met because of our similar interests and goals, namely AP and other advanced classes. Some were in choir and other similar extracurricular activities with me too. We are all still nerds who are studious but clever and funny. We just plain click even though we don't all stay in touch. A few of them have different values, but on the whole they are just good people. Being in the Bible belt, most are religious too.
Some stay in touch better than I do though. It is interesting hearing of their college experiences--they are different than mine. On the whole, most (definitely not all) have not made as close, lifelong friends as I have had. The social scenes of other colleges are very different than that of BYU. They are not as conducive to the making of close, lifelong friends. High school friends, thus, have an even closer spot to their heart because they are the closest friends they have ever had.
It is interesting interacting with them though. I have grown up--more social, more mature, and more confident--a me they don't really know. Thus, this me does not really appear. This me is not the me they know nor expect and this me doesn't know how to interact with them. Thus, it is the old, quiet, unsure me that appears to be present. I don't know if that makes sense. It is hard for this more mature me to interact with any group that doesn't know this me because they don't expect it. I hope that doesn't seem shallow because it's not. Perhaps, it is just a sign that I am still learning and growing, and there is definitely more room for growth. :)
However, I realized last night though that I had no reason to ever, ever, ever doubt their friendship. They would have continued to be my friends and will always be my friends. My closest friends won't forget me even if we lose touch.

In sum, I am having a great time, and so my summer plans are still being debated... I was pretty sure I wasn't coming home, but now I'm not. After all, I could save a lot of money, and I have a job waiting for me. However, then I remember that 4 months is a long time and none of my friends would be in town...