And All That Jazz

My parents and I went to the Jazz/Trailblazer game in Portland and we didn't get beaten up! My mom did put her sweat shirt over her jersey before going to the bathroom by herself to avoid being jumped. They won the game in the last minute which was pretty awesome. Paul Milsap agreed to be my boyfriend which was more awesome.

But, it can be argued that the extreme awkwardness of the photo below could be the most impressive part of the night. Nice lean in, Sar.

Here are a few more normal photos:

This recycling business does not happen in the Energy Solutions Arena, now does it?

You might think that they're smiling, but they're actually terrified, 

because they're being heckled.

That's better. 

Thanks for coming to see me, parents!

Newport News

My parents are in Eugene! This means that my apartment seems 3x as small and my fridge has 3x more food than usual. We had some plans for today, including a winery visit and a hike, but since it has been raining so much lately, both of those events would have turned into just walking around in the mud. So we went to the Aquarium in Newport with Michael's cute sister and her family.

I will never get tired of those kiddo's enthusiastic greetings. Reason to have children and puppies: they are always stoked when they see you.

My poor camera spent most of the trip wheezing and sputtering, but it took a few pictures.

 

(He's being crabby. Get it?)

I framed this picture very strategically, so you could not see the fashion-forward haircut that her siblings gave her earlier this week. She sure is cute though.

Icecream whenever you want

A few days ago I posted "The best thing about being a grown-up is the ability to buy yourself ice cream whenever you want," on facebook.

I've been thinking about this a little bit, and I think it happens to be genius (both the concept and my identification of it). A few days ago I took the bus to school, instead of my usual walk. Due to a detour and a crazy bus driver, it was taking about twice as long as usual, when the bus just broke down. Ka-blam. Broke down. I hopped off, trying to pretend that I'd decided to walk in the first place, when I found myself in front of a frozen yogurt shop. So, I went in and got something mango-y and chocolate-y and my day was much better.

Speaking of yogurt shops: were there a lot of people dreaming about opening frozen yogurt shops in the 90s? Because there sure are a lot around these days. If you don't believe me, visit Holladay, Utah.

You might be thinking that one cannot simply get ice cream whenever they want to, because they'll go bankrupt and end up on the street, with a ice cream-induced weight problem. Maybe so, but I maintain that it's still the best part about life.

(Who knew searching for "ice cream on the streets" would return something relevant?)

I've been a bit frazzled lately with finals and the large anvil hanging over my head that is my thesis. Mostly, I've been thinking about all the worst parts of being a grown up, but! soon I will leave my office and go get me some ice cream.

In other news, my camera is officially kaput, which means my blog will be super boring until I buy a new one or begin practicing camera-less photography. Somehow, I don't think you want to see my Rayographs, though.

PS- My parents are coming at the end of the week!

I Hate the Lakers

I've had a bit of a day today. I gave myself a deadline to produce some pages for my thesis. What an awesome idea, Sarah. Way to be self-disciplined. I really admire you, you said to yourself. I went past that deadline a few days ago, so I've been scrambling to catch up before my students attack me with papers to grade.

This has lead to a lot of time in my office and at my kitchen table. Hey, at least I get to use sticky notes fairly often. During this thesis-fest, my biggest consolation (besides, perhaps, video chats with Moose) has been the Utah Jazz. I love those guys, and my league pass. Thanks for winning for me, guys.

I'm going to go see them play in Portland (who knows who will be on their team by that point) in a few weeks with my parents. I've never been the odd-man-out in the crowd before, but I'll be wearing my Matt Harpring jersey, so he'll come protect me if I get attacked by angry hipsters. Ooooh, Portland joke.

Also, here's a little something I whipped up after finishing tonight.

It's Kobe. He's crying into his mask.

Bwahahahaha.

Master Sarah

Well, I've had a particularly depressing day, since I decided to search for jobs. Gah. It seems that I am no more qualified for 99% of jobs than I was before graduate school. This is a pretty standard joke in my life, but I'm now thinking that I may actually be less qualified than I used to be. I suppose that's what happens when you spend two years in the library drinking tea out of a thermos and buying progressively larger scarves.

Check me out, right now:

 Anybody ever notice the percentage of people who get picked for What Not to Wear that are graduate students? Well, it's about 50%, and the rest are retired strippers.

Don't worry though, I'm applying for Ph.D. programs next year, then I'll be really valuable to employers. I'm playing with a few jokes here, let me know what you think.

-"Hi, I'm Dr. Sarah and I'll be taking care of you tonight. Can I get you some drinks?"
-Maybe I'll change the language to reflect my advanced degrees, "Ah yes, hello. I'm Dr. Sarah (holds for applause). I'm pleased to be here today to present my semiotic analysis of your menu. (pulls out laser pointer) Please hold your questions."
-Craigslist ad: Do you like pictures of naked people? Well, I can tell you about the social and historical environment from whence they came! $10/hour.
-At least I'll be able to to be on ProActive infomercials: "I'm Dr. Sarah and I am indeed wearing a white lab coat..." (Flashing below screen: Holds a Ph.D in Art History).

Goodness. Anyway, I'll get a job and stuff. I'm actually very much looking forward to a year off, even if that includes a job that doesn't have anything to do with large scarves, where no one will call my Master Sarah. Wait! Maybe I could train young children to use light sabers. "Light Saber 1010, with Master Sarah." Some days I have so much trouble focusing on my graduate work that I end up doing things that aren't particularly relevant, like yoga in my office, or taking frequent trips to the free candy dish in the offices downstairs. Sometimes, I even end up online talking to myself. Can you imagine?

Ah, crap.

Green Eugene

Michael and I went to some fancy coffee place this morning ("Did you see that roaster, Sarah?"), went on a beautiful hike, ate sushi and shopped for some niece and nephew birthday presents. This is about four more things than I usually do each day, so go team.

 

We did the Fall Creek Trail, which is about a half an hour outside of Eugene. It's hilarious how quickly Oregon turns into little towns full of horses and Republicans right after you turn off of I-5. It was so GREEN and the water was beautiful and clear. I can't believe that it was that beautiful right now--what is it like in the spring?

Here are some pictures, and to prove my point I'm not going to edit any of them.

 Casual Hiker: one hand remains in pocket at all times

 The water was amazing. That color!

  Moose forgot that he doesn't like water and did some quality fetching.

 Awwww, look at that puppy dog.

 You may notice that this picture is not in focus; Michael took it.

If the state of Oregon wants to borrow this picture for their travel brochures, they may.

 

Did I mention that the sun came out at the end of the hike? The sun never comes out.

Anyway, we had a stellar day. It's sort of amazing how fortifying it is when people come visit me--especially when they're furry and like to cuddle. Hope you all have a lovely weekend.

The Eiffel To

I've seen these pictures before, usually in some dorm room poster format, but I ran across them a few days ago and it got me thinking about how iconic the Eiffel Tower has become, and thus how strange it looks unfinished. It's also funny it is that the Eiffel Tower is never challenged these days. There aren't many people walking around say, "Gah, that Eiffel Tower really gets me down."

In fact, it's become a strange symbol for girlishness and romance, usually set against a pale pink background (at least in the states). It's a common Prom theme. This is strange.

Eiffel, an engineer, saw the work as an exercise in a new material--iron--and an example of well-executed craftsmanship.

Roland Barthes, a philosopher and all around badass, mocked the tower as a failure in his "The Eiffel Tower and Other Mythologies." He comments,

"Eiffel saw his Tower in the form of a serious object, rational, useful; men return it to him in the form of a great baroque dream which quite naturally touches on the borders of the irrational ... architecture is always dream and function, expression of a utopia and instrument of a convenience.”

Construction photos by Théophile Féau from 1887-1889

 Ah, Barthes. Eiffel made a building without walls. It can't count as architecture--it certainly wouldn't pass a building code. And yet, it became the tallest building in the world. It can't be sculpture--too huge, too different from the marble sculpture that still dominated the sculptural scene. It's not a monument, like the Statue of Liberty created a few years earlier--what does it symbolize? What is it then? It's useless.

That's one definition of art: useless.

It seems that this rational engineer who set out to build the world's tallest structure, made of new and completely exposed metals, gave Parisians, instead, a new orientation. The tower could be seen from all over Paris, and standing atop the tower allowed for a new view of their city--a sweeping, all encompassing, and universalizing view. I say universalizing, since when people are reduced to specks on the streets they are reduced to their essence, their simple humanity. Now that is why the Eiffel Tower is romantic.
 

 

Some Parisians hated it, Guy de Maupassant, an author, used to eat at the restaurant every day, because he claimed it was the only place in the city where you couldn't see the tower. Seems like Barthes was right, though; instead of acting as a exercise in rationality for the 1889 World's Fair that would be dismantled at it's close, it gave the 19th Century Parisians a new way of seeing their city and each other. I guess that's an ok Prom theme. It just needs a subtitle. "Paris: Seeing Your Classmates in a New Way, like Nineteenth Century Parisians did During the 1889 World's Fair."

When I visited Paris a few years (that long!) ago, I was blown away by the tower. See? I'm literally falling over. That jacket is still in France...somewhere.

I left visiting it until my last day in the city, since I thought something that had become such a strange symbol had to be a cheesy tourist fest. And it was. Then the tower started sparkling, and I shut up. Good mistake, Eiffel.  Here's my video from that day:

Downsides and Upsides

First downsides:

About a half an hour after class today, I went to the bathroom.

Good story, eh?

Anyway, there was somebody crying in one of the stalls. Crying a lot. This had never happened to me before, although I know that girls are supposed to do this all the time especially if they were killed by Voldemort.

I've encountered crying in practice rooms (music majors, you know?), lots of dorm room crying, booth for two crying (I once waited on a couple that were breaking up at Marie Callendars, they were both crying into their chicken pot pies...), but that's about it. I thought there might be something really wrong, so I asked if I could help or if I could get anyone and a little voice just said, "It's nothing; got a bad grade on the midterm and now I failed a quiz."

And then I quickly ran out of the bathroom before she could open the door and see me, the one with the red pen.

So that's the downside of teaching. Also, the Jazz keep hurting my feelings.

Upsides:

Since I've always been a glass-with-an-average-quantity-of-water person, I thought I would balance this post out by declaring that I made rosemary, ricotta gnocchi, and thus am the best.

Check it out, this blog rocks. I even froze some, although I probably could have eaten it all. I added rosemary, because I'm totally hardcore. Also I wore my apron that my mom made me, so I'm the coolest. Here's a picture of said apron from a few years ago, when I had very long hair and...a stiff neck (?).

DOMESTIC GODDESS -->

Pandas vs. Girl Scouts

My super cool boyfriend sent me some chocolate today. It's not just any chocolate, it's has more stamps on it than a VW van--fair trade, wrapper made from recycled paper, cruelty free, and--get this--ten percent of the sales go toward helping endangered species. Link here. There was a little slip in the box that says "look for our sales representatives at local grocery stores in the month of February."

Now, Girls Scout also stake out local grocery stores in the month of February. I should know, because I haven't been able to find any of them. Why are the Girl Scouts hiding from me? I want some Thin Mints. If I could just get a little one on her own, far from the pack...

Anyway the combination of thinking about girl scout cookies and endangered species chocolate led to an incredible image, which ended up being my favorite part of the present. I've recreated it below.

PS- check out this old commercial from the girl scout's website.

Chocolate Covered Bananagrams

It's Valentines Day in Spokane. Well, it is for us.Yesterday we went on a foggy, snowy hike and watched Moose race around. Moose tracks--everywhere. We got slightly lost, but while lost we saw a white-tailed deer which was very exotic for me. We also met two parties of hikers who were pretty cool. We couldn't believe there were only a few people on the hike (which is only five minutes from Spokane) on a Saturday...too busy doing meth I guess. Sometimes I feel bad about my life, and then I remember that I'm not addicted to meth.

Wow. That took a turn. Let's move on, shall we?

I forgot my camera, so I've documented our dinner instead of the pretty hike.

Note: I won Bananagrams.

Now we're watching Sleepless in Seattle or what Michael calls "my childhood." It's true, his mom really does look like Meg Ryan and this movie was a staple."Hoarses, hoarses, hoarses..."

Gah, we're so romantic.

Skirting Responsibilities

I maybe should be doing art history or pushups or something like that, but I'm taking a break from my day to brag about my skirt.

Check it:

There are two things I've learned from this exercise: I really have to work on my posing; I should start an early morning fashion blog.

Oh, did I mention that my mom made this skirt? With. Yarn.

Yeah, I don't blame you for being jealous.

Having a Bad Day?

I have no right to be laughing so much, while hanging out by myself grading papers, but seriously Bollywood gets me every time. My Uncle Dean, who's been to India a few times himself, sent me a whole case of Bollywood movies when I was in college and I made my roommates watch them all (Bollywood=extreme bonding).
I have this incredible fondness for them, mixed with thinking they're the most over-the-top things I've ever seen. I think it boils down to this: these movies are ridiculous...and I really want to be in one. They should have live productions of this stuff.

This clip doesn't have subtitles, but it's pretty much "Someday my Prince Will Come." There are so many things to look out for--astro turf, gokarts, precocious couch-jumping. My favorite moment comes at 2:32. I'm going to go watch it again.

You're welcome.

Just in Case

I promise that I'll start writing about my own life at some point in the near future, but lately all I've been thinking about on my walks home (which is when I connect with my inner-blog) is art history. It's lame and wonderful. The class that I'm helping out with the term continues to inspire me.

I want you, mom (since she may be the only person reading my blog) to guess who painted this. It's called First Communion from 1895.

Did you guess Picasso? Probably not.

Now guess how old he was when he painted it.

Did you guess fourteen? Probably not.

Did you see the detail on the carpet? Wowza.

I threw this up here, just in case anyone thought he was making "mistakes" in his later work.

Pablo Picasso, Dora Maar, 1937, Oil on Canvas

I'll take jaggedy portraits of Picasso's super cool photographer wife over first communions any day. I should probably mention that a similar portrait Dora Maar au Chat sold for about $100 million a few years ago. Art Historians never talk about money, but I secretly Google it all the time.

PS-I really think whoever bought Dora Maar au Chat is probably sitting alone in a room in a large velvet chair across from the painting, drinking brandy, and occasionally tossing piles of gold coins in the air.

Degas and Other Musings (that's the only possible title for this post)

Edward Degas (1834-1917)

Seated Violinist, 1977, oil on canvas

Edward Degas (1834-1917)

Ballerina in Blue, date unknown, oil on canvas

Jules Joseph Lefebvre (1836–1911)
Young Woman with Morning Glories in Her Hair, 1870, oil on canvas

Degas was a rebel. Isn't that funny? I'll never get over how fun it is to be a Modernist. It's called MODERN art, because it was so revolutionary and well, edgy. But now everyone has calendars of little French prostitutes skipping about and multicolored haystacks and their neighbors don't accuse them of Anarchy. How could waterlilies have been so subversive? I love it when someone tells me that they don't like Modern art--I get to have a little moment in my head when I say "Oh yeah, Monet really rubs you wrong?"

Degas was, in fact, a double rebel, because he defied the French Academie, who liked paintings like this one on the right -->
by Lefebvre (obviously chosen by men, while they smoked cigars and congratulated each other on their impressively large...fortunes.).

Claude Monet (1841-1926)
  Boulevard des Capucines, 1873, oil on canvas

 
 But, Degas also went against his buds, like Monet, Manet and Tippy-Tippy-Day-Day by returning to the figure. Most Impressionists, although they had very diverse subject matter, avoided figures except at a distance, like the image on the left, which is only about two feet wide.  Some of my favorite Impressionist paintings are the anomalies that have figures in them (like Monet's Girl with the Red Kerchief). Note: Please do not talk about the impressive work of Tippy-Tippy-Day-Day, that's a Seinfeild reference. I've promised myself, though, that if any student writes it (or "TTDD" for short) on a test, I'll give them bonus points.

Claude Monet (1841-1926)
Impression Sunrise, 1872, oil on canvas

I really enjoy abstract works (that is what I focus on when I do research) and even the occasional landscape, but I find portraits and other figural works the most captivating when I'm in museums. That's why I like Degas, I think.

I'm not a quote person. Some people are always throwing them up on facebook, buying diaries that have quote for each day, or putting them on their walls and such. I recently heard of a person (thank you Jackson) who puts their own quotes on their walls. Hmmmm....not so sure about that. Anyway, I like this quote from Degas, who didn't quite buy into the oft-taught-in-Art History 1010 tenants of Impressionism, such as interest in light on landscape, the new infusion of steam into the atmosphere of the city, and the idea that everything must be fundamentally new and unplanned. He says:

No art was ever less spontaneous than mine. What I do is the result of reflection and study of the great masters; of inspiration, spontaneity, temperament, I know nothing. 

 

Edward Degas (1834-1917)

Blue Dancers, 1989, oil on canvas

I've been studying (and thus getting really tired of) a lot of Abstract Expressionists who adopted the romantic idea of spontaneity and carefully. slowly. put it into practice over several years. I'm getting tired of fighting the idea that artists receive a bolt of genius, strip naked and start throwing paint at one another...although that does sound fun.  I think Degas had it about right.

I might also be hanging out with a young man (*cough* Michael) who has to write a thesis, but is struggling (even though he has a macbook--isn't it true that if you buy a mac, you'll be able to write the next, great American novel?) and thus, has to work on it everyday. But, hey, looks like all Tim Tebow has to do to be good at football is pray (not play football his whole life). Maybe if Michael just struck that pose between paragraphs everything would work out. 

Or, maybe this is what really happened:

Just watch for Gandalf Michael. 

I bet you didn't think this post was going to end with a picture of Gandalf and Tim Tebow, did you? I'm a multifaceted blogger.

Moose Met a French Moose

Today, Michael and I drove up to Coeur d'Alene. We visited a few art galleries in town and drove around the lake. I was very pretty, albeit very cold and very covered in dead fish.

 Moose is there, but it looks more like Michael's wearing a skirt. 

 Michael wonders why any settlers, upon seeing Coeur d'Alene, would continue on to Spokane. I tried to argue that early Spokanians didn't have a meth problem, like most of them do now, but after seeing Coeur d'Alene, I agree with him--it's beautiful and I kind of wish he lived there instead. We did avoid the turn off to the white suprematist camp, however.

We also saw a bald eagle, which made me wish I had a better camera. Really though, look how great this picture could be:

 Can you see the eagle in flight?

Suddenly! We noticed that Coeur d'Alene has a kind of film theme: MOOSE. So, we spent the rest of the day introducing Moose to moose.