Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Sneak Peek!
I'm saving most of the pics of the wedding for the Open House slideshow, but here are some favorite pics of Jeff and Sherry. Awww...aren't they so cute!
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Stadium of Fire
So I haven't written in a while. Oh well. To sum up the week, I spent the week with my awesome co-worker Sarai. I worked during the day and socialized during the evening. My first day at work, I took my lunch break to get some missionary medical completed ... whuch unfortunately lasted for two hours making me an hour late for work. I was put on some antibiotics and on my second day of work, I quickly learned that the meds made my skin sensitive and I had an awful reaction to the sun. The funny thing is that I was wearing gloves and I had a glove line. I made sure to not wear gloves with excess exposure to the sun to try and tan my hands with the burn on my arms. Haha ... I looked quite burned. It was hilarious! Thankfully I started to tan out through the week. Well, I got to run into some of my film friends who were assisting with the set design, meet old friends from past crews, and even make some new ones. I do enjoy all the people I get to meet and interact with. I was able to help out the guitar tech for the Jonas Brothers. That was a lot of fun. The first time I helped change strings on a guitar (accidentally snapping one). I just find it funny that the first guitar string I snap is on a Jonas Brothers guitar. No worried ... we were changing the strings so no harm. Probably helped change strings on at least six or eight guitars. I really enjoyed learning another aspect of stage and helping however I could. Another Stadium of Fire is done. My fourth year ... and it may possibly be my last. We will see what the future holds.
The 15 golden rules of theatre etiquette
1 Don’t just switch off your mobile in response to what’s very likely a cute invitation from some fake-friendly voice. Make sure it’s off before you enter the theatre, thus making sure that you’re not publicly humiliated by Richard Griffiths or A.N. Other.
2 Never whisper, let alone talk, during the performance. If you’re hard of hearing, hire a loop rather than bother your companion for info about the plot. And don’t hum along with songs, even if they’re by Rodgers and Hammerstein.
3 Don’t bring picnics. In fact, don’t eat anything, not even your fingernails, even if the play is, well, nail-biting. If you must buy an ice cream in the interval, make sure you finish it and dispose of the carton before the restart. The scraping at remnants sounds like scratching on a wall.
4 If you fear that you’ll cough, bring a handkerchief to smother your mouth and pastilles to put in it. Considerate theatregoers would rather asphyxiate than interrupt a good actor.
5 Always apologise if someone is forced to stand as you make your way to your seat, but if you are late (and you should never be) reduce your apology to a quick, sorrowful nod.
6 Don’t clap actors’s entrances, even if they’re famous, or their exits, even if they make them in the swaggering style that half-invites applause. All this is dated and naff and makes you look like a celeb-hungry prat.
7 Have nothing to do with standing ovations unless a performance is close to a once-in-a-lifetime experience. In America such ovations have become meaningless and, if they don’t occur, they indicate disapproval. We don’t want them to become regular here.
8 If a friend is on stage in a comedy or farce, or has written one, don’t pile on the laughter. The artificiality is usually transparent enough to make failure more and not less likely.
9 If you must go to that often obnoxious, spuriously glitzy occasion, the first night, don’t ponce about pretending to be an important guest, even if you are one. Think of your fellow audience members and the actors, both of whom want to get on with the show. And that show isn’t about you.
10 No need to dress up, let alone wear dinner jackets and evening gowns, as was once the case. But try to be a little better dressed than the critics, who often look as they’ve been grabbed from a washing machine that hasn’t yet been turned on.
11 If you see a sleeping critic don’t necessarily wake him or her up, as guilt is likely to ensure that his or her review is more favourable than it might otherwise be. But don’t let him sleep too deeply or he may (and this has happened) crash into or across an aisle, causing injury to the innocent. And snoring is unacceptable, whoever does it and however awful the show.
12 If critics irk you by scratching notes on a pad, be forgiving. They’re only doing their jobs. And virtually all critics accept that lighted pens, once common, are now verboten. If you see a critic turn one on, whisper something tactfully germane, like “you blind sod, switch it off”.
13 If the child you’re bringing is chatty, gag it. If it’s fidgety, handcuff and shackle it. And if you’re altruistic enough to bring a school party to a Shakespeare matinée, threaten potential wrongdoers with tickets to the next revival of Timon of Athens, to be followed by a ten-page essay on the ethics of Apemantus.
14 Try your hardest not to be tall, which means shunning headgear and primped-up hair. And if you can’t help your height, ask for a seat on the aisle or somewhere where you won’t interfere with people’s sightlines.
15 If you are maddened by a fellow member of the audience, postpone a serious or violent encounter until a suitable pause in the action, preferably the interval. But usually a schoolmarmy stare and an English sniff, followed by a reproachful smile, will suffice.
Source: From Times Online, written by Benedict Nightingale on June 19, 2009. http://entertainment.timesonline.co.uk/tol/arts_and_entertainment/stage/theatre/article6535773.ece
2 Never whisper, let alone talk, during the performance. If you’re hard of hearing, hire a loop rather than bother your companion for info about the plot. And don’t hum along with songs, even if they’re by Rodgers and Hammerstein.
3 Don’t bring picnics. In fact, don’t eat anything, not even your fingernails, even if the play is, well, nail-biting. If you must buy an ice cream in the interval, make sure you finish it and dispose of the carton before the restart. The scraping at remnants sounds like scratching on a wall.
4 If you fear that you’ll cough, bring a handkerchief to smother your mouth and pastilles to put in it. Considerate theatregoers would rather asphyxiate than interrupt a good actor.
5 Always apologise if someone is forced to stand as you make your way to your seat, but if you are late (and you should never be) reduce your apology to a quick, sorrowful nod.
6 Don’t clap actors’s entrances, even if they’re famous, or their exits, even if they make them in the swaggering style that half-invites applause. All this is dated and naff and makes you look like a celeb-hungry prat.
7 Have nothing to do with standing ovations unless a performance is close to a once-in-a-lifetime experience. In America such ovations have become meaningless and, if they don’t occur, they indicate disapproval. We don’t want them to become regular here.
8 If a friend is on stage in a comedy or farce, or has written one, don’t pile on the laughter. The artificiality is usually transparent enough to make failure more and not less likely.
9 If you must go to that often obnoxious, spuriously glitzy occasion, the first night, don’t ponce about pretending to be an important guest, even if you are one. Think of your fellow audience members and the actors, both of whom want to get on with the show. And that show isn’t about you.
10 No need to dress up, let alone wear dinner jackets and evening gowns, as was once the case. But try to be a little better dressed than the critics, who often look as they’ve been grabbed from a washing machine that hasn’t yet been turned on.
11 If you see a sleeping critic don’t necessarily wake him or her up, as guilt is likely to ensure that his or her review is more favourable than it might otherwise be. But don’t let him sleep too deeply or he may (and this has happened) crash into or across an aisle, causing injury to the innocent. And snoring is unacceptable, whoever does it and however awful the show.
12 If critics irk you by scratching notes on a pad, be forgiving. They’re only doing their jobs. And virtually all critics accept that lighted pens, once common, are now verboten. If you see a critic turn one on, whisper something tactfully germane, like “you blind sod, switch it off”.
13 If the child you’re bringing is chatty, gag it. If it’s fidgety, handcuff and shackle it. And if you’re altruistic enough to bring a school party to a Shakespeare matinée, threaten potential wrongdoers with tickets to the next revival of Timon of Athens, to be followed by a ten-page essay on the ethics of Apemantus.
14 Try your hardest not to be tall, which means shunning headgear and primped-up hair. And if you can’t help your height, ask for a seat on the aisle or somewhere where you won’t interfere with people’s sightlines.
15 If you are maddened by a fellow member of the audience, postpone a serious or violent encounter until a suitable pause in the action, preferably the interval. But usually a schoolmarmy stare and an English sniff, followed by a reproachful smile, will suffice.
Source: From Times Online, written by Benedict Nightingale on June 19, 2009. http://entertainment.timesonline.co.uk/tol/arts_and_entertainment/stage/theatre/article6535773.ece
Friday, June 26, 2009
Missionary for a Day
Okay...actually I was a missionary for a day and a half. The Sister Missionaries in my home stake always look for members to join them at lessons. I went out twice, onece to a canceled lesson, and another going to the visitor center to see the Joseph Smith movie. Well, three days ago, one of the sisters became sick and because I have nothing happening in my life, I was able to go out on "splits" for two day. First day was from about 3pm to 10pm and the second day from 8am to 10pm. I'm glad to have had the opportunity to catch a glimpse into the life of a missionary. Most of the appointments were canceled and few wanted to talk with us, but that's okay with me. I was raised knowing a mission is not a picnic. I'm not going for the title or glory that some may still think comes in being called a missionary. I don't care about the number of baptisms or huge success stories. I have toured around the world with the BYU Dance Department: I have met so many different people, felt the spirit in many different circumstances, and after the many blessings that the Lord has given me, it is my time to give my time and talents fully to him for eighteen months. I will be grateful for any place I am called to serve. Talking with several different return missionaries, I know it is not easy. It is exhausting physically and mentally, but I am ready for it for I know it will give me the strength and growth that the Lord has planned for me if I just continue to follow His guidance. I am ready to serve.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Auguste Rodin
Okay, so back when I was visiting all of those museums while on the dance tour, I ran into a statue by Auguste Rodin as seen here. (I'm thinking this was at the Art Institute of Chicago Museum.) Anyways, when I had exited from the hallway of paintings and entered into a white breezeway, I came upon this sculpture. It really grabbed my attention. My first thought was that this must be a sculpture of Achilles since the grief in his face as he is pointing down to his heel. What a shock it was to read on the plaque that it was entitled "Adam". What?! "Adam" can't be right. How does this statue express the father of mankind? After the Fall, I see the expression of grief, but why does he point downward? What is that expressing? I read that this was originally going to be part of an entrance portal entitled "Gates of Hell", however the museum it was planned for was never built. I really like the fact that it was depicting Dante's Inferno...so now I feel like I should reread it to find when Adam and Eve are mentioned and figure out what Rodin is wanting to present. 
I finally found the small figurine entitled "Eve" which took a lot of searching. Amazingly, "Adam" was the only art piece in the room, at least six feet high while "Eve" was in a glass case in the corner among other figurines less then a foot high in a room full of paintings. Odd, isn't it? It is also sad to see his representation of Eve. She is expressing full shame, hiding her face and unwilling to show her face, blocking herself with her hands. I hope to one day see a representation of Eve after the fall that shows an LDS perspective. She knew the consequences of her choice and chose procreation over innocence in the Garden. What emotion do we believe she was expressing? What would Adam and Eve's reaction and emotion have been as they left the Garden?
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