Thursday, October 11, 2012
Saturday, September 1, 2012
Saturday, August 25, 2012
Monday, August 13, 2012
Friday, August 10, 2012
|Myself, Brooke, then Brittany|
SORRY FOR MUSIC OVERLOAD... oh wait. Psych!
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
|My dream house...|
|I bought 3 of these picture frames. It fits my painting nicely!|
|The whole in my mint green cardigan that I tried to darn... darn those holes!|
|Spray painted mirror... check!|
|To be sewn on this skirt|
|My dress that I can't wait to wear!|
|I'm putting up 3 more shelves to replace my bookcase hutch above my desk. I'll be add to more books!|
|Sorry about the lighting... but this is my new dress I ordered.|
|My new skirt coming soon...gosh. I love dresses and skirts. (This one cost me a whole $12.48. No tax. No shipping charge!)|
|I color-coded my books!|
|Love that figure. Oh, I did find my Inheritance book... it is to the left. :)|
|Can't wait to put up my new shelves...|
|The sad pile of books awaiting a home. Everywhere else is full.|
|Getting ready to stuff|
|What it looked like before...|
Monday, July 23, 2012
Monday, July 16, 2012
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
I think my journal is starting to dislike me. Not that I usually vent out to its pages, but lately venting is all that I can really do. It isn't harsh or harmful teenage venting that one usually sees in society, nor is it any kind of heart-breaking drama. (I'm counting my blessings here.) Instead, it is me trying to get a grasp on accepting myself for coming in short of expectations. For example:
- My room is in constant need of being clean. No matter how often I clean or re-organize it always ends up looking like I've been robbed.
- I have been unable to meet commitments because I'm meeting other commitments. I've had to work the past 2 times when I've supposed to volunteer at the SMOFA, I feel like a flake.
- I need to get started on my online class, P.E. packets, and summer homework. Except I've been gone most of June and haven't had the time to start...
- I haven't touched my viola in a month. I'm doomed.
- My AP scores and just grades in general
- I haven't accomplished most of my summer to-do list- which is depressing since most of those things that I want to do are fun and relaxing and are what I wanted to get done this summer.
- Keeping in touch with friends- sorry everyone about that.
- Not being able to say what I want to say
- Getting photos of my recent festivities to my Grandma Herdman (I'm working on it!)
- I've only read 4 books this summer. PATHETIC. I work 9 hours a week which isn't a whole lot and I usually just waste it away on pinterest. I need to read more. Much more.
- Filling up my poetry and quotes zine- I'm not even close.
- I didn't even try to start a garden...
- Feeling slightly pitiful and sorry for myself, which I am happy to say doesn't last more than an hour. :)
- I've also been staying up WAY too late for no particular reasons and then I frantically scramble each morning to travel to my volunteering and internship...
- Being late to a babysitting job BECAUSE I was writing this pathetic post. Yep. 10 minutes late.
- Leaving a pot of boiling water on the stove to evaporate and then have an angry mother call to tell you about it.
- Missing my long hair....
Saturday, July 7, 2012
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Sunday, May 27, 2012
|Poppies- my favorite flower and in honor of WW1|
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
*sorry for the washed out, awkardly lighted photos. I took them in semi darkness with my phone (again). I was too lazy to find batteries for my camera for a semi decent photo. Good thing it's just food!*
Monday, April 30, 2012
Last night when I was checking my sister's blog, I came across her recent entry, entitled "General Happiness". Her post sprouted my idea to write a post of my own, mirroring just what makes me generally happy too.
Kelsey's General Happiness List:
1. Looking at other people's artwork
2. Carnations, tulips, poppies, and lavender
3. Harmonizing to music
4. Handwritten notes or letters
5. Watching other drivers
6. Old postcards, maps, and books
7. Yard sales and thrift stores
8. Fresh bread and butter
9. Cloudy days-because I know there will be a spectacular sunset that evening
1o. New National Geographics
11. Having someone wave at me or give me a hug
12. Sharing Ritz crackers
13. Discussing world events
14. Woolen socks tucked over comfy pants
15. Love stories, yes even the bittersweet
16. Chirping birds in Aspen trees
17. Driving on a freeway/highway in the country
18. Gloves or mittens
19. Dancing and singing in the rain
2o. Autumn leaves and their smell
21. "How we met" stories
22. My smudge that I get from writing on my left hand
24. Little kid voices and baby giggles
25. Reading under a tree or during a rainstorm
26. Cheesy pick-up lines from roguish lads
28. Bow ties
29. Staring at fires and the red embers
30. Oatmeal with brown sugar and cinnamon
31. BLTs, ice cream, soup, peaches, peas, tomatoes, and watermelon
32. Temple trips!
33. Family campouts and boardgame playing
34. Pearls and old fashioned things
35. Finding constellations and shooting stars in the night sky
36. The joy of watching my family and friends grow up, achieve what they worked for, and making memories
37. And of course, good ol' jazz, bluegrass, and big band swing
Well, those are a few of my favorite things, and you know what? Just typing out each of them has already brightened my afternoon as I go to my last night to volunteer at the library until June, and start studying for my upcoming tests next week. For more good news my Kaplan AP Euro History book came in the mail today!
Isn't today gorgeous?
-The Littlest Herdman
Monday, April 23, 2012
...that Jim Bob survives from my neglect. I realized yesterday that he's mostly a goner. He may pull through! The thing with plants and me is that I get concerned with other things and I just assume my plant can hang on a few days in the sun, a little parched. I PROMISE I take better care of children. Relating this to a philosophical metaphor, it is time for me to focus on the things that do matter, such as my upcoming tests and getting my mind back to health away from distractions.
Dear Summer, I know that I usually dislike you, but can we please make up and have you come quickly? I miss your bozaz, spunk, and careless frolicking.
-The Littlest Herdman
P.S. I also promise I'll post about the mentioned things in the past "p.s." very soon.
Saturday, April 21, 2012
Friday, March 30, 2012
|Before hair cut.|
|After hair cut.|
|Look at them locks!|
This week I've had either horrible allergies or a stubborn cold. I'm not sure which. One thing I do know is that I sound like an addicted smoker of 43 years, I cough and choke when I laugh, and croak while singing Regina Spektor. One of my teachers asked me if I was taking my vitamins, was unstressed, and getting enough sleep. I scored a solid zero on all accounts. Going back to how this relates to a pot of grass, I've learned most importantly that our trials, experiences, and the lessons learned from them can uplift others (My voice made many people laugh and smile- along with my herbal tea in English), and teach you to be patient with yourself.
|My favorite painting at the SMOFA, from the High School Art Show.|
Monday, March 26, 2012
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Ink, watercolor and gold on paper
Syria or India, 14th – 15th century
|Falnama Manuscript Painting of the|
Virgin Mary and Baby Jesus
Gouache on cloth
India or the Ottoman Empire,
|Qur’an Manuscript, Volume16|
Ink and color on burnished cream paper with
brown morocco binding
|Tile Mosaic Fragment (Alicatado)|
Tin glazed earthenware
| Parokhet (Torah Curtain)|
Egypt (Cairo), early 17th century,
Cast bronze with engraved decoration
Spain (possibly Cordoba),
`"What do you suppose pilots do when they encounter turbulence? A student pilot may think that increasing speed is a good strategy because it will get them through the turbulence faster. But that may be the wrong thing to do. Professional pilots understand that there is an optimum turbulence penetration speed that will minimize the negative effects of turbulence. And most of the time that would mean to reduce your speed. The same principle applies also to speed bumps on a road....
When stress levels rise, when distress appears, when tragedy strikes, too often we attempt to keep up the same frantic pace or even accelerate, thinking somehow that the more rushed our pace, the better off we will be.
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
No, this is not the Littlest Herdman. This is her friend, having fun on her blog. I hope you all enjoy reading her witty comments each day (or as often as she posts, rather), because I certainly do. I hope you all have a lovely Tuesday! - cheers, Willie.
Saturday, March 10, 2012
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Dropped off on my lawn on Valentine's Day, this golden item hosted a roll of toilet paper with the question "If you've got to go, go me! El Cheapo with Andrew Tate?" Of course I said "I would love to!" El Cheapo was our school's Winter/Spring dance that was casually based.
Our group consisted of 14 marvelous folk: Beno Seely and Alyssa Gates, Nate Frei and Emma Chapman, Parker Young and Jennifer, Michael and Kristen, Simon and Emily, Josh Dawson and Megan Asplund, Andrew and me. Andrew Tate is a superb friend, who I could easily write a series of blog posts on how suave is (if you're curious, you can click on his name).
After being picked up in a dashing El Cheapo van, we headed to Kiwanis park, where we entertained ourselves in chalk art featuring: fruit pictures, our dates, Y-mount - or a noble pirate ship that Andrew and I sketched- and a hit-man (shown below).
|An areal shot of our group mural. Michael is standing on Andrew's shoulders. See our hit-man's staff?|
|Our treasures. (Parker and Jennifer aren't pictured... sorry guys!)|
|The coolest books ever! (I am laughing here...)|
|Candlelit dinner with our Cup O' Noodles which warmed our hands quite nicely.|
|Yes Andrew. I suppose you rather are steamy.|
|Four out of our seven fantastic dancers!|
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
on our skin, in our hearts.
Sorrow crept at the cracks
of our tears gathering.
Nearer came the train
to bring us apart
I wrote this snippet of poetry on January 21st, in honor of WW1 soldiers leaving their loved-ones. I usually get these urges to write- but time and the bustling of life usually gets in the way. Actually, I just don't make time for it. I am trying to improve and I have a few more ideas for some poems and I am really excited to test them out. I would love your feedback on this little bit! (I feel like it's a bit bland...) I apologize for this short entry, I'll recap soon!
Saturday, February 25, 2012
As far as music goes, I am working on Allemande by J.S. Bach and Minet's Old French Dances. They are gorgeous. I've also recently been obsessed with Classical 89 radio. They play the best variety of classical music, along with Spanish guitar and for an added bonus they play BBC World News at the start of very hour.
I am also currently working on a project similar to the one that I started with this blog. I am collecting poetry, written works (word clambake!), and quotes into my book I made at my writing summer class in 2010. So far,I have a many poems my dear Ms. Dickinson, William Wordsworth, Robert Burns, Kipling, Byron, Keats, Moore, Andrew Marvell, and my new favorite: Billy Collins. I was introduced to Billy Collins from one of the other English teachers at Timpview. His books The Trouble with Poetry, The Art of Drowning, and Sailing Alone Around the Room are my favorites. His poem, Monday highlights his particular style that I am in love with:
The birds are in their trees,
the toast is in the toaster,
and the poets are at their windows.
They are at their windows
in every section of the tangerine of earth-
the Chinese poets looking up at the moon,
the American poets gazing out
at the pink and blue ribbons of sunrise.
The clerks are at their desks,
the miners are down in their mines,
and the poets are looking out their windows
maybe with a cigarette, a cup of tea,
and maybe a flannel shirt or bathrobe is involved.
The proofreaders are playing the ping-pong
game of proofreading,
glancing back and forth from page to page,
the chefs are dicing celery and potatoes,
and the poets are at their windows
because it is their job for which
they are paid nothing every Friday afternoon.
Which window it hardly seems to matter
though many have a favorite,
for there is always something to see-
a bird grasping a thin branch,
the headlights of a taxi rounding a corner,
those two boys in wool caps angling across the street.
The fishermen bob in their boats,
the linemen climb their round poles,
the barbers wait by their mirrors and chairs,
and the poets continue to stare
at the cracked birdbath or a limb knocked down by the wind.
By now, it should go without saying
that what the oven is to the baker
and the berry-stained blouse to the dry cleaner,
so the window is to the poet.
before the invention of the window,
the poets would have had to put on a jacket
and a winter hat to go outside
or remain indoors with only a wall to stare at.
And when I say a wall,
I do not mean a wall with striped wallpaper
and a sketch of a cow in a frame.
I mean a cold wall of fieldstones,
the wall of the medieval sonnet,
the original woman's heart of stone,
the stone caught in the throat of her poet-lover.
There is just a crisp, concise organization of brilliance that he has. I'm sure you'll hear more from me about this chap. I just realized that I have so much more to say but I want to break up this post into a few parts. The ones coming up after this one shortly will be about my experiences writing this year, more poems I need to share that I've written and collected, my suave date with Mr. Tate (yes, it does indeed rhyme) and friends and other marvels.