Always there

I stumbled upon a blog called Shutter Sisters the other day. I have really enjoyed reading and following some of the posts. One of the recent posts that really caused me to reflect is called Always There. The idea is "today, show us something about your routine, your family, something that is close to your heart. Something that is always there, even when you are not looking." Obviously, because the blog is heavily linked to photography, there are some brilliant thoughts and imagery. But the post really caused me to reflect on what is always there in my life that I often don't give attention to, or don't see, or withhold affection from simply because it is exactly that: always there. I want to do a project along those lines. Keep checking back for that one. Some of the things in my life that are always there are really abstract. Others are very tangible. This sounds fun. Anyone that wants to share, feel free.

On an unrelated note. I uploaded a bunch of images to Flickr the other day under the username Idahoboy Jay. Most are not family images, just color and composition studies. Many are from my grad work, so you may have seen them, but if you are interested...

Oh, Eddie... If I woke up tomorrow with my head sewn to the carpet, I wouldn't be more surprised than I am now.

I know all four of you are surprised, but, I am writing anyway. I was reading through a magazine tonight trying to get some inspiration for my work and I read about a blogger by the name of Andrea Lampman. She said her goal for her blog is: Honesty above all else, and whining is not an option. I have really been thinking about that this evening and thinking what a great sentiment it is. Especially in conjunction with the scriptures. I was reading from the Book of Mormon in 1st Nephi again tonight (yes, because I am starting over again) and in the very first verse I was reminded of something. Nephi says, "having seen many afflictions in the course of my days, nevertheless, having been highly favored of the Lord in all my days...". I love the fact that he states very matter-of-factly first that he has seen many afflictions. No whining. In fact, almost proudly. Then followed up immediately by the fact that he is highly favored by the Lord. This is a guy who gets it. He understands that is is because the Lord loves him and has big plans for him that he has seen many afflictions. It is so easy sometimes to forget that. It is the refiners fire.

I like the analogy of the sword. The process of making a Japanese Samurai sword is very complex, but the part I like refers to the making of the outer skin of the blade. This is an excerpt I found on Wikipedia. "...the outer skin of the blade, is produced by heating a block of high quality raw steel, which is then hammered out into a bar, and the flexible back portion. This is then cooled and broken up into smaller blocks which are checked for further impurities and then reassembled and reforged. During this process the billet of steel is heated and hammered, split and folded back upon itself many times and re-welded to create a complex structure of many thousands of layers. Each different steel is folded differently to provide the necessary strength and flexibility to the different steels." I love the visuals of the layers of the sword. Without that process, the sword would be less flexible, less strong and more prone to breaking in battle. Today, as we battle for our spiritual lives constantly, it is nice to know that the Lord loves us and that we have our trials because we are "highly favored". And, if we persevere without whining, actively looking for the lessons and the principles the Lord would have us learn, our blade gets stonger and stonger. Our learning increases, our love increases and we become more able to serve Him and his children.

And while you're at it, get someone to clean these windows, there's filth and muck all over them.

I love my son Topher, he has always been very practical. He tends to be organized and intellectual and tries to do the right thing. He is also very considerate (usually). He is a good worker and when he is in a good mood, he will go and go. (No, he's not a perfect child, there are other moods...whoa).

He made me laugh tonight though. We were over feeding the pigs with the Johnsons this evening, which can take a while. Nate gets the produce from a local grocery store here that they are throwing out and feeds his pigs with that. We typically have to dig through a little bit and get any wrappers off any pre-packaged stuff as well as rubber bands and twist ties from bundled veggies. Nate has noticed recently that his pigs have become somewhat picky and are choosing to ignore citrus. Now all citrus gets tossed into the compost pile. This becomes quite a wonderful game for the 4 boys that that typically help with chores over there. (Topher, Ronan, and Nate's oldest boys, Isaac and Virg).

All of the boys were reaching in and snagging the citrus to throw on the compost pile, (probably 50-75 ft. away) and of course, it is wet and sticky. Topher, who is also somewhat fastidious, would toss something into the pile, and then come over and put his hand on my shoulder in what I interpreted to be a gesture of affection. After a few times, I saw him toss a another orange or lemon or something and put his hand on Isaac's shoulder.

Well I realized that, Topher was not being affectionate, but rather his practical side was taking over. In the absence of wipes or paper towels he was very affectionately wiping his hands on those around him to expunge the sticky, wet produce residue from his hands.

Ha.

Boy, what in THE hell's the matter with you?

Anyone know what movie the title quote is from?

Well, Lauralee has been hassling me to post again, so, here goes. As a teenager, I had one real friend. Really. Anyone heard the song by Tracy Lawrence called, "You Find Out Who Your Friends Are"?

You find out who your friends are
Somebody's gonna drop everything
Run out and crank up their car
Hit the gas, get there fast
Never stop to think 'what's in it for me?' or 'it's way too far'
They just show on up with their big old heart
You find out who your friends are

That is a segment from the song. The one friend I could count on in high school to be there always was Andy Bell. I think one of the reasons he was my friend was because my Mom is such an amazing cook. Andy had a love affair with food. He was an athlete who lettered in 3 sports every year so he could pound food like no other. Especially Mom's chocolate chip cookies. He and I could eat a whole batch after school (and frequently did). Another reason he was my friend was that he was one of about 4 students in our huge high school that actually lived farther from than the school than I did, albeit not by much. We also shared the loss of a parent. His mother passed away a couple of years after Dad did, and I think Joan-Bob became the mother to him that he lost.

Anyway, Andy and I couldn't be more different from each other in many ways. He was the consummate athlete. I was the band geek. He was superbly fit. I was not. He was smooth in a crowd, I was not. In an attempt to create a common experience for ourselves other than chocolate chip cookies at the bar at home, Andy talked me into joining the track team our junior year, I think it was. Remember, team sports typically have not agreed with me.

So what was I suited to do on a track team? Exactly nothing. What did I do? I ran a lot. Did I run any races? No. Did I see any competition? Nope. Andy was a really good discus thrower and shot-putter. Like I said, he lettered in three sports. Track and Field was one. Rather unwisely, I chose the same events as Andy. So I was second-string discus and shot put right? Nope. There was one other guy who was better than me at both events. I was THIRD string at the discus and shot put (out of 3). I even convinced Mom that I "needed" and pair of running spikes for track. I chose the most outrageous spikes there were in the whole store. They were Nikes, but they were neon yellow, green and orange. Unbelievable. I was mental in high school think, because after track season I cut off the hard plastic areas where the spikes go and slathered the whole area liberally with "Shoe Goo". That way I could wear those hideous things year round. What was I thinking?



Now for the point of the story. Andy and I figured it would be a wise use of our time to practice said events at Joan-Bob's house over the weekend, laboring under the false delusion that I might improve and potentially move from third string to second. So, with permission, we carried home a 16 lb lead ball and a 4.4 lb rubber disc home with us to "practice".

Now being the incredibly dedicated athletes that we were, we immediately began practice in earnest. (after a batch of cookies). After about 14 seconds, boredom set in, so we started looking for more innovative ways to make the shot put travel. The trampoline. Physics dictate that using it's own weight, it should go really high, right? I volunteered to start the 16 lb. lead ball in motion. If I remember right, Andy acquiesced quite quickly, possibly having thought through the process and inevitable result more completely than I.

Turns out we were right! The shot put did ascend quite rapidly, and appeared to be headed quite high, when in fact, it met with resistance in the form of my mouth, effectively stopping it's upward progress and causing both it, and myself, to fall back toward the trampoline. The shot put was completely unaffected while I writhed on the woven mat in agony, clutching my mouth and mumbling to Andy not to tell my mom. Well, as fate would have it, when I went in for dinner, Mom noticed the gaping whole where my left front tooth had been significantly damaged by our physics experiment, and we had to come clean about the whole thing. You know, how I had tried to stand up for a girl at school when seven or eight guys jumped me and started kicking me in the face and...No not really, we did come clean. Besides the shot put and the tooth were still on the trampoline.

I was lucky in that I didn't break so much off that it couldn't be repaired with a filling, and it was so convincing that most people have never been the wiser. I have had it repaired twice since then. The first time by a dentist in SLC, and the second time out here. The time out here, the filling fell out one day while eating, and I managed to notice it before I swallowed it. Of course we did have company over at the time, so I had to cover my mouth the rest of the night to avoid looking like some redneck off of Hee-Haw. After that, I super-glued it on for about two months while putting off going to the dentist. I would glue it, it would hold for a week or so, depending on what I was eating, and then fall of again. Repeat cycle. (Jared, are you reading this? You should be breaking out in cold sweats by now.) I can understand why they tell you not to inhale that stuff!

It is once again repaired, but this time the dentist left a slight gap in my front teeth. I'm not sure why he would do that. I didn't have a gap when he pulled the super-glued tooth off. Why add one? I can shoot a stream a water out between my teeth now.

Anyway, thought I'd get that one down for the posterity. A lovely example of how not to practice with your shot put.

Luckily, we never got around to the discus.

Happy birthday, Lauralee!

Lauralee-I am constantly grateful for you, and I know I don't say it enough. I am blessed to have someone to walk with me while we guide our family. I am grateful for the gift you have with young children, especially because it not one of my strengths. I love to listen to the kids talk about the scriptures because they already know them better than I do. Thank you for that. Thank you for being an example to me with personal prayer. You are a constant reminder for me that my connection with the Lord should be more consistent. Thank you for gently reminding me when I have neglected something, instead of nagging me. Thank you for making meals and cleaning the house and doing laundry. Thank you for suggesting and following through with fun activities and games for the family. Thank for never putting me down in front of the kids (even though you have pretty of opportunity). Thank you for being willing to discuss hard things with me. Thank you for finding the sacred value in being a mother and doing mother things. Thank you for not begrudging me for being the provider and all that goes with that. Thank you for putting up with a husband who is a curmudgeon more than his fair share of the time. Thank you for providing me with so many good memories. Thank you for supporting me during times of trial and periods that were very hard for you. Thank you for being active in the education and school classes of the kids. Thanks for being a support to young women who are trying to get the courage to go on missions or even just trying to stay active in the church. Thanks for being sincere. So sincere, in fact, that it is the quality that most people recognize in you first. Thanks for sacrificing for the good of the family. Thanks for being worthy to have the Holy Ghost with you always. Thanks for being patient with me while I grow.

Thank you, Lauralee Burton Hill.
Happy Birthday.
I love you.

Hello? Come in. Are you there?

Cell phones are temporarily down. Call us on the home phone.

Kids and fall in New Hampshire

As hard as it is to be away from family, we have some really unique blessings living in New Hampshire. One, living in a picture postcard is pretty cool. A month or so ago, just after peak color, we turned our normal 30 minute commute home from church into a 2 stop and go with tons of picture taking along the way. As you will see, it was a fruitful afternoon. The image above was taken just up the dirt road from where our cabin was for our first year in NH. I did a little manipulation to it. Let me know if it looks too cheesy. For some reason, probably living across from one the whole time we were in grad school, our family has a little thing for graveyards. We lucked out in that respect, because they are all over here. Tiny little graveyards with really cool headstones. Not sure what it is about them, but we love them.

Thanks Mom, I know you are the only one still reading

Anyone who knows me really well, knows I have a thing for Ampersands. Silly little symbols that represent the word 'and'. If fact, I have done at least one other post exclusively about the auspicious little symbol. I have taken to analyzing ampersands from different typefaces and comparing differences and then creating designs using the symbols as the subject matter. Deep internal meaning? I doubt it. I just like the little symbol. I have recently made pretty much everyone aware of my fascination recently by the design I have installed on my office door. Obsession? Maybe.

This is only a test...

Here is a photo of a 1964 Ford almost exactly like my dad bought from Grandad when I was a kid. He bought it for a buck I think. The most clear memory I have with this truck is with my dad. He was driving me to the hospital. At this point I don't trust any of my memories because any time I offer one up, Mom and JeNeale contradict me with a false version of that memory that they have been collaborating on for years, so I don't have a chance. But here it is anyway. Mom and JeNeale, feel free to correct me. Ha.

My friend Blair Carpenter and I had ridden our bikes down to the "lower" Highlander. (Now bike is a relative term. I was riding JeNeale's old red, white, and blue girls bike with the banana seat and ape-hanger handlebars. Blair was riding an old junker his Dad had picked up at the Base dumpster and "fixed up"). This was in the early days, because the section of the subdivision between Cloverdale and Valley road was not completely built in with houses yet and it was still dirt. Almost. Foolishly, the contractors had poured the cement curbs and had left the whole street unattended for the night. Well, Blair and I (I think I was about 9 or 10) decided to try a physics experiment. We thought we should test the trajectory of a rock thrown against those gorgeous cement curbs to see what direction it would go and how much velocity it would carry. After several tries, we still lacked documented, quantifiable evidence, but we were really flinging those rocks! We got our evidence, however, when, as I was bending down to pick up our next test subject, Blair threw his. Well, as I sat screaming in the street, bleeding in the dirt from a fresh head wound, Blair stood there frozen not knowing what to do, a neighbor lady came out with a bright white towel to put on my head. She drove me home. Mom and Dad debated briefly and Mom won out of course. (Thankfully. Dad would have probably poured alcohol on it and duck taped it). But Dad is the one who drove me to the hospital. As we drove in red Ford to the hospital, Dad tried to comfort me. He said over and over again, "Jay, don't got to sleep. you might die before we get there!" Ha!

Our findings:

1. We found that the rocks went really fast, and location and direction were very unpredictable.
2. The rocks, when richocheting off cement curbs, can cause concussions and cuts that require stitches to close.

Truck: A Love Story

I am sorry for my silence. A six-week hiatus with family and friends was bad enough, but then trying to catch up from said break, starting school and creating a couple of new syllabi have provided me with sufficient justification so as to avoid having to write for a while.

Well, I have finally found an author that writes like I would like to write if I could string two words together in a coherent sentence. Michael Perry. Author of Truck: A Love Story and Population:485. That said, Truck is a better read than Population: 485. There a several swears in the aforementioned book, that while he is quoting other folks, still grate a little. Truck was just pure pleasure for me. Here is a review from Amazon.

"One wouldn't think that repairing a beat-up old pickup could become a life-altering undertaking. And yet, for Perry, it was all that and more: an epic adventure that encompassed love, diplomacy, a little hydroponics, and even some danger (like setting yourself on fire). Perry, who is also the author of -Population: 485 (2002), propels the story forward as if he were writing a novel, helped by a cast of characters who range from the lightly offbeat to the totally bizarre. The prose is straightforward, almost deadpan, but behind the words, the reader feels a heightened sense of irony, as though Perry knows how weird it all is but figures, what the heck, it's true so why not just go with it. The heart of the book tells dual love stories--man and truck; man and woman--that are, in their own ways, equally passionate. Perry writes about fixing his truck as if he was resurrecting it, but in fact, he may more accurately be said to have been resurrecting himself. The truck is transformed, certainly, but the multiplicity of changes that Perry goes through run deeper and likely will last longer." David Pitt
Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved

One of my favorite parts of this book is his attempts at growing a garden. It won't be for everyone, but I loved every minute of it. Here's one of my favorite quotes from the book:

"I am happy to live in a place where I can chuck a washing machine out my back door and no one judges my behavior unusual"

Here's a link to an excerpt for the book.

Enjoy.

Fireflies

Tonight, as I was leaving to come up here and finish up some details, I walked outside and saw a bunch of blinking neon green lights outside. I ran back inside and got the kids.

FIREFLIES!

Woo-hoo! Stampede! We all raced outside and ran around trying to catch these little blinking bugs for the next 15 minutes.

Running around the yard.
Grabbing at air.
What a great feeling.

Running.
Grabbing.
Happy.

You're killing me Smalls...

Title is obviously from one of the funniest movies of all time. Anyone want to venture a guess?

Well, Laur tells me that she has been waiting for me to write a new post. Truth is, after reading hers and JeNeale's and Marisa's and Maren's and Laurie's I am a little intimidated.

Anyway, the kids FINALLY got out of school last Friday. Between the extra week break and all of the snow days tacked on at the end of the year, I am surprised that the kids don't go year round! As it is, they will get out a week before we are leaving for vacation, and start back 3 weeks after we get back! And another thing-kids doing homework in first and second grade? Come on! I didn't do any homework until I got to college! (Which may account for the 17 on my ACT test) Ronan had homework pretty much every night this year-in second grade. Hummpffff.

Topher doesn't seemed bothered by the whole thing. In fact he rather likes school, everything about it. I'm so proud of both boys this year. Toph got several awards, but the one that means the most to me, as a father, is the citizenship award. His teacher commented that he has a strong sense of right and wrong and always chooses the right. She also said he has been a positive force in her class. Good work, Topher.

Ronan got a special award as well. He got the reading achievement award. I think this is particularly impressive, because reading did not come especially easy for Ronan. I think this is one area where tenacity, persistance and the example of his older brother and his peer group made all of the difference for Mr. Ronan. The other thing that makes so proud of the boys is that school these days is not set up for boys. There is not nearly enough physical activity. I think the guys had PE every 4 or 5 days. Plus shorter recesses and longer days. Ronan, I'm very proud of you!

Lacey finished her last year of pre-school this year at Happy Trails pre-school. This is the pre-school run by Sis. Horne across the street. She knows all of her letters and most of her numbers and she is the leader (by pure charcisma), of the class! She absolutely cannot wait for kindergarten next year. One of my favorite things she said this year was in reference to walking in flip-flops (thongs for anyone over 25). She said, "Dad, it's really hard to walk in flip-flops, I always have to hold onto them with my big toe and my almost big toe." If that won't melt a person...You did great little girl!

Now, who would of thought that at 40, (on Aug. 30) I would still be anxious to get out of school! The whole teaching gig has brought things back around so that I look forward to summer break almost as much as I did when I was a kid. Main difference is I still have to work, just not in the classroom.

Not much of a post, but I wanted to get my thoughts down about this stuff.

Now, "On to the next!" (what movie is that from?)

Cub scouts

I originally had this tacked on to the end of my previous post, but I thought I'd save it, because Ronan deserves his own post. This was about 6 weeks ago now.

Post picture here.

Ronan and I went to his Cub Scout activity tonight. This is a dreaded event. Ronan's group is huge, and there are some REALLY rambunctious kids. The event tonight was a tour of the Jaffrey Historic Society. So picture nine 7-8 year old boys walking through a building filled with old, breakable stuff, art, and rooms of Women's fashions from the 19th century, all lead by a very sweet, very old man with a quiet voice. I must say, the parents were a wreck. STOP. QUIET. BE POLITE. DON'T TOUCH. HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO ASK YOU? HEY. QUIET. ONE MORE TIME AND...! Ugh. I told Ronan before he went in that he needed to have the courage to stand alone. That even if his friends were goofing off, he needed to be polite and quiet and keep his hands to himself. I have to say, he was as good as gold. I was so proud. Not one time did anyone have to speak to him and ask him to stop. Or be quiet. It was unbelievable. Not only that, but he was so proud to have me there. I must say that I am eating that up. I am so happy that my kids don't act like their parents are the plague. We are trying to have conversations with them about some of the things typical teenagers do, in an effort to help them understand that they are silly and unnecessary. (An idea we stole from our friends the Johnson's) We'll let you know how it works. Needless to say, I was as proud of Ronan tonight as I have ever been and we had a special night. Thanks, Ronan.

Post another picture here.

Slow in the fast lane.

Hay, man. One of my favorite roadtrip views.

Once again, a long span between entries. Maybe I'm not cut out for this blogging stuff. This entry won't be much. Fortunately hardly anyone reads this, so I'm not bound by any expectations. (Whew!)

Lately I have been dreaming of the West. The east coast is really something. Trees everywhere, water in surplus, half a dozen states within a half day drive. American history sites. Church history sites. Boston. NYC. The list goes on. Nevertheless, I keep daydreaming of driving in Twin in Dad's truck, at dusk with the windows down, warm wind blowing. (maybe stopping at Sonic) I think of driving through the outskirts of Boise/Meridian/Nampa breathing in the exquisite smell of the mint fields. Driving from Rexburg to Driggs watching mile after mile of dry farms speed by in a continuous blanket of undulating gold. Sitting on Mom's back porch as the sun goes down conversing with family and friends I miss so much that sometimes I ache. Walking down Highlander in the middle of the night going from Mom's house to our old house after a day of work. I guess the siren is calling me home. There is a full moon out tonight. I mean the kind that makes a cast shadow on everything and allows a person to walk through the woods in the middle of the night without stumbling. I think that is what started my melancholy mood. That and we had the first day of 70 degree temperatures today. Driving. Windows down. Seems to be a recurring theme. Many of my memories involve driving. Road trips with the parents. Mom telling Dad in Mountain Home that she thought she left the iron on. Turning around to make sure. Iron was off. Big blue van. Station wagon. Ford Fiesta trips to Idaho Falls with 4 kids to do dental work. Back and forth to Weiser. Back and forth to Utah. Back and forth to Rexburg. Anniversary trips to Jackson Hole.

Driving with windows down.
Warm wind blowing.
What a great feeling.

Warm.
Windy.
Happy.


Hmmm. Rambling now.

By the way, the background texture in the new header is one of the ampersand patterns.

Over and out.

"It'll tickle your innards"

Some of you may remember that in my "I'm it" post, I mentioned Diet Dew as one of my bad habits. Well, I started on the real stuff back in high school. Then, in 2003, when I lost 40 lbs, I switched to diet to facilitate that effort. It worked. However, when I started eating Hostess Fruit Pies, Little Debbie Fudge Rounds, Fritos, and California Burritos from Beto's in Salt Lake, the Diet Dew just couldn't compensate. But I digress. I have always battled with drinking Mtn. Dew in front of the kids. I tell them that they shouldn't drink it because the caffeine is not good for little kids. Which is true, but if we are going to be honest, it's not good for me either. So, for some reason Lacey picked up on the word caffeine from when she was little, and as a result, when she asks me for a drink of my soda, she asks for a drink of my "caffeine". DOH! Nothing like driving home the error of your ways. Reminds me of one of my favorite movie quotes. "It appears my hypocrisy knows no bounds." Anyone know where that one comes from? There I go, tying in one of my other bad habits. Haha. The other night my sweetheart organized the kids for a Daddy family night. I'm sure it's because I was being a total curmudgeon when I got home and she wanted the kids to think good things about me, even though I didn't deserve it! Everyone wrote some fun memories they had with dad and put them in a jar and I got to pick them out and read them out loud. I tell you, the kids love it when you let them know how much you appreciate their thoughts or actions. At the end of the FHE, Laur made a little quiz about daddy's favorite things, and one of the questions was, "What is daddy's favorite soda?" As soon as it was out of Lauralee's mouth, Lacey raised her hand and shouted out,"CAFFEINE!"

Maybe I should cut back.

BTW-"It'll tickle your innards" was the Mtn. Dew slogan that was introduced in 1965 and printed on the bottles.

Mtn. Dew bottle cap image used without permission from the website of Laura and Benjamin Beamer.

Bless her very tightly!

That is a quote from Lacey. She asked us to write down during family home evening that she wanted Heavenly Father to bless London very tightly. Now if that's not adorable, I don't know what is. The other day, in response to a compliment from his mother, Ronan looked kind of sheepish and said, "Aw shucks" in a funny way and then looked around for a response. Topher has lately been cracking jokes as well. Real, legit, funny jokes. I give thanks every day for the kids we have been blessed with. I am constantly impressed with the caliber of little people they are and how much they grasp of the gospel at such a young age. I'm sure the family will remember the occasion, when we lived in Salt Lake, when the fellas were wrestling on our bed and Ronan was wearing a headband thingy-ma-gig on his head. In the middle of the fray, Topher stopped, paused, looked at Ronan and said, "You look like a Philistine!". Shortly before or after that, Mommy and Topher were tickling on the bed, when Mommy let Topher get the best of her momentarily. Topher stopped, rose straight up on his knees, held his hands above his head, and in a yell of victory yelled, "The Lord has delivered you into my hands!". Hahahahaha. Man it was funny. I still chuckle about that one.

I got released last Sunday from branch mission leader, which I have been for the last 2.5 years, and was called as the first councilor in the young men's presidency. I am super excited. We have some good strong boys, as well as a couple who are struggling with different things. Anyway, I am constantly blessed by the Lord and I am going to take Elder Eyring's advice to write more of those blessings down.

One man show

Well, at the end of January I had the opportunity for a one man show at our little gallery on campus. The work shown was a mix of new stuff, older unpublished work, and work from my grad show in summer 2005. Even with my limited experience, I have found that I have a love/hate relationship with showing my work. On one hand, it forces me to evaluate where I am at with my work; what is new, what kind of stuff I'm working on, where I want to be with my work, and what I need to accomplish to get the show put together. On the other hand, the amount of work required to do a show is staggering for all the above reasons, plus making new work, publicizing, planning the show in the gallery space, hanging the show and then doing the opening. Whew! Why would I do it? Besides the obvious boost to the ego, and the real evaluation of work, it does look good on the academic resume and my students really get a kick out of it.

Click on images to enlarge.



There were two pieces of new work in this show that I really loved. One is called "A study". Shown below. The impetus for the piece came from an assignment I give my Design 1 students. I traced many, many different letter 'A's, then cut them out, and finished by pasting them down to a piece of printmaking paper is the shape of a lowercase letter 'a' from the typeface Mrs. Eaves Roman. It got me away from the computer screen and working by hand again, which was a big deal for me.



The second is called, simply, "Dad". I took my father's name and words that I think about when I think of him, and I began layering them to create a portrait of him at the time he and my mother were married. Because I have such an affinity for words and letterforms, the portrait takes on more significance for me than just an image. The closer you look, you can see that even the areas that look like they are solid black are really layered type.

I had to put it in the show before I was quite finished, so if the images look a little unfinished, you know they are. I am working to finish it as we speak. When I do, I am going to make a framed copy for mom and the siblings if they want one.

The other images are of other parts of the show. If you have any questions, ask.

Big dog

Mom and Lauralee have made a good point. A big dog is what I have wanted for years. At least 10 years. Particularly the breed known as the Bullmastiff, or Gamekeeper's Night Dog.

Shilo, my ideal Bullmastiff

Now, most people at this point go, "WHOA! That's one of those huge dogs that looks like a small horse, right?" The answer is no. The Bullmastiff is a big dog, but decidedly not the biggest. No taller than a Labrador Retriever, the Bully is a heavily muscled, squared dog with a nice straight topline and smallish feet. Extremely agile and quick, the Bully was bred to protect english estates from poachers. The breed was bred to be quiet so except for the odd dog, barking is usually minimal. Another genetic trait is non-aggressive protection, which is why the breed is such a good family dog. Original color is Brindle, like Charlie here. I love this color.

So, why don't I have one? Good question. Ask Lauralee. No not really, although we made have had one by now, our timing has never really been right. But Ronan and the kids have been begging for a dog, maybe my time is approaching. The other color I love is what they call red-fawn. The black mask is standard to the breed.

Shilo and Mooksa, father and son

I would like to thank Betty Ruffini, Tammy Rhodes and Dot Martell for always putting up my questions and visits, even when I couldn't afford to buy a dog.

I'm it

10 years ago: That was 1998. I worked that year in my first agency. Blain/Olsen White/Gurr. I got my second design piece published in a book which I have on my shelf. Topher turned 1 in September. Like Laur said, we were living in the Governor's mansion in Salt Lake, which is still kind of a trip to think about. My primary mode of transportation was a 1966 Volkswagen Notchback. (so very cool). I got 1 of 2 Christmas bonus checks I have ever received. BOWG was still in a pretty dangerous part of town. I used to eat out almost every day. I met my good friend and colleague, Ryan Anderson, who is one of the only people I keep up with in the Salt Lake design scene. I believe that was the year that we sat with Pres. and Sis Hinkley in the bleachers at the 24th of July parade. (correct me if I'm wrong Lauralee). It was also the year we moved back into the beloved Green St. Apartment. Good memories there. Even the sad memories are good.

Things on my To-Do list today-
Make it to work. Meeting with the Dean of Undergraduate students. Figure out what to do in my Book Design class. Book Design class. (2 hours). Lunch. Graphic Design 2 class. (2 hours). Work on illustration in Adobe Illustrator. Work on website in Dreamweaver. Administrative stuff for work. Make folding paper boxes. Home for dinner. Pack meeting in Jaffrey. Kids to bed. Back to work. Write Emily Simons letter of recommendation. Do email interview for Kyle Correia. Write description for IC101 freshman seminar class. Bed if time.

If I were to become a billionaire today:
I'm sure I would have to be resuscitated. If I make it, I would begin investing immediately. After paying off everyone's student loans and house payments, I would buy a couple of cars. First, a perfectly restored 1963 Lincoln Continental convertible. I would then require some old-fashioned American muscle. Maybe a 1971 Chevelle or a 1970 Olds 442. Because Lauralee made a billion too, I would not have to build myself a hidden design studio behind the bookcase above the 5 car garage, so I would build her a music studio with a big, custom painted grand piano. Then I would make a music studio for the kids and fill it with every instrument I can find so they can experiment to their hearts content. I would buy a house in Jackson Hole so that the families could get together on vacation. I would set up a fund so that anyone in the family could draw on it if they were in a bind. Perpetual Education Fund, Cancer research, man so much good stuff a person could do with that much money. I would set up my own studio and do pro-bono design work for non-profits. I would build a Fifties-style diner attached to the house and stock it with food for my kids to hang out in after school and on the weekends. I don't know. Seems like I am just being selfish.

Bad Habits

1. I'm addicted to movies and I'm not nearly as discriminating as I should be.
2. I drink soda. Lots of it. Mostly Diet Dew. Sometimes a NOS energy drink. (really bad for me)
3. I have a penchant for being alone. Sometimes my family suffers for it.
4. I am hopelessly addicted to letterforms.

Places I've Lived

1. New Mexico-Santa Fe
2. Idaho-Weiser, Boise, Rexburg
3. Oregon-Ontario
4. Utah-Salt Lake City
5. Argentina-Eduardo Castex, Caleta Olivia, General Roca, Cutral Co, Pigue, Necochea
6. New Hampshire-Jaffrey, Rindge

Jobs I've Had

1. Movie concessionista
2. Projectionist (several times)
3. Lumber Mill Worker
4. Banquet Server for Marriott hotels
5. Laundry Guy
6. Baggage Guy for Delta Airlines
7. Graphic Designer-for University of Utah, Blain/Olsen/White/Gurr, FJC&N, freelance
8. Art Director-Creative Source International/Aspen Marketing
9. Etc.

Things People Don't Know About Me

1. I LOVE sushi. Particularly a good spicy tuna roll
2. I make handmade books. Some have turned out pretty cool.
3. If I could, I would wear a variation of the same thing everyday. Levi's Silvertab Baggy jeans and Shortsleeve Dickies workshirts. (untucked)
4. I am dying to learn (or re-learn) an instrument
5. I envy my sibling's successes
6. I chipped my front tooth when I was 16 jumping on the trampoline with a 16# lead shotput and I have had a filling there ever since. (I was with Andy Bell at the time, but he didn't jump).
   

Eleven Days!

Well, I'm not much of a blogger! So, remember my weird fascination with ampersands? Last night I was up late working and I started making patterns with ampersands from all different typefaces. Here is one of my favorites. Typeface is called Dearest.

Here I incorporated it into a design.