There’s a lot of art out there; plays, concerts, gallery showings, cinemas, and even the natural beauty of the Arb.  But as large as the variety of what to see it, there really is only one way to view it; with a friend.  Or preferably more than one so you have help beating up the one person who fails to see the attractiveness of the main character.

While viewing art solo is something I have done on occasion, it just isn’t the same. I want to share the experience of a moving final act or the excitement of an action movie.  Plus having an extra set of eyes can help determine just what that particular painting is supposed to be.  (I’m guessing a pink elephant. What? It’s totally a vase of flowers. On it’s side.)  Art just seems a whole lot more meaningful if the wonder of it is shared, if the adventure of finding that gallery is a joint venture.

Who doesn’t like to share?  I’m always doing so with my own art. I admit I’m fishing for praise and self-worth half the time, but the other half is just so happy at creating something I  have to share!  Who hear hasn’t shared poetry that they’ve written, for that high school English class or other reason, with others?  It enables more people to access the work. And as a self proclaimed budding artist I can’t think of anything more rewarding than knowing someone likes my work enough to share it.

So go out there, part take in something artsy this Thanksgiving weekend and drag someone with you.  It could be your parent, younger sibling, or that friend from high school that you’ve lost touch with but ran into at the grocery store on a last minute panicked ‘My mom needs stuffing!’ run.  Make some memories, share something beautiful, and live a full life.

Your only occasional anti-social blogger,

Jenny

On November 17 at around 4AM, I witnessed a meteor shower for the first time. Every November, the Leonid Meteor Shower occurs, scattering hundreds of stars among the skies for eager, waiting eyes to see. At 3:30AM, my friends and I bundled ourselves up with layers of clothes to combat the cold and trekked over to the Arb to lie down on the grassy fields and stare up at the skies, waiting in anticipation for the streaks of fire that would burn across the ashen sky.

As the ten of us sprawled on the grass and listened to music streaming from a friend’s iPod Touch, I lay in silence, looking up at the sky sprinkled with constellations that I typically can never see nor notice, and that, I am sure, most people can never see nor notice. It’s funny that stars are constantly surrounding us and they are consistently present in our lives, without fail, due to the sciences of nature and the solar system, yet a lot of us hardly realize or recognize these brightly shining spots in our lives.

Art is not always considered to be things of beauty, especially with the realization that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but after seeing these blazing balls of flame tearing across the night sky, it made me wonder if the one thing that is always beautiful would be nature. People can vary on their views of physical beauty, of “artistic beauty”, but I feel that it is cultural-wide, this notion of nature as beauty. Maybe the one thing that is always beautiful in our eyes is that which we can never escape. Nature always encompasses us, our small human selves, in this great expanse of the world, and whenever we are approached by the awesomeness of the natural, we encounter the sublime and we tremble and we are affected by something so intangible and inexpressible, but something we recognize to be beautiful.

Indeed, that early, dark morning, with the entire, never-ending skyline looming above us as we lay, each linked to the other in testament to our friendship and the closeness of our emotional ties with each other, as we ‘oohed and ahhed’ over the various constellations and the fast-moving snippets of meteors entering our atmosphere, I was yet again struck by the beauty of it all. The beauty of the stars, the sky, the trees, the grass, but perhaps most importantly, I was struck by the beauty of the mere moment. This precious hour when people who love each other and enjoy each other’s companies gather together to partake in a moment that is once-in-a-lifetime and so breathtakingly beautiful. Maybe it will happen again next year, maybe not. But this year, it happened, and painted such an amazing picture in my memory, one that I am sure to never forget.

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Gabby Park is a triple concentrator in Communication Studies, French, and History of Art and enjoys lying on the grass to look up at the stars.

Books transformed into movies are a frequent occurrence in our modern society.  The most obvious book to movie metamorphous is the Harry Potter saga.   Others who follow close behind are the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, The Lord of the Rings, and most recently Where the Wild Things Are.  Coming soon to theaters on November 20^th is the second of the Twilight series, New Moon.

Hollywood’s need to give face to some of the greatest imaginary characters is both exhilarating and disgusting.

The quotidian nature of Hollywood’s obsession with bringing fantastical characters to life annoys many, who then refuse to see the film.  These are the people who publicize their nauseating feeling with everyone with whom they come in contact.  Often, they find other haters, who then bond over their similar feelings, forming groups of anti-fans who ultimately repel from society…well in the most extreme cases.

When these people lurk by local movie theaters protesting the restrictive nature of such book turned movie productions on their imaginative minds, they often come into contact with the other, represented here as book made movie fanatics.

Thus, erupts a collision of minds.

Those who wait eagerly in line, bouncing with excitement, rejoice Hollywood’s imitation of books.  Fueled by their pure wonder of what awaits them, this genre of people are dedicated to see whether their imaginative images are correct or perhaps will get insight into a different perspective.

What is devastating is being one of those hyped up people waiting patiently but urgently in line to see the movie of the year, only to walk out 95 minutes later somber and pissed off at the incompetent producer who failed to capture the essence of the novel.  Asking yourself, did they even read the book before creating the film?

Ah, yes I have been there. It occurred on a fatal night where I sat down with my roommates and watched Twilight after being boarder line obsessed with the books.  I laughed through the entire movie due to its absurd acting and silly lines.  As I recall, I didn’t even end up finishing the movie I thought it so obtuse.

So the quarrel I presently find myself debating is the decision between falling in line with group number one, where I outwardly hate the coming of New Moon, or finding myself aligning with group two waiting in line, with the suspense building.  It’s an important decision, $10 is at stake!

Have a good weekend!

Sara Majors in Art History and enjoys long walks.

I hate studying. I realize that this is a completely obvious statement, but it is true. I truly hate reading textbooks and writing analytical essays about the deeper meanings found in the “classics.” Honestly, I would much rather run a marathon than sit down and decipher my orgo textbook (anyone who knows me knows the severity of this statement… let’s just say I run like Forest Gump with leg braces).  But alas, the worth of a 50,000 dollar education would never be realized if I spent all day watching the Tyra show (yep- I’m THAT classy). So we all struggle. We spend hours in the UGLi trying to cram a semester worth of information into our brains before finals. We sit in the hallowed halls of the Law Library trying to churn out the greatest essay ever written. We procrastinate. (To be fair though would you rather go out on a Thursday or stay in memorizing verb tenses… yeah that’s what I thought). I guess what gets me about studying is the silence. The silence makes me fall asleep and I tend to get distracted and almost anxious by the lack of noise (I went to a high school without any walls… Quiet rooms freak me out!). Maybe, it’s just me, but I need music to help me focus .  However, not any type of music will work. Each task requires its own soundtrack, its own musical vibe. Thus, for this post I have decided to focus on the ever important task of reading (specifically science textbooks since I am premed!). The key to listening to music while reading is to not have songs on your playlist that will cause any sort of intense reaction. This includes songs like Single Ladies by Beyonce, Empire State of Mind by Jay-Z, or my personal favorite, September by Earth, Wind, and Fire. Instead of studying, songs like these will create a very strong urge to get up on top of a desk and start shaking “ya grove thing” (that’s right, I said it). What you really need is quite background music that provides a foundation upon which you can carry out your academic tasks. The music should enhance your studying, not detract from it. So readers, as an early turkey day/black Friday gift I have compiled a list of songs that have recently helped me get through the woes of studying. Here they are:

~ So Natural by Toby Lightman
~ Rowing Song by Patty Griffin
~ Stoppin the Love by KT Tunstall
~ Summer by India Arie
~ Million Faces by Paolo Nutini
~ Use Somebody (Cover) by Pixie Lott
~ Read My Mind (Like Rebel Diamonds Remix) by The Killers
~ Turn and Turn Again by All Thieves
~ Ruins by Jones is George
~ Tell Him by Lauryn Hill
~ When The World Ends by The Bittersweets
~ Please Don’t Stop the Rain by James Morrison
~ Make You Feel My Love by Adele

Take a moment to check this stuff out and let me know what you think. Hopefully these will help make studying a little more painless Have a great week everyone!

I admit it, I’ve found TV love.

Every time I hush my roomies up to hear the music and at times sing along they just roll their eyes and give those little knowing smiles that say “Okay Jenny, but just cuz we love you so much.”

I guess it would be understandable if I’m halting their conversions to hear the theme song for a good show, but it’s actually something that is…well not as accepted as a TV love.

I have a thing for car commercials.  To get more specific, Lincoln car commercials.  With the Cadillac as second place.  I am so far gone I have not only downloaded the songs used in these 30 second shorts, but seeing as it is only one band who does the music for Lincoln I snagged all the songs done by them that I could.

I really am hopeless.

But there really is something beautiful and wondrous about those Lincoln commercials. I blame it on the fact that the cars are linked with something I have a fascination with, space.  The cars are all displayed as space ships; a silver vehicle against a backdrop of stars and song lyrics talking about lift over.  And after that incredible “Sexy Trek” movie that came out this summer who wouldn’t want to not only ride in, but control a space ship?

I guess the real artistic beauty here is the success of the ads for making us love them, if not the product (I come from a Ford family). I can’t think of anyone who cannot think of an ad they enjoy, whether it be the Mac ads or a billboard for McDonald’s reading “Our curfew is later than yours”.  And fess up, I know you only watch the Super Bowl for the commercials.

But very rarely are ads seen as an art form.  Granted, they certainly are not hung up in art galleries but you can find them in museums.  They are snapshots into the past cultures of America, from Rosie the Riveter to 80’s hair products.  Most ad designers actually have a degree from some type of art program, most likely Graphic Design.  Lots of work gets put in them and just like paintings or film they tell a story and make you feel a certain way, even if it is just that you now really want a Coke.

So while they don’t capture the beauty of nature or the essence of being human, ads do have a grasp on capitalism and the consumer culture that is a very big part of our lives.  And isn’t art supposed to be something we can relate to for it to have meaning?

Your desperately wanting a star ship blogger,

Jenny

“I swear, if you take one more picture, I’m going to shove that camera up your ass.”

Umm…excuse me? Sitting in the sixth row of the symphony concert, my friend looked back in astonishment as a middle-aged woman leaned forward in her seat to curse her out as she held up her camera to take another photograph of the soloist, our close friend. My friend merely stared at her, turned forward and took another picture, completely ignoring her rude remark. Then throughout the remainder of the piece, she proceeded to take more pictures, not merely to make a point, but to support our friend, whose performance was on a near professional level and who had worked so hard for many months to come to this point and desired that we document this momentous occasion in her musical career.

Apart from the evident fact that the woman’s incredibly déclassé comment was over the line, it als brings up an interesting point about our current society and this impulse for documentation. Who does this desire to constantly capture the moments of our lives serve? It seems like the obvious answer is ourselves. As humans, we always have this desire to preserve our memories, to continually think back and clearly visualize the good times past, and of course the easiest way to carry this out is to take a photograph.

While this endeavor is often a personal one, it is also true that occasionally, it can be irritating to others. This incident at the concert notwithstanding (especially since it was so uncalled for), another instance comes to mind where incessant photographing became more irritating than endearing. At a School of Public Health event featuring the fashion designer, Kenneth Cole, one woman sitting in front of me tried several times to capture a perfect, non-blurry photo of the designer using flash. Seeing the white glare on his face for about the next 5 to 10 minutes quickly became incredibly annoying and it peeved me that the woman seemed more intent on taking her pictures of this famous figure than actually listening to what he had to say about corporate social responsibility.

To a certain extent, there is nothing wrong at all with wanting to capture the important moments in our lives, and I would certainly encourage the preservation of our good times. But it is very possible that in our great desire to constantly document the events that pass in our lives, we end up becoming removed from the event itself, that in being the one who takes the pictures, we become someone who isn’t completely engaged in the moment and able to enjoy it. We become so focused on just taking pictures that we sometimes miss the emotions and the subtleties taking place within the moment.

I confess that the lady actually yelled at me, not my friend. And I won’t deny that I am oftentimes that girl who loves to take pictures of events. I just really like to see the reactions and expressions on people’s faces as they are confronted with the joys, sorrows, surprises, happiness in their lives; to show them and others the instant responses that overwhelm them and that they would not otherwise be able to see. Yet, I also do realize when to stop and merely drink in the moment with my eyes and not just my camera. I know when to disengage my eye from the viewfinder and put my heart into the minutes passing in the blink of an eye, rather than the blink of the shutter. That evening of the concert, I honestly do feel that the woman’s remark was unwarranted and extremely impolite, however, I am willing to consider her point of view, where perhaps she is the type who doesn’t like pictures to be taken at classical concerts. And having been that woman where I have been annoyed by picture-takers, I can understand where she is coming from. But I do wish that she had been nicer. And I do wish that more people would realize that as much as documenting a moment is important and incredibly meaningful to each individual, so is the enjoyment of a single moment that ends as soon as it begins. And vice versa.

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Gabby Park occasionally likes to listen to classical music and most often loves to take photograph the events taking place in her life.