A true man of honor.

I have the incredible responsibility of typing my grandfather's journals this summer. He kept a series of journals, 17 in total, starting in June of 1979. He was in the midst of building the beautiful log cabin on Swan Lake that he and my grandmother would spend the next 28 years living and loving in. The home came to be more than just a place for them to retire: it was the trademark of every grandchild's summer memories. Each summer, my parents would load up their 1979 Datsun pickup with all 6 children and make the 8 hour trek to Northern Montana. My siblings have stories beyond compare of times at the lake, going tubing down the river, games played with the cousins, and so much more. I came on the tail end of things - the 7th child, 10 years after the "youngest" before me had been born. And though I don't share all of their memories, I still remember losing quarters to my grandmother to "buy" back the stuff I didn't put away. I still remember the smell of Saturday morning waffles, the way my grandfather sat at the head of the table making the waffles. I remember sitting on the window seat, watching the birds feed early in the morning. The sound of my grandfather's laugh. Playing horseshoes and always losing. (Gramps was the champ). There were many memories I didn't experience. I was too young to play with the older cousins, needed to stay inside more often, had to be "looked after" all the time. But the lake was still my favorite memory, and remains my most beloved place in the world.Typing up these journals has been an amazing experience. It's like reading a book, but you know the characters, and you've been to the setting. 

Later in his life, my grandfather was diagnosed with Alzheimer's. He passed away 5 years ago today - July 4, 2007. It seems appropriate. He loved his country: he fought in World War II, being honored with a Purple Heart for being shot in the head. He spent the rest of his days serving his fellow men in various ways. He was the most considerate, loving, genuine man I've ever known. He took care of his neighbor's properties when they were gone, looked after them, was heavily involved in the betterment of his community, and had a genuine concern for government and righteousness. He was an educator, a principal before he retired, and had an incredible mind.


We love you and miss you, Grandpa. Thinking of you today and always. 

These are my cousins - they're awesome. This song is dedicated to my grandpa. 

Some ponderings since being home...

Idaho Falls is a relatively small town. I say relatively, because we have a fairly decent population size, yet in relation to any large metropolitan area, we are by comparison, quite small.  These past two weeks have been a constant reminder of how small of a town it truly is - everyone seems to know everyone. It's always at the most inconvenient times that I run into someone I know. You'd think that I would at least be wearing makeup during this chance meetings. Nope. The other night my nephew graduated from high school. It was a very interesting moment. Revisiting my high school was a crazy reminder of my past and how many things I didn't want to remember, and a strange and sweet reminder of the beautiful memories that I did want to remember. Sitting in the gym in which I graduated, I could only hear the echoes of my thoughts: "It all has come full circle".

The phrase "come full circle" was thought to have been coined somewhere around 1878, However, Shakespeare's use of the phrase in his famous tragedy, King Lear, "The wheel has come full circle" was the first written introduction of this concept in the 1600s. A concept that is most interesting, because it depicts that the wheel had completed its cycle, and yet only ended up where it began. It is defined by Merriam-Webster as "a series of developments that lead back to the original source, position, or situation or to a complete reversal of the original position". I remember my first month of school, during my vocal production class I came in contact with this lovely phrase. We were in the classroom in which I auditioned for NYU. My professor kind of chuckled and said, "Ah yes. This room. Everything comes full circle, doesn't it?" And being at Skyline, revisiting those "hallowed" halls, being overwhelmed with a sickening sense of nostalgia, the phrase "come full circle" couldn't have been more pertinent.

But this realization was very encouraging because I was able to reflect on an incredible year. I don't feel like I've returned to the original position. Rather, I feel as though I'm tracing a spiral. I'm at a new point, right across from last year. You can see the other side, but you're not there, you're just slightly removed, infinitely cycling around. And it's unbelievable when I reflect on where I've been, what I've seen, and how much I've learned. A very dear friend once gave me an Idaho postcard that said, "Never forget where you came from". I couldn't if I tried, and I'm so excited to see what else is in store!


Upon coming home, I have realized several things about myself.

I need to stop starting new books. I think I'm on book #4 now, and I'm only halfway through Game of Thrones. I just don't know how else to make it through my huge summer reading list.

Idaho is dry. Very dry. After my 193rd glass of water yesterday and my 70th chapstick application, I just about threw in the towel.

I love not paying for laundry, toilet paper, food, and cleaning supplies.

Eggs make me sick. No wonder I don't eat them. Blech.

I've missed Mauri Green sooooo much.

I need to go to Europe.

I hate driving.

In addition, I've realized...

There is not enough time in the day. There never is.

Pinterest is addicting, and completely destroys your planned-for-years wedding ideas that you previously thought were so great. Now I have to plan everything all over again.


All my dearest love,

Em ♥

Chasing rainbows.

I'm home! Well... not right now. I mean, I'm actually sitting in the middle of a coffee shop. There's nothing like the atmosphere of a coffee shop for artistic inspiration. Forgive me if this post ends up being short and sweet, I'm sure I'll have much more to say in a week's time! It is so good to be back in the land of potatoes, where laundry is free, toilet paper is soft, and coffee is cheap! :) I do miss New York (I've already started a countdown), but I look forward to the precious moments ahead of me this summer.

I'm writing a book! It's quite a daunting prospect, but it's a challenge I'm welcoming with open arms. If it fails, then I'm all the better for it. And it's a perfect summer project. Along with reading the Game of Thrones series. I'm drowning in words.

I arrived home last night to a joyous smothering of little people hugs and kisses. The nieces and nephew were waiting on the porch steps when we pulled into the driveway, and it couldn't have been more precious. :) I spent the evening settling in and spending time with the family. And it seemed like Idaho was happy to have me home, too, for it greeted me with this! A beautiful, yet brief, lightning storm and rainbow.

Thank you all for reading my blog! I want to encourage you to follow me, and I want to remind you that I have an awesome "follow by email" option. It sends you my posts via e-mail! That way, if you're not on Facebook, or you don't always see my link, you can get an awesome e-mail each time I post. It won't spam you or send you anything other than my post. I'm subscribed to a couple blogs I follow by e-mail, and it's a really handy feature. I'm so happy to be home, and will continue to blog through the summer, so stay tuned!

I came home to you! ♥

All my love,

-Em

Tourist week! ... kind of.

After a long internal battle of whether to write a summary of my year thus far, what I've learned my first year of college, or to just post about my week, I came to no conclusion. So... this post will probably be a rambling tangent complete with pictures, little tidbits of my beloved NYC, inspiring quotes, summaries, and opinions. But it is time to blog again, so here I go. 

Our initial plan for the week (or rather, 3 days) after finals was to be tourists! We were going to call it tourist week and take a lot of pictures. We also were going to look lost, ask for directions, stop in the middle of the sidewalk and look up, and go to Shake Shack, take cheesy Times Square photos and the like. Well, we kind of became ridiculously busy practicing for Grad Alley, so we just spent the last few days in the city enjoying the time we had free.

 After our last final, Lauren and I headed down to SoHo to get some tasty Georgetown Cupcakes. (free, I might add) and took a walk around, window shopping and keeping it classy as always. If you haven't had a Georgetown cupcake, you have not lived.

I mean, really. Just look at these babies. 

I had the Hummingbird cupcake. Hummingbirds remind me of both my grandmother, and my mother. So it was an appropriate cupcake for Mother's Day weekend. They are truly the most incredible women in my life. I will always look up to their strength, independence, and determination, and to their feisty spirits and loving arms. When I was young, we used to spend a week or so every summer at my grandparent's lake. In their dining room was a window seat just behind the kitchen table, and it looked out to the deck where the bird feeders were. I remember sitting each morning at breakfast, waiting to see the hummingbirds come to the feeders. Hummingbirds were my favorite because they were so beautiful. I loved how fast their wings moved.They were always moving, never slowing down, never stopping for anyone or anything. I mean, they even ate flapping their wings a mile a minute.
I suppose they reminded me of my grandmother's spirit, the same spirit that my mother held in her - always moving, stubborn and feisty. Regardless, they have always held a large amount of appeal to me. On days like today, gloomy and overcast, I find myself yearning for the lake - warm and sunny weather, dipping my toes in the water.

I see this building every day on my walk to work. I love it, and so I finally decided to take a picture of it. It's one of my favorite buildings in New York. 

David and I spent dinner together last night, as our last "hurrah" in New York together. He has a full three weeks of school left. Lucky fella. My ride home from the Upper West Side last night was not exactly adventurous. Although it took me 3 trains to get there, I settled on only one transfer on the way home. Stupid B trains. They're always out of service. But... I couldn't help myself at Times Square. Pictures just had to happen.

Which brings me to the rest of my weekend. Filled with Grad Alley pactice, storage pickup, throwing so many things away and packing for Idaho... it managed to be a crazy weekend. Andrew and Bonnie are in the city this week, so I had the pleasure of meeting up with them on Saturday night, which was incredible. We met at Dolce Vizio, a Tiramisu shop and then browsed the shops of SoHo. While I was waiting to meet them, I went into the World's Smallest Store. And I met this guy! He said that there was only one thing in the shop that would interest me, and he found it. It was a necklace made out of a vintage typewriter key. He asked me why I was dressed all vintage-like. (I was wearing waist high polka dotted pants and a lacy blouse and pearl earrings.) But then he said, "No wait. I know.... You're an actress, aren't you? You're a performer?" And I laughed and said yes. Although that doesn't really explain why I like vintage clothes... 

We had dinner reservations at Hangawi, the most incredible vegetarian Korean restaurant. Afterward, we went to see Sleep No More (for my second time... and since I've already blogged about it, I won't give you another summary). Needless to say, I thought it was great, but I did find that I enjoyed it much more the first time. 

Sleep No More

Tonight Lauren, Juliet and I headed to Chinatown to get some dumplings for dinner. Mmm. And then we headed to Little Italy to finish off the night with a Cannoli! After our tourist-y dinner, I went to see the Avengers with Steph. Very entertaining. :) And since it's ridiculously late and I have to wake up in 5 hours... I leave you with this. My final New York picture, to celebrate my successful first year living in the Empire State...  

I'm coming home in one day and three hours. Idaho, I'll see you soon. ♥

-Em

And since I promised you a quote...

"Many people think that they are thinking when they are merely rearranging their prejudices."

-William James

The year of beginnings.

It's almost the end of my freshman year of college... the year of "beginnings" so to speak. It's an overwhelming thought. I'm excited because of the tremendous growth that I've experienced this year, and I'm excited at the prospect of many years to come. And yet, it's bittersweet, because the year of beginnings is coming to an end, and I now have to leave this place with which I've grown so comfortable. I was fortunate enough to engage in a very intriguing conversation this week, one that I feel is in desperate need of telling.

I was browsing the Container Store one afternoon with my friend Lauren. It was warm, muggy and overcast - the type of weather that makes you uncomfortable and cranky. We were searching for, well, containers. And where else to go but the Container Store? After finding a couple totes that we found were most suitable for our summer storage needs, we both realized that neither one of us had the least bit desire to trudge back to our dorms with the extra burden of 66 gallons of space and plastic. So, we hailed a cab. Or rather, two cabs.

After I hopped in the taxi, the driver struck up a conversation with me, which I normally find odd and sometimes annoying. I hate making small talk, especially when I can't understand what someone else is trying to say. But this man, dressed in boots, jeans, a denim jacket and a cowboy hat, was a conversation guru. He began by stating that containers were growing increasingly expensive, which to my disappointment, is completely true. (This is one of those moments when I miss things known as Wal-Mart and Idaho Falls, where you can buy a large tupperware tote for under $10.) He asked me how long I had been living in the city and what I was doing here, which inadvertently led to his inquiry about my major. After telling him that I was studying opera, he brought up the topic that has been plaguing my mind all week. My roommate Betty posted the link to a very incredible article on my Facebook wall regarding the under appreciation and lack of funding for not only the arts, but for opera in particular in America.

I highly recommend reading it. It's a short read, super simple, and very thought-provoking.
http://jenniferrivera.squarespace.com/blog/2012/4/6/arts-in-america.html

This woman, Jennifer Rivera, wrote this blog in response to a prompt that was projected by Spring for Music as part of their annual blogger challenge. Their prompt was, "Many countries have ministries of culture. Does America need a secretary of culture or a secretary of the arts? Why or why not?"

Rivera posits that as artists, we have a social responsibility to uphold, protect and advance the arts. While studying at Juilliard, she was involved in an "Arts in Education" class in which she taught two classes a week for under privileged first and second graders in the New York public school system. The experience that she gained was life-changing and rewarding - not only for her, but for the students. By the end of the semester, she said that "their collective excitement was absolutely unabashed" - and what an incredible image! First and second graders excited - truly excited - about opera.

And so, you can imagine my surprise at this Bulgarian taxi driver's deep appreciation for opera. His sister was a singer, he said, yet she never studied professionally. It was incredible - this conversation was so timely and coincidental. And as he continued to express his utter disdain for popular culture, I brought in the idea of educating our youth in the classical arts - both visually and musically. It has to start young, I posited, as echoes of Rivera's article reverberated in my head, and we have to take action. Because art appreciation can only lead to increased interest, which consequentially will provide more funding. And more funding will inadvertently turn into more opportunities for performers that have spent their lives working twice as hard for under-appreciated, mundane gigs with little pay. Because the life of a performer, unfortunately, is only defined in terms of "fame" and "success". But I have to agree with Rivera, whose vision for opera is echoed in the hearts of opera singers and advocates around the world. The extent of our career does not stop at the stage door - we are forever artistic ambassadors - our own "ministers of culture".

James Baldwin once said, "The world changes according to how people see it, and if you alter, even by a millimeter, the way people look at reality, then you can change it." And when we take the malleable perceptions of children and expose them to the beautiful production of an art that has become so foreign and estranged to a culture that recognizes auto-tuning and synthesizers as musical talent, we can and do change reality. Rivera confidently believes that the first and second graders she worked with will "have a different association with opera than most of their peers, who simply have never been exposed to anything like it". American culture has long associated classical music to a very specific target audience. In the words of Alex Ross, "The classical audience is assumed to be a moribund crowd of the old, the white, the rich and the bored" (Listen to This). But when I picture Rivera's second graders, begging to hear her play the opera L'Enfant et les Sortileges to sing along to, I feel as though I'm drowning in potential.  

The solution to this problem is so accessible, it leaves me thirsty for change.

It's not just up to opera singers, classical musicians or rich old patrons. If my Bulgarian semi-cowboy taxi driver is talking about it, you can be too. So please, I ask you, share your thoughts with me. Share my thoughts with others if you concur. Help me to be an artistic ambassador - because the potential for change is at our fingertips!

Altering millimeters,

-Emily