I grew up watching old Zorro movies. At least I think I did. I remember watching them several times when I was little, until the film with Antonio Banderas came out in 1998. When I graduated from kindergarten in 1994 (or whenever), they gave us, in addition to paper mortarboards, excellent real-cloth capes with yarn drawstring ties. That cape turned me into Zorro. I often snatched up my little brother's wooden sword, donned the cape, and tied a handkerchief over my face as a mask.
I would then proceed to run rampant all over the house, waving my sword in a "Z" pattern, pretending to ride my horse, and I assume saving the world. You know how it is.
Anyway, I've always had a soft spot in my heart for The Fox, especially growing up in California, where we had to learn constantly about the colonization of Alta California and build models of missions and all that stuff. The 1998 film is, in my opinion, totally excellent. Sometimes the theme song will randomly get stuck in my head, and I wander around singing it under my breath. And OH whenever I hear the zing of the guitar and the clapping and snapping of the castanets it makes me want to bust out into a flamenco dance (which I can't do to save my life. But that doesn't stop me from trying). Don't talk to me about the second Zorro film. It was dumb. Horses with cartoon expressions? Gag.
But I have just heard news that Fox (irony!) will be doing a modern remake of the "Zorro" tale...and I am incredibly intrigued. It's not set to be released until 2014 according to IMDb, but MTV Movies Blog is already talking about it, so I'm allowed to be excited about the potential of Zorro Reborn (it seems this is the working title, but we all know that could change).
Oh, and it's starring Gael Garcia Bernal (from Letters to Juliet and better things I haven't seen). Who I don't mind looking at. Speaking of movies, I'm super stoked for Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter. Since around this time is also the anniversary of the Confederacy seceding from the Union (last year being the 150th anniversary), here are some interesting stereographs (clickable to animate so you can view them as through a stereograph-viewer!) I came across from the Civil War, as well as The Atlantic's 150th Anniversary stuff from last year, which includes a lot of cool articles, stories, poems, and photographs from people you better have heard of and were THERE (Harriet Beacher Stowe, Frederick Douglas, Mark Twain, Louisa May Alcott, and on and on!) Okay, okay, here's the trailer for Lincoln, because it excites me so:
Something New: Tonight was the very first time I really studied for a religion exam. Hopefully it'll actually make a difference (in this, my very last religion class...sigh...why didn't I think to do this before? I might've kept my GPA at a 4.0)
Phone: Here it is, shadowed. This device gives me nothing but trouble and really is just a money suck. Sam wants to use his birthday money to upgrade me to an iPhone. I'm not sure why I'm rebelling.
In reading my friend Reyna's blog post today, I learned about a project called the Venus Project. Reyna brought up a few points that also sparked my thoughts as I looked at it.
Essentially, the Project is this: Anna Utopia Giordano, an Italian model and artist, decided to photoshop a number (10) of paintings of the goddess Venus (herself a historical symbol of beauty and womanly perfection) to bring their bodies to modern-day perceptions of beauty.
Here are a few examples:
Reyna's qualm with the alterations in the paintings (and Reyna, if you read this, correct me if I'm wrong) was that she didn't feel the altered images really portrayed the beauty of the female figure. She said "My favorite thing about the original paintings is the shape of the woman's body. It is real. It is beautiful. And I've always celebrated my own body when it looked a little bit more like the beautiful women in the paintings I adore. And it makes me stop and wonder, why do we place such an emphasis on being thin? Because a woman's body to me is beautiful with all the curves."
I completely agree with this observation. To me, the altered Venuses look unreal, almost creepy. So after reading what Reyna thought, I went and did a little research on what point Giordano was trying to get across when she did the photoshopping.
The statement Giordano made is this: "Art is always in search of the perfect physical form – it has evolved through history, from the classical proportions of ancient Greece, to the prosperous beauty of the Renaissance, to the spindly look of models like Twiggy and the athletic look of our own time."
So it appears from this statement, and others you can find in any of the numerous press releases (the best-written one in English being this one, in my opinion) linked on her website, that the purpose of her doing this project was twofold: first, to create a visual contrast between how perceptions of beauty have changed over time (between when the paintings were originally made and today-- though the paintings themselves are from wildly different time periods), and second, to make people more aware of the ease (and frequency) of the "industry" in editing and photoshopping figures of women in order to make them appear idealistic (by the way if I'm using funny terminology, it's because I'm actually sitting in my art history class at the moment). However, I kind of feel like the latter purpose was sort of invented by the press and subsequently pinned on the artist.
In any case, the answer to Reyna's question seems to be relative. Most people are aware of the power that models such as Twiggy have had on fashion and modeling, creating such a massive influence even after the presence of incredibly well-liked figures such as Marilyn Monroe, who are bustier, curvier, etc. I actually feel that nowadays there is becoming a split in the perceived beauty of women-- one side prefers the stick-skinny "Skeletor's Daughter" types, and others prefer the curvaceous or "natural" beauty of woman.
From the AnyBody Activism Campaign (there are other photographs I like better, but this is the best I could find in a pinch to illustrate my point)
And here's the thing-- forget it all. First of all, while clearly most of the model industry has ingrained in its mind that thinness is beautiful and clarity of skin and hair and a pouty face is beautiful, this does not have to be the opinion of the whole world. And it isn't. Nobody forces you to listen to what people say. Nobody forces you to say "Hey, that photoshopped picture of Jennifer Connelly on the cover of Vogue is WAY prettier than she is when she's bedraggled and angry in A Beautiful Mind." Honestly, I didn't even recognize the airbrushed version of her when I saw it.
Maybe if you don't know me that well you're thinking I have no right to be making these claims and telling you all to knock it off with the belly-aching because I'm so skinny myself.
And here's the thing about that-- I can't help my body type. And while sometimes it appeals to my lazy self that I don't ever have to go to the gym and exercise in order to stay at a constant clothing size or whatever, most of the time I hate it. My metabolism is often too fast for its own good. I've had way too many subsequent health problems because of it (anemia, difficulty putting on weight, digestive issues, occasional heart condition, whatever). My whole life I've been the brunt of skinny jokes (yes, they exist), which at one sad point in high school caused me to think that was the only way I could get attention and I pushed it a little too far with an eating disorder.
I'm not trying to sound like a pity party. I just want all those women (and men!) out there who struggle so hard to either fit into a perceived mold or to fight against the unrealistic expectations of beauty, to just be calm. Everyone has a different body type, a different metabolism, whatever. They're all beautiful, because a body is a story, not an object of beauty. It is the story of everything that makes you you, from all your scars and uneven-ness, to your bony or chunky hips, to your sharply angled shoulders or softly curved parts; it's you, and THAT'S FINE.
I just wish that the younger people who see things through a simplified and popular lens and haven't yet realized that self image depends more on who you are and how you act that what you look like, and that the things that make you unique are far more beautiful than any perceived notions.
Blue: This is kind of a cheating post today. I really wanted to show some pictures from the Tabernacle excavation, and so there's more than one picture here. However, every picture has something blue in it. So we're good!
One of the first non-nail, non-glass artifacts I've found! It's a huge ceramic piece of something that I think looks like a hockey puck. We all know what they were really doing in the basement of the tabernacle...
Part of the west wall, also showing the cellar outline where we're focusing right now. The roundish rock-looking-thing sort of to the left of the blue tape is a plaster pillar base in the cellar.
View from above the wall looking northeast after most of the site was covered with tarps at the end of the day.
The old tabernacle site in relation to the middle-aged tabernacle (which partially burned down last year, as you know) looking south.
(From Sunday) Inside My Closet: Not much to tell. Not all my clothes are hanging because we are in dire need of a laundry day, but we're all out of quarters. And Sam's clothes are encroaching on my space! Boo!
Self Portrait: After a shift at the Tabernacle Excavation. One of these days I'll take pictures of the actual site and some of the cool finds if I remember.
Sun: Today's photo was a little tough to come up with, especially since it was raining and snowing all day. So I took a picture of the weekend forecast. It's going to be a little warmer! Woohoo!
Button: I know it's creepy, but I see this button every day, so I figured it'd be nice to include in this "from my life" project. It looks like a cyclops because of the surgery I had to remove my gallbladder a few years ago.
Dinner: I made lemon pepper tilapia with herbed rice and fresh brocolli (and I'm making strawberry shortcake for dessert...thank you Bountiful Baskets!), but the picture I took didn't look appetizing. Then Brozhy went into shoulder-cat mode, so I got a picture of that. Apparently the cat thinks he's a parrot.
A lot of people have been asking my opinion on The Woman in Black that Adrien and I went to see on Saturday. I figured I'd save myself some time and just spill my thoughts in a blog post.
If someone were to ask if I recommended seeing the movie, I'd say to them "Yes, but wait until it's on DVD." The primary reason for this? In a movie theatre you can't hide under a blanket and cling very easily to your neighbor. Such as it was, Adrien and I were hiding behind our jackets and pressed as closely together as our seats would allow.
However, I'd also say that if you have children, or are a very sensitive person (particularly when it comes to children), don't see the film. Here's a little test to see if you'll be able to handle it:
-Have you seen The Others?
-Have you seen The Orphanage?
-Have you seen The Innocents?
-Did you enjoy them or find them too creepy to bear?
Obviously you have to consider if you can handle not only the scares of the film, but the potentially disturbing images of dead or dying or ghosty children.
Now we move on.
Aviso! Potentially spoiling spoilers ahead! If you haven't seen it, enjoy the trailer below and stop reading (unless you don't mind being spoiled).
There were a few things about the film that I didn't like.
1. How old is Arthur's son? I could swear they said he was 4 years old multiple times in the film, but everyone else (on movie blogs and such) says he's 3. I think he acts more like a 4 year old anyway. Yes, I realize this is a quibbling point.
2. Why didn't the townspeople just TELL Arthur about the curse? Seriously, the lives of several children could have been saved.
3. If you are up against losing your job if you don't complete a task, and a seriously demented ghost starts haunting you at your jobsite, and children are dying because of it, weigh your options and GET A NEW JOB!!!
4. He never even sorted out the legal paperwork anyway. Pff.
5. Why, after being reunited with her son, did the Woman in Black still exact her revenge on the village? I understand that she was crazy, and that she said she'd never forgive her sister, but why didn't she just hunt down her sister's ghost so the two could have it out, and stop killing other peoples' kids? Eh?
And there were things that I liked (obviously; if I'm pulling things like an incongruity in age for my "dislikes" list):
1. The sets, costumes, and lighting made it all very believable. I've decided that Victorian times are the perfect setting for hauntings, because all the furniture, toys, lights, etc are terribly conducive to creepiness. It's true that Gothic horror seems to really be the best horror sub-genre.
2. The cinematography was excellent. Often used was the camera in the point of view of the ghost. It wasn't overplayed either, it was used subtly; you never saw the camera zoom in on a frightened Arthur's face.
3. Arthur acted rationally. If you're locked on an island with the tide in, with ghosts inside and outside the house, you're going to have to do something about it either way. And we learned pretty quickly that ignoring it isn't going to help the situation.
4. The deaths were realistic, and the haunting seemingly also real. There were no seances or any of that drivel. The only issue I had with it was the wife of Sam who for some reason was able to channel the ghosts of the children. Why her?
5. There was just the right amount of occasional humor. Arthur's son's drawing of his father with a perpetually frowny face, the presence of "the twins" at dinner time, etc.
6. The "frights" were not stupid. Aside from the occasional ghost screaming down the hallway and the boy's ghost emerging from the bed, there was nothing that made you stop, raise an eyebrow, and say "Really?" Even the little parts that made you jump felt necessary and not contrived.
I do, however, have some questions that I'd like input on. First of all, how did Arthur know how to reunite the ghost with his mother? I can understand the birthday cards, but why was it necessary to wind up all the creepy toys in the nursery? Similarly, why did the boy come out of the bed in another room? I understand that Arthur probably let in the boy's ghost by opening the door when he came a-knocking, but why didn't that allow the two ghosts to find each other?
Another question I have is what was the deal with Arthur and his son being killed? Part of me wants to say that it was the WIB's sick form of saying 'thanks' to Arthur for reuniting her with her son (you know, he reunited her so she figured she'd reunite his little family). But that part of me just really wants this film to be one of the best scary movies I've seen, and if the WIB had just decided to keep killing kids for no reason besides "NEVER FORGIVE!" seems silly. I mean really, that's why I hated The Ring. But if she was just saying thank you, what relevance did Sam seeing all the ghosts of the dead children have? Was it all their little spirits finally being released from the clutches of the WIB? Did they appear to Sam because he was the father of one of the dead?
Oh, and for the record, having seen My Boy Jack and plenty of interviews with Daniel Radcliffe (plus the hilarious SNL episode a few weeks ago), I had no problem whatsoever removing the idea of Harry Potter from my mind. And I also have to say that Daniel Radcliffe has done an excellent job in being able to perform roles very different from the boy wizard. I don't know why people have issues with him having facial hair, or being married, or being the father of a young boy. The man's almost 23, he's not 15 anymore.
I'm very curious to hear what you thought, if you've seen the film.
A Stranger: Someone getting their frozen yogurt, behind the A. Nony Mouse I drew on the glass at Spoon it Up when I was there with Adrien tonight after seeing "Woman in Black."
This was my original "stranger" picture, which is clearly of three odd people with a mattress in a shopping cart, one of whom is lying on the underneath part of the shopping cart in a seal pose. We drove by in order to take a picture of them. As you can see, it turned out really well.
My whole life I've been rather a proponent for mild feminism. I blame it on my mom, who despite raising 4 crazy children, also got her Master's degree, served a mission, didn't get married until she was 29, speaks a million languages, is way smarter than most people I've met, and somehow managed to work on top of everything else while we were growing up.
Being a young woman at BYU has exposed me to a lot of the ridiculous pressures and stigmas held around here. For example: as soon as you get to university, start looking for a potential spouse, because Man, you're already an old maid. If you're not married by age 21 (ugh, who are you?) serve a mission, otherwise people might start to question what you really want in life. Once you finally do get married, you'd better get on the baby boat right away, because we all know you're committing some kind of sin by putting it off in favor of a degree or anything else.
Okay, so those are harsh generalizations, but really, those are the kinds of things this community makes you feel sometimes. Now, I've never really been one to want to follow the crowd (surprised? Hopefully not). Both my older sisters shuffled off to Utah right out of High School and got married at age 19. I have nothing against either of them (far from it, I admire their ability to do what they did), or their choices (which I know were very personal and well-considered), but when your younger brother starts telling you to get a move on in the whole marriage thing, and you are the only single granddaughter older than 12 at family reunions, you start to feel the pressure. I almost got married at 19. And oh, oh, oh I am so glad that didn't work out. I was a young thing at Cal State Long Beach, he didn't know what he wanted in life, and 3 years of being together was enough (a bad sign, guys). So I moved to Utah when I was almost 20, and didn't really think about marriage for a good long while after that.
I remember my 21st birthday party, which was a small party with only me and my roommates (and thankfully not the non-boyfriend-boyfriend of the time). Two of them had just gotten back from missions, and they were like "Woohoo! You're 21 now, what can you do now?" And I said, half jokingly (because I want to learn to cook with it, Helloooo) "I can buy alcohol?"
"And...?"
"And...buy alcohol?"
"And go on a mission!" Duh.
But I didn't. And honestly, while a part of me was intrigued by the concept of giving up a year and a half of my life in service to others in a totally random location on the planet, I didn't really want to. And there was some guilt driven into me because I'd made that decision.
Eventually, I got married. Yes, I realize I'm still incredibly young, but I'm almost 23, which to me beats the record of young people getting married around here. And now that I am, there's this question people ask, with their eyebrows wiggling like they have some kind of clever idea. That question is "when are you going to have kids? Eh? Eh?" And really, I just got married a month ago, give us a chance to adjust at least!
We got a cat instead. People don't think that's as funny as I do for some reason.
I've always told myself that I'd think about having kids when I was good and ready, which honestly, I've never thought would be soon. Aside from the baby fever everyone got in high school when we had about 15 pregnant girls in our year (oh don't worry, some of them were on their second or third kid), I've never really been super eager about raising kids right away. I've done plenty of babysitting and nannying and interacting with kids, and I have seen the good and the ugly.
A few weeks ago in my religion class (yes, I know I'm about to graduate, shush) it got a little ridiculous. My professor drove home the point very solidly to everyone in the class (who are mostly all Freshman) that you must have children right away or you are literally committing a sin. He threw quotes around from various church leaders, told stories about people regretting waiting because they found out they were infertile, etc. Essentially, the theme of the day was have kids now or you'll be punished. As you might imagine, I left class more than a little aggravated.
And then (ah yes, the more personal aspects I've been trying to include in my blogging) I thought I was pregnant. Like a month after being married. No fair! And yet, those four days of imagining it, I felt so internally happy and excited. After I saw the negative pregnancy test, the first thing I said was "Phew!" but inside I felt a little melancholy. I've always been interested in genetics and inheritance, topics that (don't judge me) get me pretty excited about having kids. When a random video popped up on Youtube about the "miracle of life" so to speak, I watched it. And I honestly got a little choked up when the sperm's genetic material blended with that of the egg's. Yes yes, I realize I'm a sap and more than a little weird. Bear with me.
The point of all this is that now I'm conflicted. I want to go to Graduate School, I want to work and travel and do amazing things (oh that's right, I got married-- that sort of put the kabosh on most of those plans...). But now that I'm healthier because my pancreas problems are nearly sorted out, I'm feeling a little yearning in my heart, and a vague feeling of currently being a little unfulfilled. Creating life really is a miracle. I didn't give birth to the cat (thank goodness), so his role as a child isn't really filled. When it happens, even if it's a lot sooner than I ever thought I'd get around to it, I'll be excited to be a mother, especially with Sam as a father (oh give me a break, I love him).
I saw this on one of the blogs I follow (of a random girl in Australia whose life I love reading about...no it's not creepy at all, she commented on here once ages ago, so that justifies me!) a few days ago. I've been doing it, but true to form, I've forgotten to post. Here is the list, and my first photo: Day one: My View Today: my desk at work, complete with bags of bones from Petra that I'm inventorying, lots of museum books, and a few dozen groundstones from the Kanab excavations in the background.
PS: I don't have an iPhone, and therefore no Instagram, so these pictures aren't going to be really artsy or whatever unless I figure something else out that still jives with my laziness.
