I was reminded recently that I'm totally in the right profession. Someone mentioned a Heinz ketchup campaign from years ago in which they held a contest for taglines and bottle-cover designs. I entered. I think I was 12.
That story reminded me that one of my favorite things I ever did with my brother Jon was make an tv spot for a music company called "Color."
I still dream about being a widely published author.
There are not many things I hate more than "WTF" and "OMG." I'm bugged that I even have to write them to share how much I hate them. I almost kept this loathing to myself.
I work in an office of adults (as I suppose most people do). I think I might be the youngest employee in the building (or close). So, I was confused to see the bathroom floor look like this:
Somehow the picture is more tame than it was in real life.
I was intrigued by
some reading I was doing a while ago that people CANNOT act UNLESS they are influenced by good and evil. This is something I have discussed at some length with several people. This caused more contemplation.
I cried the other day during/at a movie that I don't particularly like. But for some reason it really moved me this time.
I'm grateful for pioneers: people who risk everything to progress a cause -- religion, science, thought, art. I'm grateful for inspiring examples. People with courage. People who do what they know to be right. People who care about what constitutes "right." And work at it, even when it's not easy.
I don't like EFY. But, recently, I've considered that maybe I've musjudged it. I think, for people outside of Utah especially, it might actually be valuable.
I'm grateful for people that make morality personal. Who follow a strong code of ethics because the self they've created demands it.
Today, I went to a class that used Radiohead for the soundtrack on their education videos. I found that very distracting. I like Radiohead too much to pay full attention to the dialogue and action. It was simultaneously endearing and upsetting (that they would use Radiohead and that they would use Radiohead for THAT).
I recently heard someone talk about how the main theme in Beethoven's 5th (the entirety of which they called a movement -- first clue I should have stopped listening) -- da da da dun -- is congruent with the Morse Code letter for "V." Clearly, she (falsely) elucidated, this was for "victory," since this was the first piece Beethoven wrote after going deaf. I found this silly, and a very little offensive -- because I don't often think you should promulgate opinion and heresy as fact. (But that's just me.) Not only did Morse Code not exist while Beethoven was alive, but I don't think he'd write one of the greatest pieces of music EVER, based around a loosely connected symbol, as a tribute to himself for triumphing over deafness. (That second point is my own, equally ridiculous, opinion.)
Mostly I've been thinking about choices, though. Partly because of the aforementioned reading and discussions, and partly because of some choices I have recently made. And choices that others have made that have given me pause. I wonder if a tiger can change its stripes. I wonder how often people can truly be so committed to something (or more specifically giving something up) that they are willing to fight for it their entire lives (ie: never smoking again, not lusting after people, never drinking again). Even more, I wonder how often people do that without looking back -- with no regrets.
One of my favorite thoughts (and quotes) talks about reaching out to everyone, including, perhaps especially, to those hands that aren't reaching out anymore; that the world is more hungry for love than anything else. I yearn to be able to give that kind of love to the world and the people near to me. But... is there ever a time where you just say, "No. I can't do that. I need to take care of myself."? Or should you always reach out, no matter what it does to you? What if there is more for you to give? What if you try and you find there isn't? Is breaking yourself worth the service you can give to others? Can you help someone become the best version of themselves through unrequited "love?"
I hope someday to be like Mother Teresa or Princess Diana or Ghandi or any other number of people who have changed lives through small, singular moments of genuine caring. I have a long way to go. I don't even know how to get there. But I hope someday I find the way.
When I first saw "The Dark Knight," I wasn't sure what I thought about it. Of course, I was part of the enthusiam created in an opening night crowd. It was obvious to me that it was an incredible film. Nothing lacked. Both "Batman Begins" and the latest installment in the series are deeply philosophical and psychological films -- an admirable feat (and intention) among the purile and inane Hollywood films that are so pervasive. But, I wondered if this film was too dark -- a question which raised some discussion among many across the nation. I'm happy to say that the film gets better the more I think about it.
