Throwing a Pot As Opposed to a Fit

Here are a few shots of one of my latest pots from my class. My efforts at pot-throwing (and by this I mean the creative kind of throwing, not the destructive kind of throwing; the difference being that your mom is less angry about you doing the first kind in the house than the second) are improving, I think. This bowl is about the tenth thing I've thrown on the wheel, and I can already see my progress in getting the clay centered better, as well as forming a more centered hole. Centering is the process by which you move the clay from where you slapped it down on the wheel, uneven and lumpy, to the exact center of the wheel. The object of centering is to achieve uniformity in the clay, thus producing a uniformly round pot. It looks so easy when someone experienced does it, but this is the fourth week of my class and there are some who still struggle with it.

Similarly, opening the hole in the exact center of the clay is important, too. If you haven't, you will still have an off-center pot, despite the careful centering of the clay you did just previously.

There's a lot of fascinating physics involved in throwing on the wheel. Really, this kind of pottery is all about physics -- it relies on properties of physics to create beautiful works of art. In that way it is different from painting and drawing or even other kinds of pottery. I don't understand the specifics, but I really enjoy using the principles to create pots. I'm not sure what this one is, truthfully, but I figure my mom and dad will be happy with whatever I give them, right?

Maybe next time I'll shoot a play-by-play of the creation of a pot.

I'm always sad when September ends

...but I really do love October. October is such a yummy, plummy, mysterious kind of month. All the trees explode into color and the air gets crisp. People wear sweaters and hoodies and drink hot chocolate, and no one wears short shorts or sandals anymore. I never feel like the world is dying when autumn rolls around, like some; I always think of it as getting ready to wrap itself up in the chill, white blankets of winter snow and falling asleep. I sympathize. I love bedtime! I love getting into my jammies and snuggling down in my bed under my blankets. I love breathing in the cold air in the room, and the contrast between it and my lovely warm self. I love jackets and peacoats and hats and mittens and crunchy leaves and all that comes with autumn!

I need a haircut

I haven't had one since a couple of weeks before I left Korea. Not that you can really tell, since I mostly wear my hair up, but it's the principle of the matter.

Since I wrote my last post, I turned 23 (ack!) and went back to the pottery studio twice more, last night and this afternoon. Last night another woman came in, not to throw a pot, but to wedge some porcelain she's going to work with. She's obviously a lot more skilled than the rest of us; we had a nice little chat as we worked, and I found out her husband is doing his residency here, so their family is here for just a few years. She needed to find a studio where she could pretty much come and go as she needed to, but that was also adequate for her purposes, and here we were! She gave me some great tips about how to work with the clay, too, that really helped me to center it a lot better than I'd been able to previously. See the fruit of my efforts today:

It's a recognizable (and mostly completely round) plate!

Sadly, this little beauty didn't make it off the wheel; when I tried to cut it off with the wire, the wire tore through the bottom of the plate, thus making it useless. But I hope to make a complete place setting for four (dinner and salad plates, bowls, and mugs at least) by the time I get out of this class. I'd have the beginnings of a dowry! And it would be so satisfying to eat off them, knowing that I made them with my own hands. Assuming they didn't have flaws that my perfectionism would continually bother me with. But anyway.

I'm off to seminar now, I just thought I'd offer this little picture. Sorry for the quality; I took it on my phone, lacking a better camera.

My First Adventure in Throwing a Pot on the Wheel

"The desire to create is one of the deepest yearnings of the human soul. No matter our talents, education, backgrounds, or abilities, we each have an inherent wish to create something that did not exist before."

Nothing I can do looks remotely like this.

I've always wanted to be able to throw a pot on the wheel. When I was younger, in middle school, I took a sculpting class, but we only did pinch pots and the like. Our teacher did a demonstration on the wheel for us, but we never got the chance to try it ourselves. Over the years, I've done other projects in clay, and I think it's always been my favorite artistic medium.

This year, in an effort to broaden my horizons and gain a little more depth I've decided to stop saying no to all the opportunities that come my way. So when I got an email about the Continuing Education and Fine Arts program on campus having a pottery wheel class, instead of just saying to myself, "Oh, I'll never get in, there're only a limited number of spots," I printed out the form and filled it out. And now here I am, on the other side of my first time throwing a pot.

"Everyone can create. You don’t need money, position, or influence in order to create something of substance or beauty. Creation brings deep satisfaction and fulfillment. We develop ourselves and others when we take unorganized matter into our hands and mold it into something of beauty."

It was definitely a lot harder than it looks. When you see someone really good do it, the clay just seems to flow into the desired shape with no more effort than a stream parting around a hand placed in its waters. The reality is a lot different. It takes a lot more strength than you would think, but even if I still can't manage to correctly center my clay or put the hole in the exact center of the pot, it's still very rewarding to see something forming out of an amorphous blob of clay and know that your hands did it. I'm excited to continue growing as I learn more. :)

I definitely do not look this cool while making my pots. Or this clean, for that matter.

"The more you trust and rely upon the Spirit, the greater your capacity to create. That is your opportunity in this life and your destiny in the life to come. [T]rust and rely on the Spirit. As you take the normal opportunities of your daily life and create something of beauty and helpfulness, you improve not only the world around you but also the world within you."

--President Dieter F. Uchtdorf

This is why...

...I have the cutest little brother in the whole wide world!

Heidi's Wedding: One Down, Seven to Go

OR

WHY I WILL RUN

AWAY AND ELOPE

and save myself the stress of a wedding and reception

My little sister Heidi married her fiancé Doug in the Nashville Tennessee Temple on 5 September 2009. What follows is a visual record of the occasion (well, at least the seemingly happier parts of it). Thanks to Meg and her mom, Miss Jean, for the pictures.

The bridesmaids: (l to r) Lizzie, Dominique, Meg, and me

"Becca, let me give you some advice: don't make me wear red at your wedding".

Boredom is a scary thing (waiting for Heidi and Doug to come out of the temple).

They're married.

Don't they look so happy?

All the bridesmaids and the junior bridesmaids. My sister Becca is on the far left; his sister Paige is on the far right. That's my youngest sister Marianne in the middle. I'm the one making the weird face.

Showing off our shoes and bouquets! (Those shoes hurt!) Mine is the pretty big red rose.

Saving a space for our brother, Stephen, who's on a mission in Hong Kong.

His and hers families

Nathan, bored with it all and tired of being forced to smile for pictures, takes a phone call from Grandma Saunders.

Marianne takes a break from all the heat and humidity in the shelter of the temple's porch.

The absolutely ginormous cake - it would have fed a reception four times the size of Heidi's. A friend of ours in our ward generously made it as her wedding gift.

...and the infamous bouquet toss. Guess who caught it?

AnnMarie...

...now has a bona fide brother-in-law.

*ponders this*

Weird.

I love September!

Besides being my birthday month (only 1.5 weeks left!), September, along with October, are the most beautiful months of the year. Summer is definitely not my favorite season, and while winter and spring have their own charms, I shall forever be an autumn girl. And it almost seems that the weather itself is celebrating the advent this most lovely of seasons -- for the last few days it's been pleasantly cool, with a playful breeze keeping the beaming sun from being too hot. Pretty soon the leaves will start to change colors, and it will begin to get cool and then even cold and we'll all be snuggled up in our jackets and sweaters and get to drink hot chocolate.

Oh, I love fall. :)

thanks to this website for the photograph

Welcome Back, AnnMarie!

Today is my first Saturday as a college student in over two years. I can hardly believe it! I'm so excited to be back. I'm even almost excited to be swamped with homework this weekend, too. (Almost.) It is weird not being in class with the people I know, though. In that way, it's kind of like being a freshman all over again, but it's nice that I get to see my friends at all. My friends who went on missions from the Naval Academy came back to most of the people they knew being gone altogether. So I'll count my blessings and be glad that I get to see so many of my friends again.

Move-in was Tuesday. Boy! It took me five trips to get everything from the apartment I was staying in to my new dorm room, and I had to haul everything up two flights of very steep stairs to boot. Thankfully, on the fourth trip (that was my very heavy suitcases) a girl sitting on a bench at the top of the hill saw me and came running down the walk to ask if she could help me. She then proceeded to haul my suitcase all the up the hill, to my dorm, and then to my actual room -- and she did it in two-inch heels. I was very impressed, and very thankful, too. Her name was Lydia, and she's a sophomore, so maybe I'll see her again. In any case, I hope something very nice happens to her this week.

a blurry shot of my dorm room

Our first class of the year is always seminar, our history/philosophy/literature class. This year, being a sophomore, I started with Genesis 1-11. It was an interesting class discussion; we spent most of the time hung up on what it means to be naked, and why Adam and Eve would eat the forbidden fruit and then hide themselves because they were naked. We didn't even get to talk about Noah and the flood at all, or even the Tower of Babel. The whole time, I was so grateful for the light of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ, and for the fact that I didn't have to worry about not having the answers to these questions. Because of restored truth, I don't have to worry about the seeming contradictions in the creation stories of Genesis 1 and Genesis 2. I don't have to worry that (supposedly) God seems to be different in those chapters, or wonder why the snake was even talking to Eve in the first place. I know what it means that Adam and Eve were created in the image and likeness of God. I know that the Fall wasn't an accident, but a necessary piece of a larger plan, created so that we can return to our Heavenly Father and become like Him, and live with our families forever (see this website for a more complete explanation). And I'm grateful for my experience as a missionary, because it gave me the patience and the perspective I needed to make it through that discussion without becoming discouraged or getting angry. Ah, the Lord really does know what He's about, and He prepares us for the trials we will face in our lives.

Next time: Why Greek and I don't get along so well after two intervening years studying Korean.

Little Things That Make Me Happy

My freshman year at St. John's, I decided to make a list of 101 "simple things" that make me happy. It was a great experience, and rereading it makes me smile and lifts my hearts every time. I thought today that I'd make a short list of the simple, post-mission things that make me happy.

sunsets

small children playing

cranberry juice

hugs

"How thankful I am, how thankful we all must be, for the women in our lives."

-- President Gordon B. Hinckley

This article is a sobering look at the challenges facing women and girls today, especially in developing countries. I hope that you will take the time to read it; I think it will change how you think of the challenges in your own life. Find the article here at the New York Times. When you've had a chance to read it, I would love to hear your thoughts.

Meanwhile, here's a little something to whet your curiosity. 

"Traditionally, the status of women was seen as a “soft” issue — worthy but marginal. We initially reflected that view ourselves in our work as journalists. We preferred to focus instead on the “serious” international issues, like trade disputes or arms proliferation. Our awakening came in China.

"After we married in 1988, we moved to Beijing to be correspondents for The New York Times. Seven months later we found ourselves standing on the edge of Tiananmen Square watching troops fire their automatic weapons at prodemocracy protesters. The massacre claimed between 400 and 800 lives and transfixed the world; wrenching images of the killings appeared constantly on the front page and on television screens.

"Yet the following year we came across an obscure but meticulous demographic study that outlined a human rights violation that had claimed tens of thousands more lives. This study found that 39,000 baby girls died annually in China because parents didn’t give them the same medical care and attention that boys received — and that was just in the first year of life. A result is that as many infant girls died unnecessarily every week in China as protesters died at Tiananmen Square. Those Chinese girls never received a column inch of news coverage, and we began to wonder if our journalistic priorities were skewed.

"A similar pattern emerged in other countries. In India, a “bride burning” takes place approximately once every two hours, to punish a woman for an inadequate dowry or to eliminate her so a man can remarry — but these rarely constitute news. When a prominent dissident was arrested in China, we would write a front-page article; when 100,000 girls were kidnapped and trafficked into brothels, we didn’t even consider it news." 

-- Kristoff and WuDunn in Half the Sky

read the whole article

Knowing things like this happen in the world only makes me more grateful for the light of the restored Gospel -- and with it, the knowledge that the Lord knows and loves each and every one of His daughters just as much as He loves His sons. Truly, in the eyes of God, there is no inequality between the genders; that rests in the eyes of humanity alone.

Want some further reading on the subject? See what a prophet of God has said about the women in our lives, and what the Lord has told His children about the family.

A Week Out

A week ago today I left home for the third time in three years. I must say, I was much more excited about it when I left three years ago than I was this time around. But when I got here this last Sunday evening after visiting with my aunt for the weekend, I was happy to be "home".

Truly, I've greatly missed Annapolis and all her charms. I'd forgotten how different the East Coast is from the South. The pace is different. The people are different. Part of that is because I live in a huge tourist attraction; and especially this time of year, there are tourists crawling all around downtown Annapolis. (Thankfully most of them avoid SJC -- I guess we're not as "cool" as the Naval Academy. Or at least we're not as impressive to look at, lacking the sharp, tailored uniforms of the midshipmen.) Of course, some of that can be accounted for in the disparate sizes of Annapolis and Martin -- Annapolis is more than five times the size of Martin -- but some of it definitely is an intangible air that comes with being more than 300 years old and surrounded by the Chesapeake. And of course, there's the veneer and subtle arrogance of wealth here that is noticeably lacking in a small town.

Last night I had an hour-and-a-half-long discussion with my roommate that would have sent most people screaming from the room after only fifteen minutes, assuming they could have made heads or tails of what we were talking about. Ah, Johnnies! What a breed apart you are -- not because you're necessarily any better, but because you're so deliciously different from the rest of the world. Where else could you debate Kant's principle of non-contradiction at eleven-thirty at night? Where else would someone under the age of forty even know what that was? Where else would you find 18- and 20-year-olds more likely to be discussing the philosophies of long-dead Greeks than the latest Hollywood gossip? Where else would you find students willing to go to class at eight pm, and voluntarily go to a lecture on Friday night? There's not much of the practical and concrete at SJC, but that's one of the reasons I love it. There's a dark side to it, too, but for today I'm content to just enjoy the bright side.

(And thank you to this website for the pictures of the Naval Academy (top) and St. John's (bottom, it's the dorm where I used to live.))

New Beginnings and Lots of Painful Goodbyes

You'd think, after going to seven different schools in thirteen years, going off to college not only once but twice, and serving a mission in a country halfway around the world, I'd be good at packing everything up and heading out into the unknown.

You'd think that, but what d'ya know, it's still as hard this time as it was the first time.

I think it gets harder as I get older because when I pack up and head out into the unknown, I don't have my family right there with me. I miss seeing my little brother go off to kindergarten, I miss my sister's second-grade projects, I miss even getting to spend the last few weeks with my sister before she gets married. As much as I know it's right and good for me to have my own experiences, it's hard to leave my family. I've always been a homebody, and I probably always will be. It's a similar dilemma to the one I wrote about last time -- I want to travel 'round the world having adventures and learning new things...and yet, I really just want to stay home and watch my siblings grow up.

Being grown up is not as much fun as people make it out to be.

Soybeans and Adventure

While sweeping the floor this afternoon, I was pondering on a great many things. It's interesting how you can have entire dialogues and arguments in your head -- examining the pros and cons of certain actions, reflecting on a certain philosophical idea -- in a much more elegant, more succinct way, and at a much more rapid pace than you can when you actually try to articulate it, in either spoken words or written on the page (or blog). That fact opens up an interesting discussion about whether language is really necessary for thought, or for the communication of ideas...but that topic is for another time.

As I said, as I was sweeping the kitchen floor this afternoon, I was reflecting on how much I've enjoyed being home. Since coming home from Korea, with its bustling citylife and millions of people, I've come to deeply appreciate the quiet of the small-town life here in Martin. The things I used to scoff at -- the acres of soybean fields inside the city limits, cows grazing in a roadside pasture next to the main street, the small, old-fashioned downtown --I now find soothing and even compelling. What can be more beautiful than the verdant velvet carpet of soybeans against the darker green backdrop of the trees, spread out under the brilliant blue summer sky dotted with towering clouds? More than ever before, I am content with being at home with my family, surrounded by not much of anything and not doing much.

And yet, another part of me misses all the hustle and bustle and excitement of the city. Part of me loves action movies and adventure stories and explosions, and longs to explore an as-yet undiscovered strange new land. What is it about myself that has such diametrically opposed desires? Are all of us made up of these "opposing forces", in a manner of speaking? Because it's not just in this matter that I find myself at odds with myself. Is all humankind striving between two or more forces that pull in opposite directions?

What great weather we've had lately

Mom and I finally figured out my financial aid situation, and frankly, it's not all that hot. Mom submitted all the paperwork that was required before I even came home, but it wasn't until about five months later -- in the middle of June -- that they calculated my award and sent it to me. I'm not sure why that is, but sadly, even though tuition and housing costs have risen and our family has more kids in college now (three! plus my dad's doing his doctorate), they gave me less aid than my original award my freshman year. That leaves me with about a $6000 gap between my aid and my expenses, and I have to find it before August. I might end up just having to take out a personal loan and start working two jobs to cover everything. If you could spare a couple of seconds to send up some prayers on my behalf, I would greatly appreciate it. 

This week marks the fifth week of work, with two more left in the summer program (it ends the last Friday in July). School doesn't start at SJC until the end of August, so I'm seriously thinking about going out to Annapolis a couple of weeks early, crashing on someone's couch, and spending that time hunting for a job -- or two. Mom and I haven't talked about it yet, really. For sure, though, I won't have a job here after the 24th. I can't believe how fast June went, and now July is speeding along, too! Speaking of July, this last weekend was the Fourth of July. As much as I love Korea and want to go back, it sure was nice to celebrate the Fourth in the good ol' US of A. :D Our family, at the invitation of (and with the generous support of) a couple in our ward, spent a wonderful three-day vacation at Reelfoot Lake, about 45 minutes from home. They went last year, too, but as I was in Korea, I didn't get to go. We went on a three-hour pontoon boat tour of the lake and got to see lots of herons, egrets, some turtles and ducks and even a copperhead! Some of the braver among us (not me, in other words) had froglegs for breakfast one morning. Surprisingly, they're really huge! I thought they'd be little and spindly, but these frogs much be the size of small chickens -- either that, or they did a lot of leg presses prior to being cut off and fried. We went swimming in the lake, went fishing, and watched part of a History Channel documentary on the Revolutionary War, and Friday night we had an awesome time shooting off lots and lots of fireworks. Growing up in Utah, you associate fireworks that explode in the sky with stadiums and big crowds, and only get to shoot the ground-bound ones off with your family or neighborhood. But when you live in a state that is 3/4 water, they let you shoot off all kinds of fireworks! And of course, I got completely devoured by mosquitos despite liberally applied amounts of bug repellant. (I think at last count I was over 30.) Thankfully, I've avoided sunburn for the last couple weeks, so at least I didn't have to suffer that.

Last night we had the missionaries and my boss over for dinner. It was a really great time. I'd been warning Mr. Robert about the craziness of dinner at our house...only to bring him home to perfectly behaved children. I swear, it's a first for our entire existence, and I know they did it out of spite. My mom made a great meal, and the elders shared a message that really seemed to touch Mr. Robert. He even chimed in after Elder Teuscher (that's too-shur) had finished presenting his message about serving Christ as we serve others (Mosiah 2:17) with a great insight of his own, and we had a lovely discussion about changing our attitudes towards the efforts we make for other people. My dad even sang part of "A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief" a cappella. I'm grateful for the member missionary opportunities this job has given me. My testimony of the importance of member missionary work is growing every day -- and now that the mission president has whitewashed the ward next to us and put in sisters, maybe I'll even get to go on exchanges with them! It's only an hour drive, after all. :)

That's about all there is of interest, really. Rick came home at the last transfer, so we FINALLY, after almost two years, get to talk on the phone to each other without obtaining permission from President. It's been fun to hear the latest news from the mission and hear about his experiences with some of the people I got to serve with as well. Interestingly enough, I'm having just as hard a time transitioning back into calling him "Rick" again as I did trying to remember to call him "Elder Murphy" when we first went to the MTC. I am sad to admit, though, that he knows more Korean vocab than I do -- probably due to four transfers with a native companion instead of my one and only. I spell better, though, so it's not a complete loss. :)