I moved. What Else is New.

So, I sat down and thought. Often, sitting is the best position for thinking. Think about it. Haven't you done some of your best thinking on the toilet? Don't you do most of or much of your homework or work or busyness or creating while sitting? And do you not drive in a sitting position and enjoy wonderful dexterity of mind? Indeed, and in thought. So, thus sitting, I realized that in the past three years I have resided in...Provo (mom's house and Alta apartments) Pleasant Grove, Provo, Canada, Provo, Alaska, West Jordan and just the other day (March 19 to be exact) I defaulted back to Provo yet again. Before I go to Alaska yet again.

The moving party consisted of three manly volunteers, two from my West Jordan ward and another who used to be my home teacher in the Alta ward (he shall be named O'Neil). They packed approximately twenty apple boxes, four pillows and one alligator into two cars, mine and O'Neil's, and I returned and packed my own car once more with all the things I would be needing until and in Alaska. Much appreciation, men.

O'Neil is a fantastic specimen of men. Here, let us dissect him. When he enters a place, immediately the positive energy of said place increases a hundred fold. One can't help but be delighted by his presence and drawn into pleasant and easy conversation with him. Even the shy children instantly take to him, which is a great quality. He is hilarious. Basically he could kill me every day with laughter wounds inflicted by his sharp wit... He could be scary, what with his six-five/six height and great big hands, but he's just too darn cheery to even hint toward intimidation. He was a stellar home teacher and I can only imagine is still quite consistent in his church service because it just shows; he happily served a mission, happily goes to school, happily fills his shifts at a hospital as a chaplain (i know, random, right?), volunteers for many things, happily, and just lives in a contagiously happy way. He's a fabulous sort.

My mom cleared a tunnel in her sewing room for me to burrow into until I mine my way North to the Last Frontier. It's cramped, dusty, haunted by costumes of halloween past and the makings of every possible costume of halloween future...but the stiff mattress is softer than the concrete under the carpet AND it's actually long enough for my slumbering bod. Countin' my blessings. My fabric cave is in the basement, so it's nice and dark...which means the sun never wakes me and I occasionally dismiss my alarm and thus miss my 8am class, like today.

My 8am class is beginning sculpture. I like it. Right now we're sculpting eyes, ears, mouths and noses (replicas of Michaelangelo's David) using oil-based clay. Here's a picture of the nose I did:

Recently I've been sick and all the while that I was molding this nose I was sniffling with my own. And I found it strange picking the nostrils to clear them out. And by the end it was looking so much like the actual nose of a person, I nearly felt nosy all up in his or her stolen facial component. okay okay, enough with the nose jokes. they stink.

And here's a snake (abstraction) I carved out of plaster!

Tried to make him look coiled in his own special way...

I went for a sort of 'jester' pattern for the scaly effect

And for an 'under belly' lined texture here

My dad helped me (in other words completely did it for me) put the step pattern in the base. No one else really did their base different. Bonus genious-points for me.

Isn't it so cool? Well, I think it. Still haven't decided what to name him. My lil sis said "Jerry", with a French accent. I thought "Señor" since he looks all Aztecy. Your submissions will be considered.

Well, now there's really nothing more to say except that it is extremely windy outside and I jumped on the trampoline. I've mentioned this before here and here so I obviously have a true and abiding love for this activity...even if it mostly just proves how out of shape my aging body is. two and a half months until I'm 27. hm.