Sunday, June 26, 2011
Texas or California?
Well, ta ta for now. Love you all!
Kathryn
Sunday, June 12, 2011
A few of my favorite things...
Hello from my mind:
So I just want to share with you a few things that are rocking my world right now. Just for fun, and because I can't think of anything extraordinary to say.
1. Elephants. I just saw that Water for Elephants movie a while ago and have become somewhat obsessed with elephants since then. They are the coolest animals God ever dreamed up.

2. Brandi Carlisle: "Before it Breaks." I just really really love this song right now. I've listened it to it ten times in the last hour. Soon it will probably not be my favorite song anymore. hahah. Here is a youtube link to the song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oPLST5EYsSE
3. The writing of John Stuart Mill: "I never, indeed, wavered in the conviction that happiness is the test of all rules of conduct, and the end of life. But I now thought that this end was only to be attained by not making it the direct end. Those only are happy (I thought) who have their minds fixed on some object other than their own happiness; on the happiness of others, on the improvement of mankind, even on some art or pursuit, followed not as a means, but as itself an ideal end. Aiming thus at something else, they find happiness by the way."
4. The Book of Mormon: Another Testament of Jesus Christ. Guided by the inspiration of a friend and home teacher (and the Spirit of course), I decided to challenge myself to read the Book of Mormon in a month, which means i need to read 17 pages a day. It is a time sacrifice for sure, but already my life is changing under the power of that book (again!). It is a great gift I'm giving to my life right now.
5. Poetry. Poetry. Poetry. As usual. I'm still inhaling it and doing my best to write it. It remains my most violent, rapturous passion in life. :) Here is a poem I wrote recently after watching a video about the old film critic/ writer, Roger Ebert after his jaw removal:
Voice: To Roger Ebert
As I look at you I realize that voice is something altogether
separate from larynx, pharynx, palate, tongue, teeth, lips, sound.
Voice is being. Voice is thought. Voice is essence.
A cold, empty voice is now yours.
It was manufactured by some tech geniuses in Scotland.
I wonder what you did the first morning you woke up
after they removed your jaw,
and you tried to speak.
Did you cry?
Did you weep?
What happens to the mind when ability is swallowed by disability?
Of this I know something.
Is voice inherent?
Is voice cultivated?
Was I born with my voice?
Voice is the dearest treasure in the universe.
I never knew that until I heard yours.
6. Friends. I really have been blessed with the most remarkable friends in the wide world. A few of my dearest friends in the world came to visit me in Rexburg this weekend: a mission companion, mission friend, and convert I taught on my mission. It was a delightful weekend. Here are a few pics of us traversing my little town.Monday, March 14, 2011
Going to the Mattresses
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Birthday Photos!
Sunday, February 27, 2011
And then I was 24
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Exciting news..
Thursday, February 17, 2011
I am no longer standing...
Motherless
I have forgotten the way you used to talk,
tenderly and excitedly,
as if you were utterly engrossed in my teenage babbling,
as I lay on your bed and watched you quilt,
with a Turner Classic movie playing in the background.
I can’t recall the feel of your skin,
soft and weathered,
against mine,
as we embraced,
and you whispered secrets in my ear.
I have forgotten the cackle in your laugh,
that always filled in the spaces at parties,
and was greeted with laughter in turn,
by everyone near.
I don’t remember how you spent your days,
while we were at school,
and you were alone in our big, empty house,
because I never asked you.
I have forgotten the way you used to defend us
like we were your dearest and most beautiful possessions,
when anyone ever tried to hurt us.
I don’t remember the way your silver hair
shimmered in the sunlight,
gently brushed and curled by your careful hands,
or the smell of your mauve lipstick on Sundays.
I wish I could remember what you loved so much
about the gospel you taught us,
or the way you prepared copious lessons for ten years
to teach to teenagers who weren’t even awake to hear them.
I have forgotten the way you used to love me,
as no one else could.
I have forgotten what you saw in me
when your eyes lit up as they pierced mine,
and I knew you saw who I really was.