Day 2 and A Look Into My Mind

A Look Into My Mind

[Email sent: February 9, 2011]

I don't know why I'm sending you this. But I love this poem. For me, it hits right to the core of every internal battle I've been fighting since I learned how to think, back in the summer of 9th grade. I've decided I need to be bold. But every time I go for it, I shrink. I keep thinking the time for choice is ahead, when really, it is now. But actually, I don't know for sure. I don't know anything for sure. Since 9th grade I transformed myself into a go-with-my-flow girl. I let fate run its course. If it happens, it happens: this is the philosophy I live by. When will I sit down and realize that I need to make a decision?

It just occurred to me... perhaps why the same argument keeps coming back and back and back and back and back in my mind. It is because it is important. Some part of my future will be determined by a choice or choices I do or do not make now. But which way to choose? What is my choice?

I am a deep-sea fish, I've decided. I live under an extreme amount of pressure, but I think I'd rather see light. With every argument, indecision, procrastination, or imagination I put myself under more pressure. I have made myself into someone who defines the world around me by placing weights in my pack. I think I need to carry them all, all the time, because I never feel like I can find the "right spot" to place them. This is my whole problem.

This probably makes no sense to you. But I've realized that when I have a bunch of bottled-up thoughts, emotions, and ideas, I need to let them out. When I write about them, or think about them, or role play them, however, the pressure just grows. I need to export my ideas. And that means clicking "send."

But anyway. I genuinely want to put something into place within my core drivers of work and attitude. I need to be bold. I need to commit. The problem is what, and how, and when, and all those other details. Maybe... maybe that's not important, though. I'm positive that there is no one way to live my life. I may have a roadmap, that is, the scriptures, prayer, etc.; but I do not have step-by-step directions on how to get where I'm going. Maybe that's the point. I'm waiting at a four-way stop, trying to decide which way to turn, the cars behind me honk impatiently as if I've been stalling there forever, (which i have), and I still can't seem to make a decision. One day that needs to stop. Maybe today. Maybe tomorrow. But I have hesitency. My plan of action will thus be the destroy-hesitancy plan. Until then I have yet to think and decide. And be bold.

[end of email]


I have made a decision. After months (years, more likely) of turmoil, I am now one step closer to understanding my future. I feel the need to announce it in case I change my mind, so...

I will graduate from BYU with a B.A. in Saxophone Performance and Pedagogy

Thinking about it, it doesn't seem so life-changing, but that usually means it is. I now have a direction, via inspiration, of where to place my emphasis in future music study. I decided after school solo/ensemble that I do have a gift for classical playing. I also have a gift for saxophone playing. Someone upstairs must have helped me combine the two to create a future.

I'm still a little confused about where to put my jazz playing. I think maybe I'll try out for Legacy Band or something at BYU. Still debating over Super Band. I guess I have a little while to decide, and if that decision is anything like my recent one, I'll need some kind of experience(s) to base it on. Hopefully that will come during the next year. I have no doubt it will, after all, I've already taken the first step. I have been bold in my decision to decide a major before I'm accepted to the university. I will continue to be bold as I make other upcoming decisions. Luckily I have amazing parents--earthly and spiritual--who will guide me in this process.

Until then--B.A. in classical Sax, brace yourself! I'm coming.

Oh--and before I forget (actually, it's the reason I'm even posting)...

Day 2: A photo of a person(s), place, and thing that you love.

My beautiful instrument. (We'll be spending a lot of time together in college). :D
















My AMAZING family.
















The temple I would love to be married in. :) : )

DBC intro and Day 1

I am a major stalker. Okay, well... technically facebook's the stalker, since it's the one that led me to that person that led me to that blog that linked me to that blog... or, since, I'm controlling the mouse, does that mean I'm the stalker? Either way, I stole this

Daily Blog Challenge

From a friend of a student I don't know at Orem High. Creepy, right? But whatever. I'm bored of not being able to express myself--sometimes thoughts are so stubborn!

Here's how it goes:

Day 1: A picture of youself and a description of the most creative thought you entertained that day.

... okay, so I might've changed it a little. As the criminal, I reserve the right to intentionally desecrate, moderate, or otherwise mutate the objects in question. Of itself, change is not a crime. I will therefore proceed to add some personality into my Daily Blog Challenges. Don't like it? Deal.

Now, here's the sad part... I meant to post this yesterday. But, I believe in repentence! And efficiency! So I will proceed to post DAY 1 in addition to the intro to my new little project.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Day 1: A picture of youself and a description of the most creative thought you entertained that day.

Voila. So pretty. On to the interesting stuff.

I didn't "think" all that much today.... well, comparatively. I usually think a lot more than other people do, which can be a blessing or a curse, depending on the day. But that's not the point. Here's how I lay it down for today:

As I was running home from Young Womens, I passed a group of Young Men and their leaders returning to the church. As we approached each other, one of the leaders to the time to say, "Hi, Brittney." I suddenly felt flooded with happiness. Excitement, almost. Someone called me by name.

I know, I know. Silly thing to get excited about, but think about it! I have a name, and people know it. As if that's not cool enough (remember: there is beauty in simplicity), attached to that name is a person.

ME.

Along with all my other quirks, flaws, talents, abilities, strengths, shortcomings, and sarcastic attitudes. The name is mine, and on that topic: Juliet is wrong.

What's in a name? is the famous phrase. Enough with the roses, in a name lies a person. You, or me, or him, or her. A living, breathing soul with a living, breathing name. Here Juliet goes wrong, in that by any other name, that person would not be himself. A name reflects you, represents you, then becomes you. You are the name. She is Jann. He is Bradley. I am Brittney. And though another rose could smell sweeter, no other name could as accurately represent the person I am, have been, and will become.

Anyone else feel the urge to climb a tree and shout their name for joy? I do.

If any one thought was worth my notice today, it would be that I am Brittney!

* * * * * * * * * * * *

P.S. We did this poem thing in English, where we cut out a whole bunch of "poetic words." As a class, we didn't really know what to do, but I had a blast cutting apart magazines, gathering some 100 or so words (!). Today we finally used them in a poem. Mine went something like this:

This madness staring, captures
my memories and sets them ablaze.

what prestige, to journey into
silence.

A new dynamic
sounds, and I discover
Grace:
a rhapsody of flavor and color
as I awaken from a blazing
revolution.

I don't know. I kind of liked it. Enough to post it, that is. But I wouldn't recommend trying to think about it. It's one of those, this-sounds-deep-but-really-doesn't-mean-anything-poems. Whatever. Wrote it in five minutes (thank you self! The plethora of words to choose from helped greatly). Anyway.

Poetry for Amateurs

There's nothing like shocking news:

I became the Junior Poetry Editor for Argus, our student literary journal.



I know.

Since when am I a poet?

(Since now, apparently.)

I figured that if I am to be a decent editor of poetry, I should also be a decent writer of poetry. So I sat down one day, and began work. I felt quite proud of myself that I managed to write a poem I thought was deep and brilliant. I posted it here originally, but after rereading it... Well, it was nasty. Everything about it. I realized it was a poison to my nowhere-near-perfect-but-always-dreaming blog of free expression, so I removed it from the post.

Next I tried to set a goal to write a small poem every night, but I couldn't write a single word. They say poetry has infinite possibilities--art--and yet, sometimes even the most freedom can be the tightest confinement. It's counterintuitive. Or is it logic, the enemy of all art forms? Perhaps.

So maybe I'm not a poet. But lucky for me, I don't have to be. I just have to recognize good poetry well enough to make a decent editor. Since I do that easily with other forms of writing, I'm hoping it will be no problem. If not, there's always plan B.

(Run away as fast as possible and hope nobody finds me!)

Well, here goes being the Junior Poetry Editor! Wish me luck.

When You Give a Kid a Camera...

What a kid!

You Will Not Be Missed

Dear Drama,

As far as I've understood it, you and I have had a shun-shun relationship for some time now: I ignore you, you ignore me. That was the deal.

But since entering high school, I've found that it's much too difficult to stick with the program. No offense, but High School reeks of you. You're everywhere, and it makes everything so much more complicated--I can't even have a normal conversation with my best friends without having to deal with a little of you. This has got to stop. Don't take it personally, but get the heck out of my life. I'm sorry, but it's over. We're done. Kindly remove yourself from my presence.

Oh, and while you're busy packing up, be a dear and get out of my friends' lives as well. They don't need any of your "products" (rumors). None of your yearly "specials" (prom drama). I bet you anything they don't even want your ad stickers (any high school relationship) floating around the school. Please.

I don't mean to be harsh, but this is the way it's got to be. I feel bad our earlier arrangement didn't work out, but honestly--how long can you ignore someone without eventually stepping on their toes?

Drama, it's done. Please take it and face the fact that Orem High is a lost cause. And if you find you have too much room in your schedule after this, go and bother the politicians for crying out loud! They love you! Just don't ever think to come back, and we're all good.

Thanks so much for understanding. You're a rotten peach.

'Till never,

Maestro

The Butterfly Tree: A Musing

In the front garden of the place I call home, there grows a certain Butterfly Tree. It grows green leaves, but by summer it is red. It is small, for a tree, but from my point of view it stands twice as tall as any other. I've always felt a certain connection to that tree, and I think it began the evening it proved its name Butterfly, for that was the day it became mine.

It was a time ago, and I remember opening the door to surpirse. Many, perhaps hundreds of butterflies, all kissing the tree's flowers and leaves and trunk. The sight was majestic; I dared not approach the tree in fear of scaring off the beautiful creatures. Instead I observed from the window, sunlight warming my face through the glass. It has not happened since, those butterfly kisses, but as a child that one evening was enough for me to fall in love with the tree--I called it mine, and it was, and that was the end of it.

As time passed I watched my tree grow, bloom, change, then shed its colors and start over. I began to take pictures of it, for it was important to me to remember how it grows, and by so doing I noticed a miraculous happening.

Why am I so fascinated with the Butterfly Tree? I often ask myself. After all, my tree, like everything else, can only follow that natural cycle Heavenly Father laid out for it. Still, in my mind the tree seems to fill a greater role--one I have just begun to figure out. Thinking back, looking at my pictures, laying them side by side...

I think it reminds me of myself.

Like the Butterfly Tree, I grow. I change. I shed my colors and start over. I want to capture every happy moment, I want to weather every storm and stand proud through every trial. Someday, I think to myself, I will be presented with butterfly kisses, too. That will be the day I am claimed by one who is greater than I; but for now I am searching, watching, and growing. You could say my leaves are green, but one day they will turn red. One day, I will stand magnificent.

25 Things I Did This Week

1. Woke up early for school, a Stake Youth Council meeting, and just for the heck of it.
2. Curled my hair
3. Took pictures of trees, leaves, and flowers
4. Practiced saxophone
5. Aced a Calculus test
6. Read part of Great Expectations
7. Improvised a new melody--a lullaby
8. Said hello to my former band director
9. Met three new Young Women who moved into our ward
10. Watched a volleyball game
11. Ate lunch on the floor.
12. Sat by the fireplace in the morning before school
13. Ate Rice Krispies for breakfast
14. Decided who I'm going to ask for Sadies
15. Practiced aurally recognizing block chords
16. Took the PSAT. And wondered why the heck I was taking it.
17. Played clarient on a responsive reed for the first time since July!
18. Learned how to play the Propel bottle like a flute
19. Burst out dancing in my living room
20. Wore bright red to school
21. Fell asleep on the LuvSac and had to wake up to get ready for bed... for real
22. Imagined myself wearing plaid and a belt buckle the size of Texas
23. Cheered for the rescued miners
24. Transcribed a Johnny Hodges jazz solo
AND...
25. Sat on the curb for twenty minutes while writing on the sidewalk with a crabapple