"Few are those who see with their own eyes and feel with their own hearts"-Albert Einstein

Being the youngest of four siblings basically trains you to have idols. I didn’t have just one person to look up to, but I had three. My oldest brother, Abe, is bold and creative. Andrew is charming and friendly. My sister Sarah is poised and caring. I grew up being overwhelmed by idols and it became was easy to lose sight of who I was. One thing for certain, I never had a fantasy about idols being perfect, I always knew they were flawed no matter how wonderful I felt they all were.

Abe is the oldest and the boldest. He’s never afraid to go after what he wants and will work until he accomplishes it. Studying art I am now submersed among creative minds, but I have never met someone as creative as Abe. From writing to music, he always finds ways to impress me with his creativity.

Andrew has always been the golden child. He was the quarterback of our high school football team and an overall stellar athlete. What I have always found myself admiring about Andrew is how much he cares. He’s good at things because he works hard to make them happen.

My sister and I were the closest when we were young. Mainly because we are only 18 months apart and were put in all the same activities. Still, I looked to her for each and every move that I would make. I spent a solid 8 years of my life pretending to be shy because I found that quality in her so endearing. Today, she is the only person who can completely balance me out. Being connected at the hip our entire lives made for a pretty strong bond.

As much as I still look up to all my older siblings today, I never thought they were perfect. What can be wrong with idolizing people is loosing sight of who you really are. I was looking up to so many people, I somehow got lost along the way. When I came to college, it was natural for me to look up to people, so I did the same with my friends. It wasn’t until one of my closest friends pointed out to me how much of myself I was missing out on. She doesn’t even remember that conversation, but in that moment, I knew I had to stop looking towards others and start looking towards myself. No matter how perfect or flawed idols may seem, I am still finding it is more important to discover my own perfections and imperfections.

Denim Expert: Prompt 34

While looking for an expert on anything or perhaps everything, I ventured over to my neighbors to see if that had any knowledge to share. Much to my surprise, I was living next door to an expert on denim.

“Denim is currently having a great resurgence of unsanforized selvedge denim in the United States.” Ben explained to me. He must have been aware of the confusion on my face as he went on to explain

“Sanforizedation is the treatment of fabrics that helps retain shape and color after washing. Selvedge is type of weave that was originally woven to prevent fraying. It requires a specific loom and is usually marked by the hem which is either a blue or red line. It started in America in the 40s and 50s, just as a working mans pants that would last forever. It got popular among motorcycle riders because they would go through jeans so quickly. Levi had the first popular brand. Unsanforized selvedge wore really well, it has a natural elasticity it naturally fades and contours to your body shape. Soak your jeans and put them on when there a little wet and they’ll naturally form to your body. Non selvedge is cheaper to make and mass produce. Sewing machines allowed for this to happen, so Japanese were buying the old machines and refurbished them, The Japanese has perfected this American craft”

At this point I was quit impressed and overwhelmed my Ben’s knowledge on denim. A topic I had never even thought to explore. I can remember the days of going to the store and buying jeans that were already faded and wondering why new jeans were bought looking as though they’d been worn.

“People started wanted denim that faded because designers started making jeans that looked salvaged and selling them at a high price. When the reality is if you buy selvedge jeans you can create this look for yourself. Now Americans are making them and getting good at it once again.”

Now feeling inspirited to go purchase a pair of jeans that I can fade myself and make custom to my own body, I wondered where would someone purchase such a thing. Ben knew just the place.

“Roy Slaper is the man with the master plan. He makes his jeans, hand made. I have a pair that almost 200 wears and plan on going 400 without soaking them. I probably won’t ever wash them, only soak they when the elasticity of the jeans catches up so they fit too big. Roy Slaper denim comes from America, but cotton from Japan is the best (as well as the craftsmanship). But Roy is competing really well.”

It’s good to know that America sold its craft to only wish they hadn’t years later. Still it’s great to know that Roy Slaper is bringing back American denim. Overall, I was quit impressed with Ben’s ability to speak so expertly on a topic all while being so casual. Ben seems to reflect a good pair of Roy Slapers jeans, high is quality and casual in appearance.


A video of Roy Slaper:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b3guozBZyKE

Peer Review

Brandon: For the blog written in two different perspectives, I was completely shocked by the third person perspective. I even had to read it twice. I appreciate that you created such a unique viewpoint for someone else. I would recommend elaborating more on perspective two, it was a little confusing. Also for this style of writing I would suggest making some longer sentences to create a stronger flow. However, in your second blog, great use of rhythm and flow. You captured the awkward situation not just through description but also through rhythm. It added a lot to this post, so great work.

Chelsee: For your perspective blogs, I love your subtle use of humor. The story wasn't lighthearted and humorous but you added moments of it. This really made an enjoyable read because you didn't overwhelm the audience with emotion. You could have focused on the feeling of anxiety, but I appreciate that you made light of it. In the prompt it asked us to really envision the other person perspective and I could really hear your voice in both of them. I know I did the exact same thing as well, but I wonder what we could do to capture the essence of someone else's voice.

Leena: There is something so poetic about your posts in first and third perspective. The sense of rhythm and flow was so wonderful and really swept me up into the story. Also, it's also a topic I can relate to, so I appreciated it. You could have written more on both perspectives, the story wasn't incomplete, but there could be more. I really enjoyed your second blog as well. You give the reader just enough to get lost in the story without being over bearing. I loved how Brittany came to life through dialogue rather than description. I also appreciated the relationship between the two characters and how they balanced each other out. One came to life through inner dialogue and the other through speaking, which in itself reflected the personality of both characters.

UNcomfortable place: Prompt 33

Hey guys! This is Thursday March 24th post. But I'll be out of town for a dance festival. I had to do all the work over Spring Break and Post it today. Just thought I'd let you know so you weren't confused!


“Now today we are launching something new an exciting”

After almost three years of working for a massive corporation, I know what this really means: we are going to make a series of unnecessary changes. This phrase I had heard at least three times a year, and I can promise you that each time something “exciting” was happening, I would have to go through a slew of new rules from a rulebook that was already massive. But I would politely nod my head, smile, and adapt.

Change is something I love, but rules are something that make a cringe. New rules adding on to a previous list of rules is something I’d rather not face. The real problem was me, I actually attempted to follow each guideline accurately as possible. This is not my preferred way of living, but I wanted to work to a decent promotion. Finally, all the rules weighed down on me and I fell into a place of complete discomfort.

The location I worked at would cycle through employees faster than you can imagine. Most people would last for a solid year, not many stay for a second, and hardly any stay for a third. The constant flow of people makes it impossible for someone to feel any ease during a shift, which is an unnecessary amount of stress for a college job. My last few months there, I encountered a micromanager. This was a dream for her boss, and a nightmare for her employees. If having a constant stream of customers to deal with wasn’t enough to think about, every time your fingers touched your face, she’d remind you to wash your hands. This combined with my own impulse to follow all the guidelines left with more than I can handle.

One would think that after being a devoted worker for so long you would gain more respect, but honestly I just found discomfort. Corporate anything allows for the treatment of each employee as waste. Being treated like waste isn’t something I enjoy all that much, so after having my fill I left this place of discomfort. Oddly enough, I found myself in a local coffee shop where homeless people sleep on couches and women with beards ask for water. Yet somehow, I find myself far more comfortable amongst all of these people then I did working for a corporation.

First Person: Prompt 29

I grew up in a small town in southern Arizona. The people you meet in kindergarten are the people you graduate high school with, and by 5th grade most groups of friends have been formed. I was not so lucky. I spent elementary, middle, and most of high school wondering around and never really finding my nitch. By the time I was a junior in high school, I had given up on the friend quest and became content with my life.

Of course, that’s when things always change. I had know Alexis since kindergarten but we never really even spoke. I was with the nerds, and she was with the cool kids so our paths rarely intersected. But we both joined the dance team at our high school and we immediately clicked. We couldn’t be further from opposite. She was tough, straightforward, and never afraid to speak her mind. I was overly sensitive, too nice, and pretty nerdy. Together we balanced each other out and taught each other a lot about life. But it wasn’t just the two of us that bounded: her best friend since forever Jeff rounded out the group with his fun loving carefree attitude.

The three of us got really close really quickly. We had found such a perfect balance between us all. But when high school ended, things changed. As much as we all wanted to stay close, we all ended up in different parts of the country. Still I made time for both of them in my life. When Alexis told me she was getting married, I immediately saved the date so I could be there. Jeff and I talked and we were both ecstatic for her big day.

As the day got closer and closer, I started getting serious calls from both of them. Jeff called me about two weeks before the wedding to let me know he couldn’t make it. He was devastated and scared of how it would impact their friendship. I told him he needed to tell her immediately, but of course he put it off. A week before the wedding, Alexis called me enraged. I told her it was her day and he shouldn’t let him ruin it.

The wedding was beautiful. Jeff text me the entire time asking me for details, but Alexis told me not to tell him anything. I was afraid the three of us were coming to an end.

After the wedding, it only got worse. Alexis’s strong will and stubbornness made sure she’d never let him live this down. Jeff’s carefree attitude and forgetfulness made it difficult to make his remorse seem sincere. I have stayed good friends with both these people, but it was sad to see such a strong friendship come to an end.

Third Person: Prompt 29

We had been best friends since kindergarten. For as long as I can remember, I wanted to start my own family and he wanted to become a fashion photographer. By the young age of 20, he was living in New York following his dreams and I was about to get married. I couldn’t believe that after over 15 years of knowing each other, we both were fulfilling our dreams. But, realistically, our goals had pulled our lives in two entirely different directions and the last couple years had been hard on our friendship. Still, I couldn’t imagine getting married without him there.

“Jeff! I’m getting married!”
“Oh my goodness Alexis! I’m so excited. You know I wouldn’t miss it for the world. When is it?”
“It’s going to be June 16th!”

It was at least 6 months before the wedding when I told him of the date. As it got closer and closer, I begin to feel weary about his attendance. We haven’t talked because I was busy planning a wedding and he was busy taking photos in New York. A week before the wedding I received a text message that read:

Alexis, You know I love you more than anything in the world. But I won’t be able to attend your wedding. I can’t believe this is happening, but work just won’t let me off. I am so sorry. I know I have to make it up to you.

I’m not the type of person to get sad when someone lets me down. I’m the type of person to get pissed and drop them from my life. I called my other good friend Alyssa to tell her of the news.

“Alyssa, he’s not coming. Why am I even surprised! He does this all the time. And you know he didn’t even ask for work off until now! Trying to play the victim when he’s known forever. I’m done. I can’t put up with it anymore”
“Alex, I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say. He should be here for this. He knows how much it means to you”

My wedding day finally came and went. He called, asked to see pictures, even sent a present in the mail, but it just isn’t enough for me. For as long as we were inseparable, he finally hurt me too much for me to overcome.

Peer Review

Brandon: The dialogue blog had an intriguing juxtaposition. The content of the conversation was untreatable to me as a reader, however the relationship between the two people was very clear. It was clear that the two people involved had developed their own way of understanding each other. I loved your clear voice in the persuasion blog. It really felt like you were talking to the reader and working to persuade them. Your writing really has a strong personality with it. I think that is one of your strengths and you should keep working within that voice.


Chelsee: When I first glanced at your dialogue blog I thought, where is the dialogue? But as I started to read it, I really loved that you captured the dialogue of body language instead of just speaking. The story really came to life with the actions of the people, and the talking was secondary. I loved this. Still, I would challenge yourself to writing a blog with more speaking, I personally didn’t like it, but it was a fun challenge. For your persuasion blog I thought you had really strong arguments. You were clear with your points and had facts to prove them!

Leena: I missed your writing this week! Look forward to reading whatever you have next!

The Art of Persuasion: Prompt 27

The art of persuasion can be mastered at a very young age. It is a skill that involves convincing someone to agree with your point of view. It comes in handy with advertising and arguments. However, over the years I have discovered the deceitful and harmful side of persuasion that may lead to the downfall of a person and society. Now I am attempting to help others understand the dark side of persuasion.

There are many reason one should not invest time in persuasion. Within this writing I will persuade you to never persuade again for the following three reason:
1.) it stunts creativity
2.) it’s unAmerican
3.) it requires a compromise of moral and ethical beliefs.


Creativity comes from ones ability to see the world through their own eyes. It allows individuals to make something out of nothing and turn something old into something new. Being creative takes work because of the continues elements of persuasion that surround the world that we live in. From advertising to scholarly essays, humans are constantly being exposed to the opinions of others. These opinions then manifest within our thought allowing subconscious alteration of creativity. Persuasion limits creativity which can potentially limit the capabilities of humans.

This stunting of creativity directly correlates with the stunting of free thought. Since the mind has already been limited in its creative exploration, humans have become unable to think for themselves. They are reliant on the thoughts and opinions of others and therefore can no longer think for themselves. Being in America where freedom is the greatest trend, persuasion is actually unAmerican. We should be supporting the freedom of thought, not forcing our society to be dependent on the thoughts of others.

If you have not yet decided that persuasion is wrong, there is one final point. Persuasion is morally and ethically wrong, as the persuader is directly putting forth effort in the manipulation of the persuaded. If one cannot understand that the act of manipulation is wrong they must realize what it feels like to be manipulated. It strips one from their own identity and causes them to conform for insincere reasons. It causes one to do things against their own will, all the while believing it was their choice. By teaching others to persuade, we are teaching others to manipulate which could be (and should be) against their moral code.

Overall, the art of persuasion is limiting the range of creativity, the American belief in freedom, and diminishing ethical responsibility. Clearly persuasion limits humanities ability to grow and people should now understand why persuasion is not the answer.

talking in circles makes me dizzy: Promt 25

“You need to let me know. Either you want me in your life or not. But I can promise you this much, I can’t maintain a relationship like this one” I told him, trying to be as clear, direct, and honest as possible.

“What do you mean? you know…” blahblahblah. Some nonsensical indirect bullshit spills out of his mouth.

“No, stop it. I’m done. You’ve been playing this back and forth with me for years. One minute you’re my friend and the next you wanna be something more. Five minutes later you‘re talking about peanuts acting like it never happened.”

“What are you talking about?” The frustration in his voice begins to swell. “I haven’t been doing anything!”

“You know, this is exactly it, exactly what I’m trying to get you to understand. You can’t call me up one minute expecting me to hop into bed with you and act like nothing ever happened the next. I have no problems just being friends with you but you can’t keep fucking with my head”

“So, your not going to sleep with me then?” he says half serious and half kidding.

“ARE YOU SERIOUS?! Have you even been listening to a single word that I’ve said!” I’ve nearly reached my breaking point by now.

“Are you really moving to Chicago?” His thoughts avoiding the situation. A typical tactic of his

“Wait. What?” Simple confusion is what I am left with, a place I often find myself in conversations with him.

“Let me go with you.” he has that look. The one that tricks me every time into thinking something romantic may happen.

“Where is this even coming from?”

He just gives me that look…again…that grin…that sparkle in his eye. “You’re eyes are so beautiful”

“What the fuck” I say almost exploding into laughter.

“Why are you laughing at me?”

Feeling defeated I sigh “You know. I just don’t understand you. Every time we talk, you just lead me in circles. This conversation is going nowhere. Why can’t you ever just be direct with me?”

And so this endless battle of communicating nothing and talking in circles finally ends. It doesn’t literally end, but it was over for me. We spend the rest of the evening as we always do. Him trying to get in bed with me, me explaining that he’s just my friend and it won’t happen until he starts being direct with me. An endless argument in which we both are never honest about who we are or how we feel. He’s great at distractions and confusions that lead me nowhere. Until finally I just stopped responding to his calls, text messages, face book chats, etc. Years and years of going no where, starting no where, and leading no where conversations that made our friendship. Finally done.

Bill T. Jones week is the best week: Prompt 22

It’s not often that people are given the chance to interact with someone who is great in their field of work. It’s even less often when that person looks you square in the face and gives you advice. Bill T. Jones is a world renounced choreographer who has made both commercial work and profound artistic work. He is one of (if not the) most sought after choreographers and still continues to grow as an artist. Last week, all the dance majors dubbed it Bill T. Jones week. His company just started an artist in residency program at Gammage so the entire week was filled with lectures, master classes, and everything Bill T. Jones. He is a very busy man so we spent most of the time interacting with various company members of his, but on Thursday he specifically came to speak to our department.

Everywhere I go I carry my journal with me in case a moment of inspiration or desperation occurs. Writing is an essential part of how I create and how I live. I love handwritten anything. Knowing that Bill T. Jones was coming to speak with us and has had such a successful career, I wanted to write down all the words of wisdom that may come out of his mouth. I wasn’t the only one with this thought, as the entire front row of dancers had pen and paper in hand. From the moment he walked in the room I was star struck. I wanted to know anything and everything that he had to offer. He has successfully accomplished my dream and I hoped to gain some great insight into making this happen for myself.

Bill T. Jones did nothing but impress me. He was narcissistic and humble all in one. He was bold and doubtful even through all of his success. Finally he was serious and humorous making for one captivating lecture. I have over two pages of insight that he gave me in that 30 minute lecture. At one point, while he was speaking he looked directly at me and said “I assume your taking notes for class..” still being star struck I shook my head and mumbled “no”. He took a step back, paused and said with surprise “wait, so you’re just taking notes for yourself?” Uncertain of what was to come next I muttered “yes”, he slowly walked away keeping his gaze directly at me and said “keep that pure spirit of investigation”. Although I am sure this moment is long since forgotten for him, this will forever be etched in my memory.

Peer Review

Hello new group!

Brandon: You have a very unique style of writing that makes my mind dart from one idea to the next. The flow of your writing is very straightforward and to the point as you write very distinctly and clearly. What is really interesting about this approach to writing is that is clear yet jagged. Each paragraph bounced from one thing to the next yet they all lied within the same topic. I think this is both a strength and a weakness. Sometimes I found myself a bit overwhelmed and had a hard time keeping up. But, it so clearly reflects your own personal experience allowing me to really feel apart of the confusion. I look forward to continue reading your writing.

Chelsee: For your first blog you had a very clear progression and flow. The story was easy to follow and the reader was able to grow with your experiences. Some of the sentences had an awkward flow with punctuation that may need revision. This is a personal weakness of mine, so it just stood out to me. I really enjoyed your second blog about working in the bookstore. I worked at the Starbucks there for awhile (a long while) so I am sure we has crossed paths. What I really appreciated about this blog is it was both informative and easy to read. You have a great sense of drawing the reader into your writing and making them feel apart of the experience! I look forward to keep reading your blog!


Leena: Your first blog about responsibility was able to distinctly follow the story as well as capture the emotional content of what was happening. Telling a story and adding emotion is difficult (especially without being overly emotional) but you accomplished this really well. The flow created the emotional confusion while the sentences told the story. For your second blog, I like how each little piece came together to create the overall tone of the place. You started with the building, moved to the people, and then did a mixture of both. The only feedback I feel I can give is to not be afraid to write more. Each of your blogs left me wanting just a little more and don't be afraid to go there! I look forward to continue reading your work!

Prompt 21: Drinking and Observing

There’s this little bar I frequently find myself a visitor of. It’s plopped right in the middle of a neighborhood, tucked away from the row of bars known as Mill Ave.
A night on the town.
An escape from the masses on Mill.
Or what the neighborhood residents may call it: an evening in.
From sweats shirts to high heels, dressing up or dressing down are both readily accepted.

It’s often hard to keep track of all that is happening because there is such a wide variety of people indulging the many qualities offered. It’s like a good date: low-key, inexpensive, and care-free. No one has to be anyone but themselves, and free flowing conversation is something you can always find. My mind wonders from here to there,

“I can’t even begin to understand why someone can do that and feel no remorse”
I overhear from a table near by.
“I’m not comfortable in my own home anymore and now I just avoid common space when she’s home. Who can yell at a person for something relevantly irrelevant and be ok with themselves.”
Three roommates, seemingly regular visitors and living within the neighborhood discuss a roommate left at home
“Listen, I don’t understand her either. None of us do. But we’ve never gotten along with her before so I can’t imagine….”

I start to drift away from the conversation, only to notice the scene the bar has become. It hasn’t been newly remodeled for at least 15 years. The building use to be an old house but
is now a bar. It’s easy to see a slow progression of decorations created the atmosphere it is today. It’s a brick house decorated with wooden doors and tables. Regular cat’s wonder through unafraid to approach anyone there. The cats have made a home of this place, and it seems as though many people have too.

The bar is filled on a typical Wednesday night with an eclectic mix of drinkers. All shapes, sizes, trends, ethnicities. Whoever it may be, they all seem to feel welcome in the low key environment that has evolved over time. Everyone is welcome and they all take advantage of it. The smokers sit outside and without hesitation they go through cigarettes at about a pack per minute.

The coy pond offers entertainment with rumors of drunkards letting their urine somehow miss the toilet and land within the pond. The outside urinal allows for men to skip going inside on those drunken nights. From what I’ve heard, it’s similar to peeing in the coy pond, except a wooden gate offers privacy and the servers won’t have to escort you out.

My ears catch someone else. These folks seem to frequently attend, but not nearly as much as the others
“Awww. You guys just really give me hope for my whole situation. It seems as though love is in the air!”

Before you know it, I am distracted by a man lifting his shirt, exposing a tattoo that covers his entire back. But his front is towards me and I just see his pasty belly flop forward.

Next thing I know, the waitress arrives with the check. My mind has seen a wide display of events in such a simplistic place. From one drink to the next, this place offers a slew of events unfolding before your eyes.

I am the type of person who would rather run 1,000 miles than take on any sort of responsibility. Responsibility leads to commitment and commitment makes me nauseous. To make it worse, I am the youngest of four and have had the opportunity to avoid responsibility for longer than most. I like the idea of waking up to the possibility of life unfolding in front of my eyes. What I have come to realize in my near 22 years of life, that is entirely impossible. I can’t live in a world where I don’t pay bills, don’t have to take care of myself, and can do as I please. I am responsible for more things than I like to admit and thinking about them makes me squirm.

For the past four years, my parents have, slowly but surely, been taking away their responsibilities of taking care of me so that I can take care of myself. To be quite honest, they didn’t have to try very hard because I fought for my independence. I started working when I started college, I got a scholarship to cover my tuition, and I took out loans to pay off the rest. But in the wake of my senior dance show (my final and biggest responsibility in college) I have come to realize I am truly responsible to make my life happen.

20,000 dollars in debt, no job, no place to go, and Ashbury Williams (my cat). The worst part of it all, I gave all of this responsibility to myself. My “wanting to take each day as it comes” has left me unprepared and nervous. I don’t think that I am experiencing anything more than what most seniors in college face, but it is more responsibility than I am ready to take on, or know how to take on for that matter.

I want to be a choreographer. I want to create great art and be apart of great art. That is my life’s responsibility to achieve, and I have not even the slightest clue how to make it happen. I feel as though a truly responsible person would have some sort of plan of action to make all of this happen, but, like I’ve said before, responsibility is not my strength. Being irresponsible has lead responsibility to crash in on me. I can only hope that my inability to be responsible will lead me to finding my way to something.

Here's a photo of my cat. He's just cute.