Apollo's descent

I saw god last night.

Not in the visage of a man like the prophets have seen him, but god none the less.

The moment was unexpected, there was no way I could have planned it, or ask for it. I wouldn't have even known to ask, let alone how to.

I am still in awe of the experience, but as I try to describe it, the words seem somehow trivial, and insignificant. And yet I have to tell you, or if you were there, remind you of the beauty of it.

I find it important and beautiful, among other adjectives, that moments like this are born out of menial tasks that are rather unimportant and tame.

what I mean by this is, just moments before I saw him, I was in a Barnes and Noble trying to buy a new CD that they did not have in stock. Since the CD that I wanted was not in stock at the Jordan landing store, I had decided that I would check the sugarhouse store.

I paid for the other items I had decided on and I walked out the door, and it was then that I was stopped by the most breathtaking sight I have seen in this valley or any other place for that matter.

The day had been one of typical summer rain, rank and hard, blanketing the earth and paving of the valley with a cool freshness. Some would have said the rain was a torrent, but I only saw beauty in the constant powerful flow of liquid crystals crashing to the earth and shattering into a thousand little pieces of the puddle, or shirt or windshield that it hit. I thought I was content with the melancholy of the clouds and the repetition of the beating rain, but in an instant as I walked from the Barnes and Noble the beauty of the rain was nothing but shallow drops in a bucket, as if from a garden hose.

I cant say that I would describe the doors to Barnes and noble as the tunnel that leads to the other side of the veil but as I walked through them I cannot imagine that it would feel much different from walk into the unknown world of paradise.

As I looked out to the west in the direction of the sun, the rain that had been pounding as I walked in to the store, had changed it was no longer a pounding curtain falling on the world, but a thin shear muting any form that might lay behind. It magnified, and intensified, yet diffused and softened the sunlight all at the same time. Everything was aglow, as if the Barnes and Noble, or the circuit City across the way, were ancient mythical temples illuminated by some magical power, and I was a humble observer who had stumbled into the place just in time to see the sacred rite performed.

the mist that was somewhere between a rain and a kiss of joy was aglow with an amber color almost to the paleness of fresh cut pine before it has been stained by the master woodworker, and the wall of it seemed to rise into the sky until it was met by the dark clouds, who once seemed like sullen friends, but now in contrast to the sunlight seemed like an enemy to fight against the vision, wishing to throw down their rains and to thwart the joy of it. Yet they could not hold back the light that was bellowing out with increased splendor.

My breath was stopped, I was( and still am) caught up, so filled with the smell of newness, the power and livelihood of it that it hurt. It hurt that I was not prepared for it and it hurt that I knew the moment could not last.

It was in that instant that I knew what I saw was god, I was seeing a power that was soo much greater than myself, so full and complete that I knew that by seeing it I could never be quite the same.

I was obliged, much to my fortune, to make my way to my car and drive east. As I left Jordan landing, and looked out toward Mount Olympus, a tear graced my eye. The light that had been shining so majestically through that veil of clouds had stretched its hand across the valley, embracing the Mountain, as Apollo reaching out to his unrequited love Daphne as she fled into the mountains to hide.

I find it grand that those who came before me in this valley should name the mountain most prominent in my vision Mount Olympus. The name, it seems, was give in foreshadow of the moment. Somehow knowing that Divinity was destined for the place.

As the arms of light made their way across the valley all the trees stood at attention, as if by duty, reflected the glory that was shining from behind me, contrasted by the clouds, dark and menacing, looming above the mountains, still misting, but more darkly ahead than those behind me.

As if to remind me of promises made centuries past, out of nowhere a rainbow shot up into the sky, Arching, stretching, almost pulling itself apart in the middle, and then exhorting a grand exhale to plant itself firmly and gracefully at the other side of the span.

as I continued, My course changed direction, and I could see as I headed north on I-15 that the clouds had changed from a curtain to the west, into a more clear but still misty formation of heavy and high flying clouds. The sun, less blocked from the clouds, now was like a bronze discus, perfectly shaped and falling fast toward its resting place in the western sky. I felt then a sadness knowing that my exalted vision was almost gone, sacred, but fleeting, as all moments like this are.

Then as suddenly as It had been introduced to me, I rounded a bend, and the light sank out of sight, partly hidden by horizon, and finally loosing its battle to the dark and threatening clouds it had been fighting back, and as I realized that my moment of paradise was over, the rain came again seemingly stronger and harder and louder than before. But could it be any other way, it seems the turmoil always is more bitter when the respite we once enjoyed is over and yet there was peace in the rain and in the remembrance of my moment of rest from it.

Hope Where None Occurs

The land for miles is covered with the
self proclaimed Salt of the earth.
A tear falls in despair, as I realize,
the Salt has choked the land.

Nothing can grow, nor would dare
for the pain of it.

As the land rolls by, no hope is in site ,
only the glare form the white dead floor.
Relief seems a distant fantasy, like the
Mirages floating the mountains on the distance

then in resilience a tree, an evergreen
suddenly appears in my view.
Surrounded by Salt, and death,
it stands proud, as a beacon to all.

then I see it, like Moses' Tabernacle,
it is held in place with Stakes, and Cords.

is it less powerfully now, less hopeful simply
because the root are left in a distant hill,
Body detached from Life giving source,
and it only anchor seems man made?

NO- this tree can be my only hope,
my only solace.
Someone worked to leave it for me,
and I am now employed to reach its shade.

I cannot believe that this edifice
is not meant for me,
that it is not a sign leading me to
a brighter land where life is in abundance,
where I can quench my longing, and live in
peace.

Sitting in my Cube at work, the sweet smell of the Generic cheap brand of coffee wafts over the divider into My nostrals- now I hate the bitter taste of strait black coffee but add a little Irish cream(virgin) and a nice dolap of sugar, and I'm in heaven.

This drives me nuts because I'm LDS and part of church doctrine is a code of health called the Word of Wisdom. Granted the word of wisdom is full of all kinds of practical things that are helpfull in living a healthy. For example, Smokeing is prohibited, alchohol is taboo, and addictive substances all together are a no-no. it also gives the Generic recomendation to eat your veggies, and dont gourd yourself on too much meat.

It really is the kind of thing that any wise mother would tell her kids. Don't get me wrong, I am all for wise choices in regard to health, but when it comes to breathing in that coffee, My tastebudds pirk up, the saliva starts to flow and I am stuck.

To drink the tar colored nector, or not to drink. I am tortured with this question all the time, and because I am a strong willed person, and because I belive the word of wisdom to be inspiration from On High, i choose not to drink, but that doesnt stopp my from enjoying cheap knock-offs
like Postum, or Mocha flavord Icecreams, or one of my favorites, Coffee flavored Jelly Belly's, Mmmmm.

I know what you all are thinking, poor Obviologist, you really have a hard life, and you're right, I dont know how I make it from day to day living without the one I love.
My only real comfort is that I just keep telling myself that its a choice between a few minutes of Heaven hear on earth or I can wait till the day when I can drink Celestialized coffee guilt free, and hey why not wait cause its just gonna be better on the other side(right)!

You Fill Up My Senses . . . . . .

I was sitting here thinking about all the kitschy sentimental things I could say about spring, and a lot comes to mind. Oh the birth of new life, the rejuvenate of old dead things, you know the typical. But what I really want is to say something original that hasn't been said about this refreshing time of year. Unfortunately I don't see much original, so I will just stick with the Usual.

I love walking across campus and smelling the daisy's or the Blossoms on whatever kind of tree that is in the photograph. Being able to breath DEEPLY, and feel all the Rushing of air that is soo cleansing and refreshing, without all the Freezing cold holding its Tight grip on my throat.

strangely, I love the smell of Exhaust from cars in the spring, as the weather warms up, and you can have your windows down there is a stronger, more pangent smell that tells me that summer is on its way, and will soon make me not so cold.

More than all of that, I love the rain, love to watch the rain, walk in it, and bask in that totally enveloping smell that drives me crazy with excitement. I have never felt more clean and more refreshed than after a powerful soaking rain, that leaves me chilled but happy as a puppy in a mud puddle.

in a world that is full of synthetic, generic reality, to be able to walk out into something that is new and fresh and completely natural, I just want to sing John Denver "You fill up my senses. . . . Like mountains in spring time, Like a walk in the Rain" John Denver always was a Musician after my own heart, and I cant think of a better line than that to hold My feelings on the season.

Would You Like Art with that?

Tonight I had the good fortune of being able to peruse a small art gallery in Taylorsville, UT that I didn't even know existed.

The number of pieces were few and they weren't signed. That didn't matter, however, I recognized the photographs immediately as being the work of Michael Kenna, one of my favorite black and white photographers. My wonder and bemusement only grew as I realized that any one of these prints would cost $3000 and up. How in the world did seven of his prints make it here to this little Gallery? I wasn't complaining. Any chance to see Kenna's work is a chance worth taking.

Then the lady behind the counter looked at me in my daze, and said "Sir, your nuggets are ready" and in an instant I was snapped back out of that mystical land that Kenna had Created on that black and white paper. It was then that I remembered that I was standing in the McDonald's inside Wal-Mart on Redwood Road and 5400 south and those great prints were only cheap knockoffs that they probably got at "Posters Are Us" somewhere in Middle America.

As I became aware of my surroundings, and picked up my nuggets, I was thinking to myself how absolutely American it was of McDonald's to try and disguise the fact that it is a fast food Restaurant. I must admit, for a McDonald's in a Wal-Mart, it is one of the nicer ones, but it is still a Wal-Mart McDonald's. No matter how nice the décor, you are still going to get cheap hamburgers and greasy french-fries. But just like anyone else McDonald's has its obligation to keep up appearances to keep people coming back. Honestly can you fault them for that?

The thing I felt was sad is that countless people will sit and eat beneath these masterpieces from one of the greatest fine artists this side if the millennium and they will have no idea who he is. Nor will they even care. Sadder still, if and when they do find out who he is, if they bothered to look at the prints at all, they will think, somewhere in the recesses of their mind "isn't he the McDonald's picture guy?"

Since I can't change the fact that many people will not appreciate fine art, and photography, and since I still like cheap hamburgers and greasy fries, I will see you around my new favorite art gallery in Taylorsville.

Educational McCarthyism

People love having it their way; just ask the fast food industry. Burger King will tell you that their business is based on fast service, and having it your way. In fact that is their slogan. And is there anything wrong with that? Well, when you are talking about Whoppers and Diet Coke, no there is absolutely nothing wrong.

However, in our wonderful world, the truth remains that there are certain things that if we get it our way, we could end up hurt, emotionally unstable, or just plain stupefied. In example, speeding is something we all do. That is just a fact. If we are not careful, and choose to drive like we own the world then we could have the Super Dells of the world follow us and flash a gun in our faces to get us to slow down, we could get pulled over and have to face hefty fines, or worse, we could end up dead or in a coma.

The danger of having our own way is real, and yet in one of the most important parts of our life, our education, we feel that we should be able to have it quick easy and our own way.

Recently the Globe (slccglobelink.com )printed an article about Ratemyprofessors.com, a website that lets students tell all about the best and worst of their campus Professors. Which on the surface sounds absolutely wonderful, I mean think about it, now you can let everyone know that your Psych. teacher is the worst teacher at SLCC because of they way he/she grades, or that so-and-so's lectures are like listening to your cousin Billy's flatulation after chilly night at the family reunion. Whatever it is people will now know about it, and even better, you can find out what teachers are softies, and who grades easier than others. And the big one, the one that in this state is probably number one on the list of things to look at- are they conservative, or liberal? Do they have my viewpoint on things?

In theory all this sounds like it is a win-win situation for all involved, the students get a teacher they like, and the teachers get students that want to be there.

How ridiculous can you get? First on my list of why I hate this idea of rating your teachers is this. You all came here, and are paying good money to earn a liberal (oh no not that liberal word) education. That means to me that you are going to be presented with challenges of all sorts, including but not limited to dealing with teachers that are not easy graders, dealing with long, boring classes that you are not interested in, being presented with new ideas (God forbid) that may conflict with previously held assumptions and religious ideas, actually having to do homework and read the book, and the list could go on.

My point is, we are here to be presented with challenges, and new ideas (especially new ideas), and we should learn how to deal with those things, not how to avoid them. I can guarantee that when you are out in the work place there is going to be a boss that you are going to disagree with, but you won't have a website to Rate your bosses. The idea would be absolutely ridiculous in any professional industry, so why should it be okay here in a place were we should be learning how to make it in a professional industry.

The next reason on my list is the idea of students rating their teachers is honestly an abomination. Both on this online website to rate teachers and the student review that happen on a regular basis here at SLCC. We are not teachers, we have no idea the real work that goes into it, and who are we to decide what is best for us in regard to an educational stand point, this is something that should be done by peers, not by subordinates.

In a recent conversation with an adjunct professor, he told me his feelings about the student review. He said that he would ask his students to put down on the review that he requires bribes for good grades. He doesn't really, but he wanted to see if the department head even bothered to read the reports from the students. He never has had a response back from any of his direct superiors. Why aren't these reviews done by peers who can give valid professional advice is beyond me, but hey I am just the student.

One last thing that I want to bring up is, what I feel the real danger of rating teachers.I recently read a newspaper report, but in the article it discussed a watchdog in Berkley California that will pay students $100 to "expose" their teachers that are teaching liberal ideas in the classroom, to "warn" students about what is being taught, and blacklist teachers who have differing viewpoints from that of the watchdog group. This I think is the grossest of all crimes against the minds of America's college age students. I am saddened and disgusted at the idea that anyone would buy into this sort of corrupt and immoral affront to the pursuit of knowledge.

As I have stated before we are here to be exposed to new ideas and be able to decide for ourselves which are right and which are wrong. We can't be afraid to be wrong. We can't be afraid that if we hear another's point of view that this will somehow destroy your belief system or that we will somehow be irreparably changed. This is simply not the case. In fact we, as people, should make it our single duty to learn all that we can, to be informed and to Most of all know how we stand on an issue.

By allowing ourselves to believe that we will somehow get a better education by avoiding difficult tasks, going for the easy A and running from professors who may have a different opinion than yourselves you have put yourself in a precarious situation in deed.

(this was a rescent submission for my colomn at Salt Lake Community College newpaper the Globe)

Perspective! Everything!

I love new place, the magic of finding, and seeing something new, something I have never seen before. I especially love seeing something I have never seen before in something that I have seen a million times before.

Humans have a fabulous way of letting ourselves miss out on really seeing what we see. I think that is why I love Photography. I can show the world what they cant or wont take the time to see.

the other day I had the opportunity to get lost in an area of the city I thought I knew well, and I ended up Underneath and in the middle of what is called the Spaghetti Bowl section of I15 in Salt Lake. I had driven past this little spot a billion time. It appeared to be a standard industrial area that would hold little interest for me, but as I drive my car into the little alcove under the freeway, it was like a new universe opened up.

If you have never felt that feeling, start looking- maybe stare at a wall that you have looked at a million times. Notice the details, how the paint texture stands out, how it bubbles here and there, how its really is an Eggshell color, instead of white.

Look at the buildings you pass as you are driving to work, you will see things jump out at you, maybe it would even be worth it to take the buss so you CAN look as you ride.

For me, as I spent my time exploring my new found world of Mudd and steel, I was at first a little nervous, I didn't know if this was private property- it wasn't fenced, and it wasn't posted, though, you never know if they may have a sign up somewhere that is just hidden in the back so that they can say there was one up. As I explored though, I was caught up by the pattern the deep, rich colors of Steel Blue, and the Bastard Amber colored rust that covered the stacked and bound edifices to industry and creation.

As I saw the beautifully colors, and the grand sunset over the freeway, I felt a peace that you don't think of coming in the middle of the noise freeway, and Dirty industrial park. And all of that came from a new way of seeing and a change in Perspective.