As my knitting-addiction continues to eat me alive, I am beginning a new project, this one for my father. I don't want him to feel left out, but he isn't much of a wearer of the scarves, so I am venturing into the world of knitting socks.

I am also pondering a second project to keep the drudgery of one project from getting to me. My consideration is for this, which is supposedly a little easier than what I really, really want to knit, a short-sleeved wrap cardigan. But, I want a little more practice before I attempt what I really, really want to knit. Plus, one cannot have too many cardigans.

Wednesday, Apr. 13, 2005 - 12:50 p.m.

I wish I could say I am never bored, but I have to say that right now, I am bored. I don't want to read. I don't want to knit. I don't want to write. Unfortunately, at times like this I become hypnotized against my will by the pretty colors of the internet blogging world.

Need...to pry...myself...away.

Saturday, Apr. 09, 2005 - 3:41 p.m.

After taking yet another blogging sabbatical, I have returned to find that quite a few internet users have chanced upon this diary by searching via Google (never will I use the supposed verb 'googling') for nonfiction mfa programs. Well, this entry is for you.

My six month journey into the world of mfa writing programs has been quite enlightening and has given me access to a fair amount of down and dirty information. For example, if you are in the nonfiction writing world, you should probably know that for awhile now the University of Montana has been held in high esteem by whatever powers that be. First, let it be known that UofMT did not accept me, but I am not as bitter as one might expect. If you are applying to UofMT, you should know that its mfa program is going through some changes, mainly attempting to reconfigure itself into an ivy league powerhouse of a program. In that vein, it is not as interested in applicants who do not come from well known universities or who come from the state whose name it bears.

I have to admit, in all fairness, that I have heard this from very reliable sources. But, what I can tell you first hand is that those who were successful teachers and students at UofMT are, for the most part, no longer there. If you are accepted to UofMT, cheers, but I have doubts that it will maintain its quality program in the face of its growing ego.

Also, word on the street is that Columbia University's nonfiction mfa program is taking cues from its journalism program, which is top rate. If I were more interested in the type of nonfiction that the most excellent Susan Orlean writes, I would set my sights on Columbia. Also, you cannot really beat being in the middle of the publishing capital of the US. Though, expect the website for the Columbia School of Arts to be a bit difficult to navigate and the application to require more writing samples. And, while I found the staff there very helpful, I recieved two notifications of my waitlist status, which I found disheartening.

Then, of course, there is always the nonfiction mfa program at the University of Iowa, the top writing program in the nation, supposedly. Go ahead and apply, I did; just don't expect to be accepted. I know plenty of excellent writers who have applied to UofIowa, and none have been accepted. Maybe UofIowa doesn't truly exist at all. That scenario does sound a bit like something Dave Eggers might try to pull off.

Now my allegiance is at the University of Idaho. It sounds foolish on my part, but I do believe it has the best growing nonfiction mfa program at this time. Many of the successful writers from UofMT are at UofID now.

To those of you who are looking for nonfiction mfa programs and have questions from a person that has made it through that icky application process, feel free to email me by going to the 'say what?' link above. I promise I am much more coherent via email.

Saturday, Apr. 02, 2005 - 5:10 p.m.

Not that anyone cares (Does it really pay to be so self-depracating? Really, I care, shouldn't that be enough for me? How self-centered am I, really?) but Girl With a Pearl Earring is not a movie worth watching. I re-read the book a couple times a year, and this time I decided I had the guts to watch the movie.

What was so wonderous about the book, besides that Tracy Chevalier wrote it, was that every scene, every word, every action was subtle. The themes of possession, attraction, and vision were artfully conveyed through the position of the scenes and characters of the book itself. Little is overtly stated. I am not sure why, but this made me, as a reader, feel more engulfed. It felt more life-like in that everyday life takes place as our powerful feelings and thoughts pull us through the ordinary.

About the only compelling part of the whole movie was Colin Firth, and even he was hidden under the archetype of the dishevled artist. I doubt I would have followed the plot had I not been familiar with the book. Also, the book pivots around the art of Johannes Vermeer. Reading of his art in the preliminary stages is possible because one only has to imagine what those early outlines of his masterpieces might look like. In the movie, however, we see what one believes to be the beginnings of his paintings, which did nothing but disappoint me. Vermeer's work is so beautiful, the movie's mimics of his paintings were just short of horrific shadows.

Perhaps the film was a noble effort, and it does have its moments, mostly of eroticallly charged beauty, but it lost the essence of the book from the very beginning, when it cut out Vermeer and the main character's (the subject of the painting Girl With a Pearl Earring) meeting, which sets up the visionary tension between the two.

This movie, along with the sad film adaption of Vanity Fair has caused me to lose my faith in movie adaptions that are not written by Charlie Kaufman. Tonight I will heal my wounded sensibility with the first season of Arrested Development.

Saturday, Apr. 02, 2005 - 12:40 a.m.

My patience lately has either been prolonged or blunt. It has taken all my patience to change the general look of my blog. Thus, this post must suffice for now.

It is late here, but blue skies hang over Vatican City. By the time I wake up to (with any hope) a blue sky, the only Pope to have been Pope in my short, short lifetime will most likely have passed.

Despite my jokes that perhaps he's simply sick of the whole ruckus of being the religious leader of the Catholic world and has opted to watch Seinfeld re-runs and eat Oreos, the death of the Pope has me considering things like religion, faith, hope, death, spirituality...all that. My mentor would remind that the yearning for something greater than our material universe comes at the intersections of pain, sex, and death, when we our most vulnerable. So, it is only natural to wonder at the death of a man who lead that faith to which people turned when their lives were most raw. What does a man such as this do, see, think upon his death, really? What does a man who exists within an authority of power that he shares with men throughout centuries of history think upon meeting the entry into timelessness?

I imagine he would tell us that he thought just what we too will think...

I don't know what that might be, though I have my hopes. One thing's for sure, I hope I am welcomed into timelessness wearing fabulous jewelry.

Saturday, Mar. 19, 2005 - 11:09 p.m.

If you are surprised that it has been awhile since I have written, you do not usually visit my blog. Welcome.

Even now, I am not up to writing too much. Let's just say I am uber-lazy lately. Or, I have been busy with other stuff.

This Monday my friend and I leave to visit University of Idaho, my future home and place of study. The roads might be hell to drive. It is March, and the powers that be have decided to dust the new crocuses and daffodils with dust. Life sucks for everybody and everything sometimes.

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