Thursday, November 24, 2011

just celebrating our heritage...that's all.

happy thanksgiving.

i'm overwhelmed with how much i have to be grateful for.
seriously. i'm so undeserving...

and i'm so thankful for all of you.
thank you for reading.




eh-hem.
oh right, and the warwick family recently discovered that one of our great great aunts...
(or something like that)
was kidnapped by navajo indians way back in the day,
but ended up marrying the chief and were very happy together.
(cute story, right?)

and ever since then...we've felt a sense of belonging
father's side: hard-core puritan pilgrims.
mom's side: mormon pioneers with a married-in native american heritage.
yup, it's the blood in our veins.

so, we built a tepee.

happy turkey day loves.

Friday, November 18, 2011

maybe it's time.



did you ever love someone so much that you can't explain?
when you're with them,
it's like thunder keeps rolling through your brain...
you can feel it in the depth of your soul.
but you still can't bring yourself to say it...

maybe it's time.


been obsessing over this all week.

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

sometimes i can't sleep.

...so i lay here.
and i think.

i recently read somewhere,
that if your dreams don't scare you. they aren't big enough.

if that's true. then i think i'm good.
because my dreams scare the hell out of me.

Saturday, November 5, 2011

hello. my name is kristen. and i'm a theatrophobic.

it seems odd, i know.

but in my twenty-third year of life i seem to have developed a phobia.

and no. not a phobia like normal people. you know, of heights or giant spiders. or of the color red (yeah, real thing. ereuthophobia. and no, that really isn't 'normal' but still...)

nothing ordinary for me.

instead, i have developed a fear of movie theaters. i know, right?

you think i am joking.

but wait.

let me go back.

back to the first time my theatrophobia kicked in. it was late july/early august of this year. i was sitting in the cinemark orem movie theater. seeing rise of the planet of the apes (which i don't highly recommend. see it, don't see. i don't think it will really affect your life either way--other than a complete loss of two valuable hours. but whatev.)

everything started normal.

theater was packed--sold out. probably opening weekend or something.

previews came and went. and the apes appeared (highly educational evening--because i also learned that apes make me super uncomfortable) and i started thinking, "sooooo....i am really going to spend the next two hours watching this odd looking man-monkey grow up and become the leader of an ape revolution?"

james franco, you sexy idiot.

and then the moment hit me.

i gasped for breath.

and not at franco's good looks or the fact that the ape could-in-fact speak. (super believable--by the way). but at absolutely nothing at all. yes, i was struggling for air...for no reason that i could think of.

after a moment of collecting myself. refusing to panic. i took a few deep breaths and relaxed back into my seat.

odd, i thought to myself.

i've never been claustrophobic. i don't smoke. and i've never once used an inhaler.

oh well--i figured. a little glitch in the system.

a few minutes passed. and suddenly another urge to gasp for air.

what on earth? i could not figure out what was going on.

the rest of the movie went on this way--only it became fairly constant. rather than having a few minutes of normal breathing, i was just flat out struggling. for the first time in my life, getting air in and out of my lungs was a mental chore. and a focus of survival (okay, slightly dramatic. but it was an intense moment of my life)

we left the theater and went on with evening (yes, this was a date. thank heavens i didn't collapse in the movie theater, right?)

some yogurt and a game or two later and i realized that i had completely forgotten about my struggle for oxygen during planet of the apes. then again, maybe it was caesar the ape i was truly trying to forget about.

i shrugged it off. convincing myself it was a once-ever type thing.

a week or two passed. and an opportunity for another movie came around. and i went--not even remembering the experience i had last time around.

and sure enough. it was in fact--not the apes or james franco's charm that left my body unable to inhale and exhale.

this happened again.

and again.

fine. simply fine. previews come and previews go. movies begin. and my theatrophobia kicks right on in.

it has reached a point now where i pretty much avoid theaters all together. and if i can't, i take a bottle of water, an inhaler, a brown paper bag, and a bag of swedish fish.

okay, not really.

but i do take swedish fish. cause they are my fave-fave.

and then...cross my fingers and hope for the best. my theatrophobia will dictate the rest. and unfortunately, it doesn't look like we will be curing this problem anytime soon. according to my research, theatrophobia is often caused by traumatic experiences in your early childhood.

hm.

i'm wondering if my near-death collision with the gingerbread-man during my opening performance as a taffy in the california nutcracker had anything to do with this....packed theater, ruffles itching at my neck, plastic ginger bread swarming around, blinding lights...a boom...and then darkness.

dark times, indeed.

and according to google, treatments for a phobia like mine would include counseling, hypnotherapy, psychotherapy and neuro-linguistic programming.

and being that i don't really believe in counseling, refuse to take part of any sort of hypnosis, would rather not have some stranger pry into my psyche and have no idea what the h. neuro-linguistic programming is...

i think it's here to stay.


yes. my name is kristen. i am twenty-three years old. and i am a theatrophobic.


and folks, caesar is home.




and lastly, i wanted to share this incredibly flattering and so-well-written blog post from a face with a name.



Thursday, November 3, 2011

you say you want a revolution.

lately i have been contemplating a heavy amount on what defines greatness.

you see, i am passionate person.

the kind of person that finds happiness in a hard days work. especially when that work is channeled towards something i can really believe in. something i can grab up and run with. full force.

i have been surrounded my whole life by driven individuals that have consistently worked their a’s off--in every aspect of life. wanting to make a change. hoping to leave some sort of mark. something to leave behind. something for this world to remember.

it was born a part of me. and whatever wasn’t--was then tattooed to my wrist to never escape my main focus (metaphorically. of course. but if i did have a tattoo--it would be on my wrist. yes, i have it planned out for that day when i am forced to stain my skin with permanent ink)

why? for starters, i have a father that has never rested a day in his life. almost to a point of obsession.

to an excess amount where you just want to yell at him and tell him to sit down. just sit for two full seconds.

one-mississippi. two-miss-iss-ippi.

nope, he won't last.

and in addition to that madness, i have a mother that never stops thinking of others. their needs. and how she can further serve them.

a true ray of sunshine upon this earth.

yes, she is.

work came before play. (which--let me tell you--seriously blew when it came to disney’s ‘one saturday morning’. i mean, we had from seven until ten to enjoy our one weekly block of pretend ‘cable’--my parents weren’t huge tv people back then...we had a grand total of about ten and a half channels--and unless we got up at six a.m. to complete the chores by seven or eight, we didn’t stand a fighting chance of catching those chip and dale rescue rangers.)

but that has been my life.

and truly, i got over the cartoon thing.

taught by the best of the best. i know what it is to work hard.

and as much as i believe in it, i am not naive to the fact that a strong work ethic doesn't always cut it. sure, it does a hell of a lot. and of course--it is the first key ingredient to getting somewhere in this heavily panting, exasperated world.

ravenous for talent.

drooling over the desire of the coveted american dream.

and obviously, those who work their butts off are already off to a much better start than those who can't seem to put two and two together.

work is key.

absolutely vital but not everything. i wish it was, but the fact of the matter is--i've seen hard work crash and burn. and i've seen it fail and fail hard.

so, what it is it?

what is the secret kick-punch-duo that leads to success? what is the truth that only a great few ever truly understand?

how can greatness be achieved?

much of my reading over the last couple of weeks has consisted of articles related to steve jobs. to his life. tributes to his death. overviews of him as a business man. praises to him as a father.

and to the irreplaceable, inescapable mark that he has left upon his departure from the world.

one article--in particular--quickly caught and kept my attention.

this new york times author focused on what exactly made jobs different from the other successes of his time.

speaking of how he wasn't 'conventionally smart' but was in-fact a genius. (see full article here)

describing that "his imaginative leaps were instinctive, unexpected, and at times magical. they were sparked by intuition, not analytic rigor."

i like that. yeah?

imaginative. intuitive. and magical.

three words that catch my attention with their very existence.

are these the brilliant, wise-beyond-their-years, kick-a factors that separated jobs from other brilliance of this time?

i must know.

i mean, is there really anyone out there that is not intrigued by the life and story of our friend mr. jobs? is there anyone out there that can sit back at the mention of his name and callously disregard the topic with a 'meh'?

if such an individual exists--i really have nothing to say to you.

for the rest of us, let’s really think about this.

the author of this article describes this unique style as an, “ability to apply creativity and aesthetic sensibilities to a challenge.”

when reading this, i immediately thought of another inspiration of mine. another change that the world didn’t see coming and couldn’t get enough of.

the beatles.

a 1960’s band with a hell of a lot of heart. consisting of four extremely talented musicians. who--whether they initially intended to or not--ended up changing the world.

how?

by breaking down barriers and restrictions of recording labels and artist protocol. finding freedom in music. in rock n’ roll. that had never before been experienced. changing the face of pop culture. and therefore, changing the face of society as a whole.

revolutionary. yes, revolutionary would be an adequate word.

their recordings, described by a reporter for ‘the telegraph’ as “the holy grail, the very font of pop culture, when four individuals experienced a kind of collective accelerated musical growth that untapped all the latent potential of pop music...a voyage of wild discovery into melody, harmony, lyricism, rythm, and production...”

agreed. 100%.

i grew up listening to the beatles. they’re my go-to every time i have a bad day. my song that i can always sing along to. my comfort when i just need something familiar, something that feels like home (that--and entire full house gang of course.)

they’re the foundation of music as many of our generation know it.

so where is the similarity here? where are the common themes? where exactly was that button of ‘greatness’ pushed?

let me push it. pleassssse.

here's how i see it. see, i know music. i know musicians. not one personally but i’ve known and dated many of them--probably too many. trust me.

i know grunge. i know classic rock. country. pop. indie. whatever, you name it. and i know that the beatles are not necessarily looked at as some perfectly talented, flawless group that could not be surpassed.

and i agree. there are obviously people out there who--by all technical reasoning--would have been deemed better musicians.

john and paul weren’t necessarily the best songwriters of all time. no, there is really no way to measure that (though i would argue that they just may have been).

and georgey-boy's technical proficiency was probably not perfect.

but that’s just it. because it’s not about being that one perfectly trained mind. it’s not just about being the guy that can sit down at the guitar and play anything under the crazy blue sky. that's fun and all. but isn't going to make the cut between good and great.

so what is missing? what is it that jobs and the beatles both had?

my answer: magic.

the magic created by all that heart and all that imagination.

every ounce of soul that went into each individual note they played. and each brilliant stroke of creativity that went into forming the number one brand in the world.

both connecting with their audiences in revolutionary ways. both--not letting themselves fear failure.

that's where the magic is found.

technically. sure. my boy george could have been beat out by some other guitarist. mathematically, sure bill gates could probably crunch out some high profile numbers at a more rapid rate than jobs ever could.

but emotionally. not a chance.

that deadly mix of talent and heart. a little bit of luck. an undeniable magic. and here we are today. both--still very much alive in all of our hearts.

still influencing the world and its progression.

jobs believed in the power of intuition. the need for imagination, and the ability think creatively.

and he went with it.

trusting in his senses. having confidence in his ideas--even if they had yet to make complete sense. eventually, creating a world that we would have never understood ten years ago.

so, i now ask you again. what defines greatness?


a little bit of magic. some good ol’ fashion intuition. and a great deal of creativity.

yeah?


thank you mr. jobs. and thank you beatles for this song.






oh, and if you’d like a little preview into another up-and-coming brilliance of our time. click here to check out garrett gee.

trust me. it’s impressive.