The Ascot Manners

The Lie

2011-10-15T03:01:00.000-07:00

Go, Soul, the body's guest,
Upon a thankless errand;
Fear not to touch the best;
The truth shall be thy warrant:
Go, since I needs must die,
And give the world the lie.

Say to the court, it glows
And shines like rotten wood;
Say to the church, it shows
What's good, and doth no good:
If church and court reply,
Then give them both the lie.

Tell potentates, they live
Acting by others' action;
Not loved unless they give,
Not strong but by a faction.
If potentates reply,
Give potentates the lie.

Tell men of high condition,
That manage the estate,
Their purpose is ambition,
Their practice only hate:
And if they once reply,
Then give them all the lie.

Tell them that brave it most,
They beg for more by spending,
Who, in their greatest cost,
Seek nothing but commending.
And if they make reply,
Then give them all the lie.

Tell zeal it wants devotion;
Tell love it is but lust;
Tell time it metes but motion;
Tell flesh it is but dust:
And wish them not reply,
For thou must give the lie.

Tell age it daily wasteth;
Tell honour how it alters;
Tell beauty how she blasteth;
Tell favour how it falters:
And as they shall reply,
Give every one the lie.

Tell wit how much it wrangles
In tickle points of niceness;
Tell wisdom she entangles
Herself in overwiseness:
And when they do reply,
Straight give them both the lie.

Tell physic of her boldness;
Tell skill it is pretension;
Tell charity of coldness;
Tell law it is contention:
And as they do reply,
So give them still the lie.

Tell fortune of her blindness;
Tell nature of decay;
Tell friendship of unkindness;
Tell justice of delay:
And if they will reply,
Then give them all the lie.

Tell arts they have no soundness,
But vary by esteeming;
Tell schools they want profoundness,
And stand too much on seeming:
If arts and schools reply,
Give arts and schools the lie.

Tell faith it's fled the city;
Tell how the country erreth;
Tell manhood shakes off pity
And virtue least preferreth:
And if they do reply,
Spare not to give the lie.

So when thou hast, as I
Commanded thee, done blabbing--
Although to give the lie
Deserves no less than stabbing--
Stab at thee he that will,
No stab the soul can kill.

-Sir Walter Raleigh, 1608

Jerusalem

2011-07-18T16:49:00.000-07:00

From the soundtrack to my Dad's favorite movie, "Chariots of Fire." I find it appropriate to post this day as he turns 67 years old.

Happy Birthday Dad!

You'll note that the lyrics are actually taken from the poem at right, originally penned as a preface to Milton by William Blake nearly 200 years ago.

Now set to music, it is a divine and hymn-like song enjoyed by all of Great Britain ... and Anglophiles everywhere like myself!

(I should also mention that throngs of spectators often sing this anthem at rugby union matches in England!!!)

Ode to Father

2011-07-18T16:31:00.000-07:00

Paragon of perfection, father dear?
Molded from outlands, hewn from rock cities:
The sinewy heart must take without fear
No lonely nor lowly proximities
To build from not, a sure nobility
And spirit of motivation, ripe life
O'erflowing in limitless, fruited trees;
Is not this the path to eternity
To bear 'midst the raspings of mortal strife
For the pinnacle yet extol the breeze?

Beneath The Cloisters

2010-11-14T13:17:00.000-08:00

Today I saw a sight
More exquisite than Man-hattan,
A gift of time
And place
And quiet
And God:

There were four bands of Nature
Set before me in dual dimension,
Distinct in depth
Yet same in stratification:

A coarse and weathered stone wall
Not twenty feet away;

A scarified river face,
Changing texture for current and breeze;

A mantle of tree-covered cliffs
Thick in fall plumage;

And crowning all these,
The sky
In soft hazy blue
Stretched wide in swaths
Of cream-spread clouds.

Four horizons
Met in the moment,
Created a layered quartet
Of balance and peace,
One organic architecture
That only I did see.

A poem from New York ...

2010-07-14T18:16:00.000-07:00

A few lines composed upon sketching the dingy view from my chair and table in the basement laundry while waiting for my shirts to dry on the evening of 14 July, 2010

(20 Dongan Place, New York, New York)

I can see the sweat
In the Gold Bond walls
Shored thick in Mexican labor;
Great stacks of yellow pound cake
Sloppily set in greasy guilt revealed!

Science of Soul

2010-05-14T15:13:00.000-07:00

Amidst the realms
of mortal soul,
betwixt the helms
of lust and goal,

Burns bright a flame,
unquench'd, undimm'd:
an essence tame,
of purity limn'd.

And e'en the least
of mankind made,
after the beast
or lost and stray'd,

May feel the flame,
in sating sign,
of Him whose name
doth fore'er shine.

For by burn'd breast,
in witness giv'n,
the mind is blest
of God in heav'n,

To know and see
with untrain'd eye,
the breadth of science,
the width of why.

. . . .

scientiaspirituanimo

Tonight Your Face

2010-02-22T02:52:00.000-08:00

Tonight your face
looking at mine
like a glimpse of moonlight
shone through the trees
of my hardened soul;

And by your grace
in nick of time,
though fears posed to affright,
pure love did cease
painful years of dole;

So shall your place
once crossed the line
giv’n last of mortal might
with God increase,
our eternal goal.

… amor vincit omnia …

Another favorite poem

2010-01-28T22:19:00.000-08:00

Kubla Khan
or, A Vision in a Dream: A Fragment

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree :
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man

Down to a sunless sea.

So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round :
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree ;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

But oh ! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover !
A savage place ! as holy and enchanted
As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon-lover !
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced :
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail :
And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean :
And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war !

The shadow of the dome of pleasure
Floated midway on the waves ;
Where was heard the mingled measure
From the fountain and the caves.

It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice !

A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw :
It was an Abyssinian maid,
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within me
Her symphony and song,
To such a deep delight 'twould win me,

That with music loud and long,
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome ! those caves of ice !
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware ! Beware !
His flashing eyes, his floating hair !
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.

-Samuel Taylor Coleridge

The Daily Poetry Club

2009-10-12T00:04:00.000-07:00

A few of my fellow BYU students recently created a website entitled, "The Daily Poetry Club."

It's pretty entertaining to be sure with a new topic posted daily for all to submit a relevant poem in reply... Here's the last poem I submitted in response to the "10/3/09: Freebie!" post:

Times tables and chairs and glasses
(or, The Legend of Daniel Sanford)

The memory of a math class
still persists
when time was shattered
when dreams were broken
and finally
pride was swept under
the table and chairs
(remember?)
(third grade?)
(how did we fit?)
(they were so low!)

If anything
any moment
meant anything at all
it was the timed tests
that rode the nerves
that made you squirm
in your tiny plastic seat
flexing and stressing
like a tinker toy
and for what?
for glory or fear?

No one cares now
that the sands have accumulated
and yet we always did
maybe not as much
as Daniel Sanford
that loony ninja nerd
so stressed
with his image
of unfounded genius
(because scrawniness
brings paradigm busting)

He just missed it
one problem
one little digit
no longer than your finger
barely
that was all
but something inside
exploded outward
in a mad fury
of ninja gaiden craziness
never seen off the playground

And so came the end
of a cheap pair of glasses
too thick
for a little master anyway
wrenched off his head
a two-handed job
and snapped
with a yell
and then came the teacher
and the stares
at the seppuku of Daniel Sanford

We were too young
too small to know
what had really happened
what had paused us
what he did
the broken glasses
the shame
and embarrassment
of a warrior
exposed
and brought to tears

. . .

So time passes
and our glasses
fill
or spill
or fade away
but we see
the light clearer
hindsight ever nearer
with each
and every
legendary day

Epiphaneia

2009-09-30T23:30:00.000-07:00

No wiser words,
Have e'er been said,
Than those by Him,
Who once was dead;

Yet rose again,
Alive, anew,
The Word of life,
The Gospel true.

Another Sunday Poem

2009-08-07T14:13:00.000-07:00

Here's another poem that I wrote a couple Sundays ago. It's a bit different, but I like it.

In June

In June, when sun comes down,
and things actually g(r)o(w) right,
I like to watch the world around me,
a little "intimation of immortality."

People do as they will without worry:
School's out, and so is responsibility.
Everything is easy;
Freedom fills our eyes.
The outside is better than the inside,
for once,
if not for often or ever.

Trying is burdensome;
Real worries comfortably flee;
For what is the sun,
but the bringer of light,
the essence of warmth,
and the softener of sensitivity?

All this for good is taken,
and while it may be so,
yet seasons change,
and sun hides away.

Overcast days bring despair,
Longing and wishing,
Hoping,
for opportunities
to give up cares once more...

Primitive is our ignorance,
our circular psyche,
our limbo.

Though days of brightness
and darkness abound,
and seesaw us up and down,
nevertheless,
sun never ceases:
the light is found in the finding.

In the mood...

2009-07-04T23:41:00.000-07:00

Since I am on a roll, posting poems like they're going out of style, I figured that I might as well share one more. I originally composed this poem while in the LDS Missionary Training Center in 2003. I must offer a forewarning, however, to any who wishes to read on... this one's a bit different!

The Pleas-er Key-er

A stretched band of pearls, more white, less black;
glimmering, shimmering with glossy glaze glow.
The shiny smooth slicks at rest level lay;
a test for any best jester’s festering folly.

Who it allows or tries surely sees
these pleading, pleasing keys freeze and unlock doors,
scores of jump, trip, fly: Higher, High, Highest.

Here they are (were/will be) to break bleak stares’ silents;
10 marching soldiers, heavy feet falling boulders old orders filling,
called to attention on the spiffy spring-board platforms: ready
to start the game of the skip-hop bop stop tumbling flinging
like the singing of gymnasts’ flurry whirling dervish.

And then;
Snapped Nerves!
pulsing plunging pistons to the floor
of black and white marble tiles descending and bending;
the tricky tune pealed revealed by hot-potato palms,
a skitter-skat carnival tap like Kelly’s nimbles
slap the please! more! melodies out of the pleas dead gone.

Such sing and song dance trance of spazzy jazz romance
(from the clinking Chico pointers piercing people’s persons)
skis carving cutting the crisp, slippy slope still,
just missing, some kissing the sharp shark rocks, flats;
a spickle-spackle tackle spilling ‘Kovsky collide-o-scope
of Gehry’s wilting waves braves the paving road of rhyme
keeping time interred, fossil bones and stones and watches
tick notes not seen written on his mind forever.

The relays plays on a click beetle banter brocade
of olden golden melodies molten inspired never tired;
yet the carrier’s charisma cuts canst last,
past hours piled towers over waning wands’ wishes.

Ever bold, ever brilliant, bright, bristling warm,
was the storm (now subsided) of the pride praised picture song.

So gone is the giver grower of this glamorous glimmer?
Yes; retired the player his players the sound.

But;
Will the ever end-thusiasm?

ASC 4/24/05 - I revised this poem upon returning home from the mission. 7/11/09 - I just added one word... the one that was missing all this time!

Another small assortment of poetry

2009-07-04T22:42:00.000-07:00

I was digging around today and came across these little rhymes, both written while in Church a couple years ago:

A poem for myself to mix rhyme with reason

The purest mind,
cannot tell,
of Adam's fate,
or whence he fell.

But I,
in simple ignorance,
have joy,
through his beneficence.

Dear God

Dear God,
What ever shall I do?
My forefathers were humbly strong in reverence to thee;
Can I be so too?

Is there a sacred citadel,
far from the reach of sin?
For if thou wilt, oh God, my God,
I would to dwell therein!

A word on dating...

2009-07-02T12:50:00.000-07:00

I gave the following talk in church on June 28, 2009; I thought I'd pass it on for fun (although it may not read exactly as heard in person):

I'm very humbled to speak today, especially given the potentially sensitive nature of my topic and my relative inexperience and inadequacy with respect to it. My words will try to elaborate the importance of balancing our lives while dating, giving dating the appropriate place and priority in our lives. So, basically, I'm going to talk about dating!

To start things off, I'd like to read a poem written by Sir Francis Bacon around the turn of the 16th to 17th century entitled, "Life."

Life

The world's a bubble, and the life of man
Less than a span:
In his conception wretched, from the womb
So to the tomb;
Curst from his cradle, and brought up to years
With cares and fears.
Who then to frail mortality shall trust,
But limns on water, or but writes in dust.

Yet whilst with sorrow here we live opprest,
What life is best?
Courts are but only superficial schools
To dandle fools :
The rural parts are turn'd into a den
Of savage men:
And where's a city from foul vice so free,
But may be term'd the worst of all the three?

Domestic cares afflict the husband's bed,
Or pains his head:
Those that live single, take it for a curse,
Or do things worse:
Some would have children : those that have them, moan
Or wish them gone:
What is it, then, to have, or have no wife,
But single thraldom, or a double strife?

Our own affections still at home to please
Is a disease:
To cross the seas to any foreign soil,
Peril and toil:
Wars with their noise affright us ; when they cease,
We are worse in peace: —
What then remains, but that we still should cry
For being born, or, being born, to die?

Now, hopefully most, if not all, of us are not nearly as pessimistic and cynical as the poet, Sir Francis Bacon. Rather, I hope that each and every one of us at least possesses an ounce of optimism with respect to life, its twists and turns, and its purposes.

Dating, as a means to eventually fulfilling one such obvious purpose of life, should be a component of each of our single lives. Does this mean that dating is easy? That's up to us...

I wish to draw on a well-known talk given by Elder and Sister Oaks to illustrate what I mean... and yes, I'm referring to the famous, or infamous, "Dating versus hanging out" talk, given at a fireside in Oakland, California a few years ago. Elder Oaks makes an interesting point when he actually defines dating and its purposes: "Unlike hanging out, dating is not a team sport. Dating is pairing off to experience the kind of one-on-one association and temporary commitment that can lead to marriage in some rare and treasured cases."

Later he says, "Dating involves commitments, if only for a few hours. Hanging out requires no commitments, at least not for the men if the women provide the food and shelter."

And additionally, he says, "... we counsel you to channel your associations with the opposite sex into dating patterns that have the potential to mature into marriage, not hanging-out patterns that only have the prospect to mature into team sports like touch football." (or rugby, if I have already converted you!)

Although Elder Oaks offers several other insights into dating and hanging out, allow me to articulate it as plainly as possible: dating is not hanging out. It is more formal and purposeful than this. Nevertheless, dating is not courtship either. States Elder Oaks to the single, young men of the church: "Start with a variety of dates with a variety of young women, and when that phase yields a good prospect, proceed to courtship. It's marriage time."

Just as Elder Oaks distinguishes between "dating" and "hanging out," I feel it just as important to note that he distinguishes "dating" as different than and preparatory to "courtship," or exclusive dating with the intent to marry. Perhaps our definition of dating needs to be modified; perhaps the implications of dating someone need to be softened. Dating, as defined by Elder Oaks, is what we would call "dating around" and not "dating exclusively." It's time to update our vocabulary and similarly our perceptions.

So what exactly am I suggesting here? What can we single young men and young women do to optimistically approach dating in the proper light?

First, I wish to offer a few words to us men. Though I say that dating is not courtship, I do not wish to diminish the man's responsibility in the least. We should pursue dating with courage and purpose. It is our duty and privilege, our opportunity to reaffirm to the young women around us that they are literal daughters of God. Do whatever you can or must to remember that dating isn't about you, about where you are going, about the expense involved, or about what activity you choose to do... it's about your date and the chance you have to get a small peek into what further commitment to her would be like and would feel like.

The experience itself, as Elder Oaks stated, only represents a temporary commitment. And so, brethren, dating isn't a long-term commitment but rather a short-term experiment. And hopefully one day, such an experiment will lead to greater commitment, even courtship.

So what should we do to improve our dating pursuits? I suggest that planning ahead is the best action to take. We can create a list of good restaurants, fun places to go, and other ideas for activities well in advance. We can appropriate our money so that it isn't difficult or attention-drawing to pay for a date. Doing these simple things will build confidence and foster motivation to realize the last critical step: actually asking a young woman to go on a date with you... "pairing off" as Elder Oaks calls it. And if your planning doesn't go so well, you know you can always ask her, in anticipation of a date, what she would enjoy doing!

Remember, it's about her... not about you...

Second, I wish to speak to the women in frankness about their responsibility in this whole matter. Yes, you must discourage "hanging out," and while that may sound easy, that's not all: you must encourage "dating" as Elder Oaks said, not "courtship" from the start, but "dating"... and all this while avoiding "hanging out."

So what can you do to assist in the dating experiment? Well, let me assure you that Adam Pontipee or one of the Pontipee brothers won't all of a sudden come singing down from Rock Canyon to steal you away and make you his bride! On the contrary, and perhaps more realistically, it may feel like the young men you have your eye on don't even seem to know you exist! Perhaps you feel somewhat 'cast by the wayside' while all of your friends appear to be dating. Whatever the case may be, I say, "Don't wait for the cows to come home without calling them!"

Be proactive; make it easier for young men; express and show your desire to date. Ironically, you women of today are empowered like never before, and yet with respect to dating, the temptation is to feel or even act powerless. Remember, however, that a date is a mutual affair, not a one-sided effort. Do what you can to generate interest: initiate conversation; say hello; smile! By small and simple means are great things brought to pass. Yes, it is the man's responsibility to ask you out... but remember, men need help! Even our Heavenly Father knows this! ... There are small and simple things you can do to help.

Now, if you are making a conscious and continual effort yet not getting asked out, then don't give up but make sure to keep the rest of your life moving forward as well. Elder Oaks counsels, "If you are just marking time waiting for a marriage prospect, stop waiting. You may never have the opportunity for a suitable marriage in this life, so stop waiting and start moving. Prepare yourself for life—even a single life—by education, experience, and planning. Don't wait for happiness to be thrust upon you. Seek it out in service and learning. Make a life for yourself. And trust in the Lord. ..."

Third and finally, I wish to conclude by offering some thoughts to all of us, men and women alike. As many of you may recall, Elder Oaks said that "a date must pass the test of the three p's: (1) planned ahead, (2) paid for, and (3) paired off." While these parameters are obviously important, I would submit that they are primarily the young man's responsibility and can be completely covered before the date even happens. In an effort to remind all of us that a date is a mutual event, however, I would like to present my "three s's," applicable to both men and women, to build upon the "three p's": (1) keep it Simple, (2) make it Significant, and (3) be Sincere.

I once again quote Elder Oaks: "Simple and more frequent dates allow both men and women to "shop around" in a way that allows extensive evaluation of the prospects. The old-fashioned date was a wonderful way to get acquainted with a member of the opposite sex. It encouraged conversation. It allowed you to see how you treat others and how you are treated in a one-on-one situation. It gave opportunities to learn how to initiate and sustain a mature relationship."

Brothers and sisters, keeping our dates and dating habits simple will remove the majority of the intimidation, awkwardness, and anxiety that we often feel. We will be able to better plan and anticipate dates, because they will be simple, cheap, more frequent, and probably even more fun! ... Keep it simple.

Simple does not mean boring, uninvolved, or insignificant. As we strive to instead participate in good conversation, interact in new settings, and find ways to 'make the moment' for each other, then will our simple date become a more memorable and meaningful experience. ... Make it significant.

Perhaps the best way to give special meaning to a date, if only for a few hours, is to be yourself. How else will we be able to discern whether we want to advance to courtship in the future if only one or neither person presents his or her true self to the other? Do whatever it takes to date with pure motivations in an unassuming and optimistic manner. ... Be sincere.

I bear testimony that the Lord loves each and every one of us. He knows us personally. He is completely aware of our individual situations. I know that, for this reason, he blesses and guides us as much as He can so that we may reach our ultimate potential. Dating is a small means in this equation, to eventually receive eternal life. I know that the Church is true. I know that Joseph Smith is a true prophet. The Spirit testifies of these things. In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

A favorite rhyme

2009-07-01T21:48:00.000-07:00

"The World Is Too Much with Us"

The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon,
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers,
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not.--Great God! I'd rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.

-William Wordsworth, 1807

Poems for Mary

2009-06-01T11:49:00.000-07:00

The Bells

Oh, to hear the bells,
so crisp through the air,
though blustery, though windy:
the sound rings true,
to my heart.

The ripe pealing of nature's frequency,
caresses and calls,
home, to home once more.

It's in the air,
the light, the trees, the leaves,
so much green and blue and bright:
the soul is filled,
with calm.

On a Rose

Though the rose's blooming and wilting lasts but a brief while,
yet the beauty and exuberance thereof,
in perfect display of fullness of life,
reminds us of the glory and brightness of each new day,
a chance to open ourselves to the world around us,
to let God's creative power shine through us;

A pure and simple gift,
of goodness,
of graciousness,
of love,
we are,
to all.

2009 ASC Region VI Design Build Competition

2009-02-18T10:13:00.000-08:00

The stress has subsided, the pressure dropped, and all tension released. And in the end, I am happy to say that the 2009 BYU Design Build team emerged successful with a 2nd Place finish!

I am quite relieved that we did well despite the high level of competition presented by the other 10 or so teams. Arizona State University took 1st Place and will advance to Nationals; while I would've liked to win 1st, nevertheless my teammates and I won't miss all the work, time, and stress that goes into preparing for these competitions. So... here's to a comfortable 2nd Place instead!

"I've got a Gal in Kalamazoo"

2009-02-07T00:30:00.001-08:00

Check out this amazing tap dance clip that I saw tonight! (thanks Amy)

The Glenn Miller band provides the backdrop for one of the greatest recorded dance numbers I have ever seen! The Nicholas Brothers are unbelievable! (How is it that I had never heard of this duo before?)

Now, whoever says that performers these days can even compare with those of old just does not know the facts... take a look!

A Pictorial Tribute to Gene Kelly

2009-01-22T02:00:00.000-08:00

To the man whose 'taps' honored life... my favorite performer of all time, the one and only Gene Kelly.

1,000 sit ups

2008-10-30T13:47:00.000-07:00

Nearly ten years ago, I was a fifteen-year-old with outlandish dreams and ideas constantly passing through my mind. During the summertime (of '99 I believe), I somehow got the idea to start doing sit ups on my own. Perhaps I wanted to follow my older brothers in their pursuits of increased physical strength and improved physique... Perhaps I wanted to get the attention of girls... Or perhaps I wanted to feel more confident about myself; I hadn't taken a P.E. class during the previous school year, and I wasn't exactly involved in any established sports to speak of...

I can't say exactly what I was thinking or feeling that drove me to do sit ups; it was probably a mixture of all of the above-mentioned reasons. But the part I still can't figure is how I suddenly bridged the gap between a 'few' sit ups and 'a lot' of sit ups.

I started out, as I recall, doing a maximum of 50 in one set... Now 50 sit ups aren't a big deal, but they were to me at the time! I kept on pushing myself, and after a few weeks, I reached my initial goal of 100. Reaching that small goal boosted my confidence immensely, and I started doing a set of sit ups every day to the point of being able to do a set of 200 and not even feel much different after the fact. I decided to step it up one day, and I did 250... without really feeling much of a difference. The next day, I was feeling good, so I decided to aim high: 500 sit ups. "Now I'll feel the burn for sure this time," I thought...

I thought wrong... no burn... so I just kept going... I reached the 750 mark, and having drastically surpassed my initial goal by a whopping fifty percent, I decided to stop. I felt good; I could have done more. But I was just so surprised with my newly increased capability that I stopped...

The next day, I set a new goal: 1,000 sit ups...

But something changed; I got distracted somehow in that short time. Perhaps my pride pulled me down... I don't quite remember, but I'm sad to say that that goal remained untouched all these years... only apparent on an old chalkboard in our basement /makeshift weight room.

Over the years, I thought about my unaccomplished goal every once in a while. I wanted to be able to lay down and just crank out those 1,000 sit ups like clockwork... but I knew I didn't possess the same reserves of strength and stamina that I had built up previously. After returning from an LDS mission in 2005, I had managed to immediately return to my weightlifting habits easy enough, but I hadn't dared to start doing sit ups again.

Towards the end of this past summer, I was looking for ways to develop my core body strength, and so I started to do crunches and sit ups of different types. Inevitably, I was reminded of my sit up goal... of my failure to finish...

I set a new goal on August 20: 1,000 sit ups by my birthday in mid-November. I wasn't sure if I would be able to make progress as quickly as I had in my teenage experience; nevertheless, I was quite confident in my potential. After all, I had reached 750 sit ups before, and I knew I could do it... even if I was to make the attempt nearly ten years later.

Now, lest you think it was a cakewalk this time, take a look at what I recorded in my sit up log:

SIT UP TRACKER ===> GOAL = 1,000 SIT UPS!
Aug. 21 @ 11:45 ===> 200 sit ups ===> 10:05.54 mins
Aug. 20-something? ===> 250 sit ups
Sept. 5 - in weight room ===> 100 sit ups
Sept. 6 - " " " " ===> " " " "
Sept. 9 - " " " " ===> " " " "
Sept. 11 - " " " " ===> 200 sit ups
Sept. 16 - " " " " ===> 250 " " ===> + or - 10 mins
Sept. 19 - " " " " ===> 300 sit ups ===> 12 to 13 mins
Sept. 23 - " " " " ===> 500 sit ups ===> + or - 20 mins
Sept. 25 - " " " " ===> 800 sit ups ===> 32 mins
Oct. 2 - " " " " ===> 300 sit ups ===> 17 mins :(
Oct. 7 - " " " " ===> 500 sit ups ===> 25 mins
Oct. 200
Oct. 100
Oct. 21 - " " " " ===> 200 sit ups ===> 11 mins :[
Oct. 29 ===> 1,000 sit ups!
2008 =) 'TIS DONE!
AMAZING

1,000 sit ups ===> 25 extra for contingency
TIME = 55 mins 47.84 secs

There it is... talk about a roller coaster! With the start of school, I lost desire to do my sit ups at home, so I started doing them at the end of every workout in the gym. As you can see, I was still all over the place, including this past week or two. Just last night, however, I decided to do a set at home, since I hadn't done any in the previous week; I guess the break paid off!

For your information, if I haven't clarified the fact already, my goal involved a single set of full sit ups, no rests, no cheating in form. I simply placed my toes under a small bar (or cabinet toe kick at home), held onto my head by the ears, and went to town!

I like to compare the whole process to a marathon, or perhaps a mini-marathon (or at least my concept of such). The human body can take amazing amounts of punishment, especially when trained and built-up for such a purpose. Let me describe how the whole process feels, just to give you an idea:

40 to 50 sit ups - oftentimes this point represented the first pain threshold; pain and tightening

150 to 200 sit ups - pain usually subsides in abs; moderate sweating; focus on next hundred or next intermediate goal

400 to 500 sit ups - no pain in abs; heavy sweating (gets in your eyes); other muscles (back, shoulders, arms, calves) tightening; pain in joints (especially elbows, sometimes knees, lower back, or shoulders); focus on final goal (whatever you think you can do based on how you feel)

700 to 800 sit ups - discomfort returning to abs; increased tightening and/or pain in lower back; continued pain in elbows; profuse sweating (to the point of my hands sometimes slipping off my ears); eyes closed (keep out sweat and focus on count); dry throat

1,000 sit ups- all of the above; great satisfaction (and not just because you can finally stop and drink water!)

During the whole process, I was amazed at how much it helps to focus on small, intermediate goals along the way. For example, I would often reach 25 sit ups, in a given interval of a hundred, and tell myself, "1/4 done," or at 67 sit ups, tell myself, "2/3 done," and so on. I was feeling so good and confident last night that I told myself, "1/3 done," at 333 sit ups (in addition to the small increments), and so on until reaching 1,000...

If I ever lost count or was unsure about the previous sit up, I would do the following one at the last number I remembered (usually only off by one in a moment of delirium!). And at the end of every set, I always did at least ten extra sit ups to assure myself and anyone else that I had reached my goal beyond the shadow of a doubt...

I am grateful to have achieved this goal, however immature or ridiculous it may have seemed. I finished what I started. I reached a point that seemed unattainable... perhaps even laughable to my own former, doubting self.

I share this small miracle with the intent to uplift, inspire, and motivate, as well as to celebrate in a small way. You and I can do it; we can realize our dreams if we simply believe and push... and push some more... and even a little more. What else is this life?

DBIA

2008-10-27T18:27:00.000-07:00

Just last week, I was selected to be a member of the DBIA competition team for BYU. Although several people were interviewed, I was unofficially assured a spot on the team, because I had previously showed one of the interviewers my work displayed on the Autodesk Education website.

I feel honored to be given a chance to compete at the collegiate level doing what I love. I will be the designer in charge of most every part of the project's appearance: external image of the building, design characteristics, presentation methods, and etc. The project involves the design of a cancer institute as an addition to an existing hospital.

In mid-February, the team will go to Reno to coordinate a proposal for the project over the course of a grueling, 18-hour day. I have a few months to prepare and build my knowledge of applicable projects and design factors, as well as my expertise using different design software. If our team takes 1st place, we will then go to a similar competition at the national level...

The task before me presents no small piece of cake; success will only come at a great cost.

And did I happen to mention that the results of this competition could completely and directly affect my future career? Employers from around the country witness the competition and, drawing from firsthand witnesses' accounts, spare no expense in catering to students at a career fair the day following the competition. Basically, if I do well, I could have employers lining up to sell themselves to me...

The potential for success or for failure in this endeavor is enormous. I just pray that I can do my best, not only for my benefit but for that of the whole team; I'm not the only one with skin in the game.

'Twould be a great blessing to win... wish me luck as I again pursue success on a plane higher than I've ever attempted. Go BYU DBIA!

Windiana

2008-10-02T22:54:00.000-07:00

Living in Utah does not often provide much variety in terms of weather. I have lived here for three years now, and I must say that it feels like only two seasons dominate, WINTER and summer, without too much in between.

As I was walking home tonight, however, a gust of wind swept across campus, bringing the trees to life, rippling through the folds of my shirt, and caressing my skin. Though it lasted only a few minutes, I couldn't help but remember those fall winds that blow so often and so strong back home in Indiana...

I miss the exhilarating sensation that the wind brings, ruffling and stirring up the leaves of my soul.

Ronan Tynan and me

2008-09-16T12:33:00.000-07:00

Today I met Ronan Tynan... well, actually I just shook his hand and quickly took a picture with him. I went to see his forum address in the Marriott Center at BYU, but I didn't have time to get a camera before it started. After it ended, I walked back to my office on the other end of campus, retrieved a digital camera, and walked all the way back just in time to quickly snap a photo with him before he left. 'Twas the luck o' th' Irish that granted me this opportunity!

If you are now wondering who Ronan Tynan is or why I care, let me share a short story.

During the summer of 2002, I had recently returned from my freshman year of college and was looking ahead to serving a mission for the LDS church. My birthday was not until November, so I had plenty of time to prepare... but, suffice it to say, I lacked much to prepare myself mentally and spiritually for a two year mission. My older brother, Chris (Alma), had returned from his mission not more than a year before, and he was not blind to nor silent about my needs.

That summer, there were several occasions in which Chris and I would be alone in the house or driving somewhere. In an effort to improve our thoughts, words, actions, and attitudes we would refrain from listening to questionable and distracting music. Rather, we would pop in a CD that my parents had purchased some months before, Ellis Island by the Irish Tenors. One song in particular, Isle of Hope (Isle of Tears), was our favorite for the great story, emotion, and power which it held; we loved singing along for the fun as well as the innocence of it all. I will never forget that time in my life, a time in which I drew closer to God in sobriety and humility.

If you aren't aware or haven't guessed by now, Ronan Tynan was one of the Irish Tenors. I was greatly pleased and somewhat moved to see him stand and, even before addressing the audience, hear him sing Isle of Hope (Isle of Fears).

Though being a world-class singer is as grand an achievement as any might hope to attain in life, Ronan Tynan has done so much more than this... all with a physically impaired set of legs. I was previously not even aware that he wears prosthetics from the knees down. Yet after having both legs amputated, he won sixteen gold medals and set fourteen world records as a paralympian in the '80s. Later, he became a doctor and practitioner of medicine. And even later still, already in his thirties, he sought to develop his singing talent. Since then, the world has come to recognize him as one of the three Irish Tenors, and recently, as a solo effort which has been highly successful.

What a great example of effort and desire resulting in great talent! And all of us, the onlookers, reap the rewards...

http://byunews.byu.edu/archive08-Sep-tynan.aspx

http://www.rhapsody.com/theirishtenors/ellisisland/isleofhopeisleoftears

It gets better...

2008-09-12T09:39:00.000-07:00

So I thought that the Autodesk Student Online Community was only featuring my rendering in a series of five selections as a backdrop for their homepage... I thought that it was the only recognition I had received in a subtle sort of way...

So I thought...

Today I was browsing the same website to ensure that my new group, "Autodesk BYU", with its accompanying logo was visible and searchable among the group listings.

At one point, I clicked on a graphic link to view the statements and renderings of the winner of the architecture category of the Student Design Competition, Andrew Southwood-Jones of Canberra, Australia. I hadn't seen anything more than a thumbnail image of his entry before, so I was interested to learn a little more about his design. His was definitely more developed than mine... and so deserves my respects.

As I looked at his entry under the "Winners" tab, however, I realized that there was also a "Finalists" tab. I scrolled down the list of nine finalists, and lo and behold, there was my design in the list!

So it's official... I am a finalist, after all. Feels good.

Honorable Mention... of sorts...

2008-09-05T09:38:00.000-07:00

Here's a screen shot from the Autodesk Student & Educator Online Community Website. You have to sign in to your account to see this image, but I'll have you know that it is legitimate. One of my coworkers said she saw a picture of my design on the background of the site, and I almost didn't believe her. I signed in, and, sure enough, there it was. After refreshing the page almost a hundred times, I realized that my rendering is one of only five displayed...

I thought that the only award possible in the Architecture category of the Student Design Competition was First Place (and potentially the Grand Prize if you received the First Place award). I didn't win the First Place award and easily left it at that, especially considering the fact that I was competing against tons of architectural students at accredited architectural schools across the world. My coworker, Clyne the RJ(Revit Jedi), and I had joked, prior to learning the competition results, about my design appearing on the Autodesk website...

Well, as they say, "be careful what you wish for." This small exhibition of my work is more than consolation indeed... a sort of Honorable Mention. I am proud of this recognition and grateful to those that helped me in getting there.

The caption on the bottom right of the image reads: "Image courtesy of A. Scot Clark, Brigham Young University Student." And below the black menu bar by the "Logout" link, it reads "335,502 Current Members." So, in all honesty, this is definitely the largest exposure my work has ever received and may ever receive in the future...

But, I've still got some time...

A personal immersion in Architecture

2008-08-15T17:31:00.000-07:00

Architecture has rooted itself deeply in my life. More than simply an interest or occasional hobby, the practice thereof has developed into a compulsion, a drive to create newness. In this creative pursuit, I have realized that the process itself has generated within me a deep respect for the master works of professionals, here and there, past and present... I have learned of their magnificence as I have feebly attempted to emulate their work in the expansion of my own ideas and concepts. My respect is never ending.

This admission, however humble, does not come without a hint of pride... I have never given up. I have continually pushed myself in spite of my weaknesses. I have never let go of the dream that is architecture.

Just recently, I realized that I have been pursuing this dream for nearly 10 years, almost half of my life. Has the time and effort been worth it? Indeed. But what proof??? Love... Support... Admiration... Recognition... Respect... All of these, however private or relatively small in magnitude, are overwhelmingly powerful in their effect. So I continue...

Here are some pictures of and links to some of my work. I do not claim to be at a professional level by any means.

Ascot Manor

The VAULT - Bachelor Pad Concept

Becca House
Becca House - more

AXO Student Center: Evolution

Tower5 - Concept

Michael Phelps' Olympics

2008-08-12T16:08:00.000-07:00

Just over 3 years ago, I returned from Mexico to find my younger brother Brett much taller and much stronger. I also found out that he was on our high school swim team doing quite well as the team's leading backstroker. One of his coaches liked to compare him to some guy named Michael Phelps who was apparently one of the best swimmers in the world. My 'little' brother is just an inch taller than Phelps and similarly has very large feet and hands. I didn't know why Phelps was such a big deal; I was in Mexico during the previous Olympics, quite oblivious to his accomplishments and presence in general.

That was then...

Since last Saturday, I haven't missed a televised race involving Michael Phelps, preliminary heat or final. Let's just say the intrigue and possibility surrounding this man drew me in. I am lost in the surreal nature of it all. Phelps seems so real, so 'normal' in pre-race mode... but take off the earphones and warm ups, and you have a titan, a world-beater. In relatively short races, he bests the competition not in terms of hundredths of a second or inches between touches; rather, he has set a trend of winning by whole body-lengths and multiples of half-seconds. His performances demand the attention and respect of all, for they appear supernatural.

Uncertainty certainly lingers as the world observes the varied events of the Olympic Games, yet in the midst of all this unknown potential stands Michael Phelps. His potential is known, his great capacity even expected. This Olympics belongs to him, to the man who will receive more gold medals and more world records than entire countries can hope to achieve.

And though I feel rather desensitized by this year's presidential elections and talk of economic woes, nevertheless I am grateful for one thing right now: the chance to witness the overwhelming excitement of the 2008 Michael Phelps Olympics... and feel renewed as an American.

U. S. A., U. S. A., U. S. A.!

Royal Ascot

2008-07-23T14:41:00.000-07:00

A word on the significance of 'Ascot'...

(Freddy? What's he got to do with it?)

In 1711, Queen Anne held the first race meeting at Ascot, at the time known as 'East Cote', establishing the tradition of the Royal Ascot meeting for the next 300 years. Today, the Ascot Racecourse persists as the world's most renowned horse racing venue.

History: http://www.ascot.co.uk/aboasc/aboasc_his.html
Virtual Tour of facilities: http://www.ascot.co.uk/virtour/ascottour.php
Main page: http://www.ascot.co.uk/index.html

Perhaps the only image any American would have of the Royal Ascot is the scene from My Fair Lady wherein Eliza lets fly a dandy of an expletive... I won't repeat it, but you get the picture.

The setting is the Ascot Racecourse, and the outrageously ornate costumes worn by one and all are actually the standard for anyone who wishes to attend. Granted, styles have changed somewhat, but the men still wear formal suits, some with ascots (don't worry, I'll explain), and the women still wear lavish gowns with, shall we say, overly expressive hats. Basically, the Royal Ascot is the place to be seen if you're anybody who's anybody in England; Queen Elizabeth II herself attends every year. And so the name 'Ascot' has become synonymous with high society, posh lifestyle, and the general 'lap o' luxury'.

Royal Ascot Magazine 2008: http://edition.pagesuite-professional.co.uk/Launch.aspx?referral=other&refresh=Ha91z30TLw20&PBID=7b98fe2c-6a05-4cb0-a223-b632edc2ded8&skip

Now, in terms of clothing, an 'ascot' is a type of formal cravat, or tie, usually fastened with a stickpin and worn with a morning coat. Not surprisingly, the ascot was so named for its original appearance at the Royal Ascot.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ascot_tie

Drawing upon the aforementioned definitions (as well as the one listed at the end), I applied the name to a home I designed during my high school years, 'Ascot Manor'. The house was my attempt to incorporate most all the luxuries I saw available in residential construction into one plan.

And last but not least, in my estimation anyway, 'Ascot' is a play on my name, 'A. Scot'. And I think it fitting, given my English and Scottish heritage.

So... now you know the story of at least one 'Ascot'.

A Tribute to the (S)aged

2008-07-14T13:02:00.000-07:00

Next week, I will again enjoy the opportunity to participate in a talent show for the elderly. On previous occasions, I resigned myself to reading an assortment of English poetry... but this time will be different! ... Okay, okay, I will still read some selections to be sure, but I've decided to read a poem of my own composition, a sort of tribute to those who find themselves in the ebb of their lives.

I composed this poem a few days ago, in anticipation of the upcoming event. As I searched for some inspiration, I couldn't help but to think of my own grandfather, 'Grampy' as we called him. I express gratitude for him, my other grandparents, and the elderly everywhere that, more often than not, are the keepers of great wisdom and experience, love and faith. We are as they once were.

A Word to the Wise

In troubled times, of doubt and fear,
When I’d rather shrink than fight,
The vision of a Face, so dear,
Turns the darkness into light.

‘Twas the image of a man I saw,
His countenance, so sure,
Of youth and dreams and hopes still raw,
A Journey for to endure;

And as I stared into his eyes,
Amidst the shades of Gray,
A feeling gripped me by surprise,
As though to hear him say:

“Scotty me boy, remember this,
When life whirls round us grim:
The only true and simple Bliss,
Lies in giving, not giving in.

For though in life you saw me rest,
A body, aged and spent,
Withal does this portrait attest,
Of my Youth, once exuberant.

Through times of trial, want, and woe,
Whilst war posed to deprive,
My feet I fixed, firm in the row,
The Dream to keep alive;

And for my grit did God concede,
A blest Posterity,
To teach, to cherish, and to lead,
Throughout eternity.

So I suggest, Scotty me lad,
When the day looms dark and dim,
Be steadfast, like your ol’ granddad,
And give, but never give in.”

On Simplicity

2008-07-14T09:13:00.000-07:00

I measured my bedroom the other day... ten feet wide by twelve and a half feet long. Not very big, but I live comfortably enough.

I was busy modifying a set of plans for a new home designed by my boss. In answer to a request to return as close as possible to the original budget, he simply decided to move large elements of the house inward and thus reduce the total square footage price...

The idea seemed simple enough in theory, yet the actual execution was another story, especially with a whole set of plans that were already finished. The relocation of the east wall four feet to the west actually didn't cost too many brain cells, but when I got to the basement floor plan, I realized I would have to totally revamp nearly half of the original layout...

A few forehead wrinkles later, I had come up with the simplest, most sensible solution that didn't deviate too much from the original intent. One of the bedrooms was quite reduced in width, but I figured that if a tall body like me could survive in a 125 square foot room, then just about any future resident could survive well enough in a 166 square foot room... even if it was a wierd L-shape!

I'd like to think that a better solution was possible... but in this instance, moving a foundation wall or two was really out of the question...

Such experiences cause me to ponder on my current lifestyle and the little niches, here and there, that form the world in which I live. I figure that the whole of my territory isn't more than ten square miles; though I don't have a car, I rarely venture very far with friends anyway... My bedroom, as you now know, isn't huge, but it houses my books, my drawings, my shoes, my ties, and my clothes...

Everything has its place, and thank goodness... this simple-minded fellow can only focus on one thing at a time! I enjoy keeping my world simple... the other things, people, and places in the larger world that surround my small one thus have a more tangible value and presence.

... Anything else just might be chaos...

This her's it

2008-07-02T11:29:00.000-07:00

Well folks, this is my new blog where I will post the random and partially-planned happenings of my daily life...

Yup, sounds just great huh? Let me tell you... I feel pretty dang tickled at the prospect! (okay, you can all just quietly smile, nod your head, and go on your merry way)...

I know I can only expect that a few select family members and friends will read anything here posted, let alone make any sense of it.

Regardless, here's one morsel for your trouble:

A simple rhyme,
To pass the time,
Oh, so pleasantly;

That 'fore it's done,
Thou wilst have won,
A spot, o' greenery!