Finished just in time to hand in 8 hrs. from now. I think that my feelings toward this particular assignment came out in the overall violent feeling it eminates. I'm sure that my teacher will request several modifications...
(It is really 18"x24")

prodigal daughter.

(I drew Whitney in church today.)

Alone time is overrated.

When I cut my mullet off this morning, Miriam was there to straighten the hairline on the back of my neck with scissors and Mom was there to vacuum off my shoulders.
Right now I need someone to stand on my ruler so that I can tear my over-sized piece of drawing paper in a straight line (but everyone is at church.)

I cannot describe how much I've enjoyed the company of my family while they've been visiting for Thanksgiving.

We had a lesson on the parable of The Prodigal Son in church today and I couldn't help but think of my own prodigal-ness. Not one of my siblings has been jealous or resentful or angry about my parents' figurative killing of the fatted calf upon my return.

Every moment spent in the company of my family feels absolutely joyful as being in their collective presence reminds of that fact.

I cannot wait for the time when we will all be happily gathered in the same room.


swoon (less.)

(a self portrait I drew in 2003)

Last night I saw "Twilight" last with 3 of my siblings as well as my mother (who have all read the "Twilight" series books.)

It was a disaster. Absolutely dreadful. It was like I forgot that movies could be THIS bad. The dialogue: straight from the back of a cereal box. The action sequences: laughable.

But what really killed me were the romantic parts. I wasn't even involved enough to feel awkward about how poorly acted they were. I felt no reaction. None whatsoever.

Then I started to feel scared for myself like, "Laura, are you seriously so jaded about romance that you can't get into chick-flicks anymore?"

I felt even worse when I reflected on my experience watching the 4th season of "The Office" with my 25 yr. old cousin, Scott, on Thanksgiving Day.

"So Scott, do you like Pam? Like, do you think she's cute?"

"Yeah. I'm not sure that I'd go for her in real life, but I think that she's perfect for Jim."

"Okay, but do you really care if they end up together or not?"

"Yeah. I really hope they end up together. It's like the best part of the show."

I can genuinely say that in my experience watching "The Office" that Pam and Jim's relationship feels like the slow part, the thing that you just have to bear with or get through until you hit more of the funny parts. As I watch I find myself thinking, "Why would anyone even want to go for a girl like Pam?" But then I always answer myself with, "Oh yeah, Jim isn't actually that cool either."

I'm certainly not complaining, I think my life is fabulous and blessed. But aren't I missing out on something? Maybe I'm just watching the wrong movies?

Romance feels like a fairytale to me, like something a male would work at until he felt secure in his relationship; until he'd won her over.

Maybe just in most cases?

Maybe my icy, divorced heart will melt someday.


blind date.

I've never been on a real blind date before, but last week at church a girl asked me if she could set me up with her brother. I found out that he used to gleek on my brother in choir class when they were in the eighth grade.

The date hasn't actually been set up and I don't know if it's really going to happen, but the whole thing has got me thinking about the concept of blind dating.

Why do people hate it? Does it imply that you are inept at choosing a date of your own?

Truthfully, at this point, I think I'm willing to trust others' match-making skills more than my own. I'll be the first to admit that I lack good judgement when it comes to boys. Heck, I'll even bring it up so you don't have to. I'll even list the specifics of what I've done wrong.

I think that being set up on a blind date should be seen as a compliment more than anything. I think it shows that you've made an impression on the person who wants to set you up and that they are willing to introduce you to someone they respect.

My mom set up the first date of my brother, Tom, and his wife. I think that my mom was basically saying to my future sister-in-law, "You are the kind of girl I want as a member of my family and that you deserve my wonderful son." What's more complimentary than that?

I guess there are those other cases where people are like, "You're a big unattractive dork, and so is he...let's see if you guys can make babies someday." Or, if a single person of the same gender is setting you up, they could be trying to dispose of their leftovers. Yuck.

But really, I think the concept of blind dating isn't so foreign to anyone who has a facebook profile or any online presence for that matter. You fill that thing out wondering who will see it; friends, strangers, family members; and you do your best to make a certain impression.

I made some pieces for an art show. 27 chickens. Added together every contributor's chickens will be thousands in number and mark the approximate number of chickens consumed in Provo in one day. The chicken pieces will line the walls of the Sego Gallery and sell for $1 each. The proceeds will go to the Utah Food Bank.

I thought of what I could do to make my chickens stand out so that someone would feel the urge to spend $1 to buy them. I wanted to make a good impression on a worthy consumer. I think it ended up like a blind date.


if bush was your roommate.

This video takes me straight to 2003; the Proulx family front room; middle-of- nowhere-Amish-country Pennsylvania. In that house full of liberals I think I laughed so hard I cried. Even Whitney (who was in no way anti-Bush) joined in on the fun. We watched it over and over and over again. I don't think I ever got sick of watching it. Maybe it was just hearing Caleb's hearty laugh coupled with his predictable outburst of knee-slapping. Such great times. Such a great piece of personal nostalgia. Some cell pics from that trip (me & whit):



Yes. I drew this in Adobe Illustrator and so did every other kid in my class. I am posting it because it has been my life for what seems like days.


prop eight.

The argument that Prop. 8 infringes on civil rights is a convincing one. Why should large groups of religious people dictate what anyone else does in their life? What about liberty and justice for all? Equality? Since I am an art student, allow me to draw a comparison to Plato's aesthetic philosophy.

Plato believed that reality consists of archetypes, or forms, beyond human sensation, which are the models for all things that exist in human experience (MSN Encarta.) Take a chair, for example. (Every time someone explains this, they use a chair for some reason.) Plato believed that there was a perfect form of a chair, and that all other chairs were made to imitate it. The closer a chair came to being like the perfect form, the more beautiful it was.

Of course, as an art student, this concept strikes me as odd. First, there are many chairs made for many different purposes: office chairs, dining chairs, rocking chairs, etc. But even if you break it down to the idea that there is a quintessential model for each type of chair, you are left with no room for the idea of self-expression through art.

My favorite kind of art is that which effectively communicates the imperfect human experience. I love variety and diversity. This is the kind of art that speaks to us emotionally; that we respond and relate to.

I do believe, however, that this Platonic idea of a perfect archetype relates to the concept and institution of marriage. Art is created by us; imperfect people. Marriage was first instituted by God. I believe that the happier a marriage is, the more the couple is behaving in the way God intended them to behave. And while I think it is possible that same-sex couples could behave in many ways that God intended-- enough to be happy within their relationship-- I also believe that it does contradict some of the most basic commandments given to Adam and Eve at the beginning of the Bible.

What I mean to say, is that I believe strongly in marriage the way God intended. And although I believe that His intentions go far beyond what gender(s) the couple is; that the issue of gender(s) does lie at its foundation.

The great respect I feel for this perfect archetype could probably best be illustrated by my persistence in my own failed marriage. I spent 3 years in a terrible and often abusive relationship because I didn't take the idea of marriage casually. I tried as hard as I could to milk the goodness from it, to mold it into a "real" marriage. I left only when I was finally convinced that it could never be sculpted into the thing that God intended. Yes, I believe in a wrong and right way to be married. I believe that same-sex marriage will never be fully "right" the way that my failed marriage was never going to be fully "right."

So why should my opinion have any bearing on what other people are allowed to do?

To hand the title of "marriage" over to same-sex couples will make it okay to label me as a bigot for the rest of my life. The Christian idea of marriage the way it is found in the scriptures will be (and already is being) considered politically incorrect. I want to have the freedom to teach my children what I believe about marriage fearlessly. There are also legal concerns about churches that are unwilling to perform gay marriages losing their "non-profit" tax status. It's a pretty key issue.

Equal rights for gay people? Absolutely. I'm all for it. It think that gay partners should be entitled to life insurance, health insurance, hospital visitation rights, and all other benefits that married people enjoy. I would even help defend these rights alongside members of the gay community.

There are at least four gay people I can think of off the top of my head that I am happy to claim as friends. They are all intelligent and capable and I enjoy spending time with them. I am really happy that they have the right to vote, sit on the front of the bus, eat at any lunch counter they choose, hold public office; and I think that they should never face discrimination.


my bedroom wall.

So I'm trying to upload my daily doses of recording my life around me, but I'm afraid they are a little boring. Please be patient...I will not forget the song "Lover, Lover, Lover" by Leonard Cohen going through by head over and over as I drew this, (a good thing) and the bit of loneliness I always feel when I spend a Sunday evening in solitude.

For some reason I could only find a 30 sec. clip:


josef albers.

Click here to see the original.
This color theory study literally took me nine hours. I'm not really sure how I feel about that now, but I'll confess that when it was finished, I felt proud. Josef Albers really was ingenious and I'll also admit that I feel like I've learned a lot about color relationships after attempting to mimic his work.



All of you who have attended BYU know that twice daily when the flag is raised and lowered, the national anthem blasts over loudspeakers. Everyone stops dead in their tracks, faces the flag even if it is not in view, and puts their hands over their hearts until the song is over. It can be shocking, confusing, and even awe-inspiring to those who are unfamiliar with the ritual.
I play the role of conscientious objector daily by refusing to follow suit. It is not because I am unpatriotic or attempting to make a political stance about my dissatisfaction with the state of the nation, but because I feel a deep discomfort in my chest about joining in.
In my mind, it is reminiscent of other countries' rituals that Americans are so keen to criticize as being overly nationalistic.
In some ways, I feel very proudly patriotic for being the lone one on campus; the sore thumb, the liberal, the conscientious objector; because in this country and on BYU campus, I know I will receive no more than a few weird looks as a consequence.
this is a collage i made venting my frustration on this topic.



(the projector in the room where I attend conversation lab for my Spanish class.)

A guy named Jared Greenleaf presented clips from his journals to my art class. He didn't have much to say about his work other than that for him, art is a joint venture. He spoke of always drawing with others, with friends. He said that when he didn't have people in his life to draw with, that he didn't produce as much work and that the quality also waned. He stressed how much we need people around us to inspire us and create artwork for and with.

I've attended a lot of art events lately. Talks, galleries, openings. Some of them leave me questioning why I enjoy art at all. There is beautiful stuff and plenty of interesting things to hear and say, but I sometimes I feel left with a hallowness; like in the grand scheme of things it doesn't mean that much. It isn't feeding starving children, helping me question/define my beliefs, or even making anyone smile.

Somehow Jared Greenleaf's journal clips revived my hope. They are his life, interpreted by his own hands and eyes and are shared with (and depict) those he loves. I can't think of any type of artwork more invaluable.

A kid in my class said he felt inspired to go home and sketch too. I bet a lot of us did.