What I'm Listening To...

As is periodically expected, here is a playlist of my latest musical pursuits, in no particular order...or genre. Just a few tunes I'm diggin' on.

Spring Begins.

The grass is green again, reflecting the sun's reestablished presence, ready and waiting for the inevitable constant company—wielding picnic blankets, frisbees and glasses of lemonade—to arrive. Flowers of endless shapes, colors and sizes bloom everywhere and the mountains look inviting, having freshly shaken off winter's last cold whisperings.

Finally, spring is in the air.

Along with nature's annual makeover, a peculiar change of outlook also accompanies this wonderful phenomenon. Positivity seems more accessible. New opportunities present themselves--or at least cast seemingly worn-out opportunities in a new light. A certain je ne sais quois ignites the serotonin in our brains. Romance blossoms. Barry White music is no longer scoffed at, but encouraged.

If you ask me, "spring resolutions" should replace "New Year's resolutions." As a result, the number of people able to accomplish their goals in the former would rise from roughly 11% to 63% (yes, the aforementioned statistics are made-up and arbitrary).

Something about the season also let's the "magic" of life more easily fill our minds. Warm nights looking at stars, appreciating the beauty of nature, valuing relationships and more.

I love the feeling of renewal, of a fresh outlook and the chance to re-prioritize while worrying less about the little things and feeling a little bolder in my pursuits, whatever they may be. Being able to let my hair down and be more open to whatever may come my way.

I'd ponder more on the wonders of springtime and its effects, but it's time to go lay out on the grass, sip on some lemonade and groove with Mr. White. Good luck in your revitalized endeavors.

Parlor Hawk, "Hoarse and Roaring"

Listening to “Hoarse and Roaring” is like driving alone down a long, open road off into a sunset tinged landscape, leaving plenty of time to contemplate life’s hopes and struggles. Parlor Hawk’s distinct brand of Americana folk-rock permeates the effort with a tight sound featuring steadily strummed guitars, an achingly bluesy twang and frontman Drew Capener’s desperate vibrato on every track.

The band successfully creates a contemporary take on an antique sound with a salt of the earth vibe — but that’s not to say there’s anything ordinary about this music. The evenly-paced drum beats and clean harmonies are both intimate and personal in their everyman quality. The sound produced is at times melancholy but more often contemplative — simultaneously nostalgic and forward-looking. Utilizing instruments such as a pump organ and slide guitar, Parlor Hawk generates its vintage sound. The music and lyrics are unpretentious and fervent; simple yet rich and layered. Stylistic comparisons can be easily drawn to artists like Damien Rice, Ryan Adams or an early Wilco.

“Home,” the album’s opener, has a catchy chorus and sparse percussion with the duo of a bass drum and tambourine that eventually break into handclaps at the peak of the action. Capener careens in and out of the guitar riffs, channeling an old-timey, saloon feel as you envision an antique piano being played in the corner. Parlor Hawk’s country roots show through in “Every Bone,” a track laden with the twang of a steel guitar as the reluctant rhythm trudges forward with a message of love lost. “Julian,” the album’s most melancholy tune, well utilizes Capener’s wounded voice as he croons about faded love; “I’ll give you my canvas/Paint cracked and dry/Might lead you to question/But reason can’t ask reason why.” The album’s dream-like, “Lark,” is a swaying melody that plays like a bittersweet lullaby with the ethereal chorus floating in the night sky as Capener’s voice intertwines with the female harmony. The more upbeat “Flowers” contains a bluesy guitar hook and a steady, toe-tapping beat. “Saddest Song,” is a melancholy campfire sing-a-long, featuring only vocals and an acoustic guitar.

All in all, “Hoarse and Roaring” is an album that you’ll want to pick up and sing along with, no matter what mood you're in. Check out Parlor Hawk's MySpace page here and listen to some tracks.


Check out the official article at Rhombus Online Magazine

The Cycle.

What a whirlwind. Like the tail end of a draining bathtub.

I know what happens from past experience, but every time I’m faced with a new challenge, I lose perspective all over again and have to re-learn what I formerly thought I was better for—that impossible challenges slowly turn to manageable experiences which become great ones and inevitably end too early and I’m left with a feeling of gratitude, wondering where the time went.

This past week has been somewhat of a proverbial blur: finishing up my last stories, celebrating my birthday, dealing with controversy in the newsroom (specifically on my desk) and now concluding a semester that would receive the superlatives of “hardest,” “most intense” and “most rewarding” all at once.

It’s my last day in the newsroom, and as I type this entry on a computer I’ll probably never walk by again in desperation to get another source for an impending story I have to do, I contemplate the past few months as well as my immediate future simultaneously. It’s really a mixed bag of emotions—fear, worry, hope, anxiety, confidence and an unexpected sense of sadness leaving my home for the last four months.

Thank you to everyone who has helped me—my editors (Spencer and Kaye), fellow reporters, professors, friends and family who have supported me and given me encouragement and anyone else who has aided me along the way. As hard as this has been, I’ve loved every second of it and am eager to take the next step in bridging the gap to a career and begin my internship for The Daily Herald this summer.

Goodbye Daily Universe. It’s been a good ride.

Where's Waldo?

It all began last winter.

It started with a passing thought, developed into a full-fledged idea, became tangible when we scribed it on paper and settled in our minds as a finalized goal: to make a movie filled with mystery, intrigue and stripes.

Yes, a movie about Waldo.

However, through the complicated and ever-shifting characteristics of college life, our promising project was put on indefinite hiatus--until now that is. Using a film competition put on via our church ward as a catalyst, Waldo was finally able to come into fruition through our camera lens.

In odd, yet successful combination with two of my latest interests--1920's noir private eye flicks and "The Office"--our freshly finished project, "Where's Waldo: The Movie," contains elements from all three. I, of course, play the part of the detective (see nerdy shot of me attempting to spice up life in the newsroom below).

The movie follows the Scooby Doo-esque adventures of a band of college students attempting to find the elusive Waldo, all the while encountering a myriad of colorful characters of lore on their pursuit.

The movie was a blast to make. Hopefully the end result is just as entertaining. I give you "Where's Waldo: The Movie."


Watch part one here:





And part two here:

WARNING: Nerds May Seem Closer Than They Appear

The night began as any other typical Saturday evening would in Provo. A sense of restlessness, a flurry of activity and socializing, a crowded University Ave.--oft making any vehicular travel frustrating--and the expectation of a good movie with friends.

This particular Saturday’s movie selection was the much talked about “Slumdog Millionaire,” a film offered through BYU’s international cinema program—one of the University’s hidden gems (or so I thought). Turns out the movie was quite well-known judging by the roughly 437.6 people standing in line, reproducing approximately the length of the LaVell Edwards football stadium. I seemed to have underestimated the attraction of Mormons to the “clean flicks” editions of good rated R movies. We were forced to re-strategize our night’s goals.

After strolling over to the Eyring Science Center and playing with the assortment of gadgets and science experiments strewn about the building’s main area, we had collapsed in a thin hallway where we were admiring a glass display of Russian nesting dolls along with the seemingly unfit placement of a zebra Beanie Baby named Ziggy.

Enter “Spencer”—real name omitted for his protection (not to protect his safety, but future dating opportunities). Donning a Star Trek shirt and a disarmingly large grin, he greeted us in the small corridor. After a bit o’ small talk, he offered to give us a tour of some of the facilities he has access to as a physics major, forebodingly known as “the basement.” We weren’t sure why he would offer such an opportunity, but intrigued we ventured into the depths of the science center.

Appearing like some secret lab out of a James Bond movie, the basement was very cool-looking—in a sterile, mad scientist sort of way. “Spencer” led us down to one of the larger rooms with a bright yellow sign attached to the doors, reading:

“Big Scary Laser: Do not look into beam with remaining eye.”

We all laughed at it (somewhat suspiciously, I might add), and slowly proceeded to enter the room. A quick scan of our surroundings told us that this place was every nerd’s paradise. There were some computers in one corner, others scattered about, lasers and other contraptions on lab tables, a pair of light sabers in a box near us and a ridiculously complicated-looking math equation taking up an entire white board.

Eagerly, our geeky tour guide showed us around, tossing out terms like “Strontium,” “inferatory” and “U.S.S. Enterprise” (Trekkie reference) as we explored. Admittedly the tour was pretty fascinating and our escort’s enthusiasm for his surroundings a little infectious. However, we began getting bored so we said our goodbyes.

We walked back to my car enlightened, worn-out and grateful that our Saturday nights usually consist of activities with other life forms above ground.

Thank you Spencer, wherever you are, for such a special evening.

The Graduate

I’d heard a lot of buzz about “The Graduate”—especially after being featured in “(500) Days of Summer”—but didn’t know too much about it until I finally watched it this weekend. Though I don’t think the plot was quite fleshed out enough and the characters weren’t very sympathetic, the cinematography was impressive and the uncertainty of youth well-captured.

"The Graduate" follows Benjamin Braddock’s post-college quandary. Braddock (played by a young Dustin Hoffman) spends his time after graduation sort of stagnating, without a real direction, wondering why he just spent four years devoted to academics and trying to figure out what it means for him now (the mood well-represented by Simon & Garfunkel’s musically-inspired melancholia).

Though you don’t get much of a chance to get a feel for Hoffman’s idealistic character before getting thrust into the action, you do get a sense of his perplexity. He’s a good person who has done what he thought (and has been told) best but seemingly received nothing from it of value.

Though the ending appears to be happy on the surface, there’s no clear resolution (this is the part “(500) Days” comments on). After narrowly escaping a wedding precession, Braddock and the object of his affection, Elaine, board a bus and reflect on what the audience supposes is their future. At first, smiles abound but gradually fade into looks of neutrality and subtle uncertainty. They ponder: is there really a clear right choice and happy ending? Is this it?

If nothing else, the film also causes us to reexamine our own futures and the choices we’ve made that have led us up to this point in our lives. It makes us question our motivations and plans. What do we really want? What's not so important? Where do we want to devote our energy and time? What risks are worth taking?

Ultimately—and especially as a college student drawing nearer and nearer to graduation—I’m left with the importance of balancing the academic with the emotional; working hard to succeed in school to secure a stable future while doing my best to keep relationships and family atop my priority list. Trying to be flexible with a lot of inevitable uncertainty, but still reaching for the ideal.

Overall, “The Graduate” is worth a watch and hopefully causes you to have a well-placed introspection as well.

(Here’s one of the Simon & Garfunkel tunes predominant on the soundtrack.)