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Essays 2007-2008
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Jim Park's Exhibition in President's Gallery
Ran Li
The exhibition for Jim Park’s works started on February 11 in President’s Gallery and will end on April 11.The exhibition title is "A Stillness in the Land". Jim Park got his Bachelor degree of Fine Arts in Brigham Young University in 1995 and then he got his Master degree of Fine Arts in Northern Illinois University. From 1998 to 1999, Jim Park was a substitute teacher in Milton School District. Now he is an assistant professor of Department of Art and Design in Minnesota State University Moorhead.2000 to present, he is an active member of Department committees. Jim Park has a lot of publications.
The paintings in the exhibition are of two very different mediums and experiences. The oil paintings are of Jim’s hometown (Driggs, Idaho) and memories of Teton Valley and the oil pastel paintings are of abstract landscapes and imaginary settings.
The oil paintings were created from Jim's desire to capture some of the visual beauty of Teton Valley before it is altered forever, due to growth. Several views that Jim has chosen to display in the exhibition are from specific locations where he would spend his leisure time as a youth-such as Teton Creek and Teton River where he has done a lot of fishing. Some of the places where his friends, family and he would venture to are gone, yet many are still as he remembers them as a boy. The other old paintings are scenes demonstrating the grandeur and beauty of that special part of Idaho that will always be his home.
"During the spring of 2005, with the help of a Minnesota State University Moorhead Faculty Development Grant, and Lakes Region Arts Council-McKnight Foundation Career Development Grant, I was able to spend three weeks in and around Driggs, documenting my memories of the beauty of this valley.” Jim said,” One hope I have is to continue this personally work because I feel much of the beauty of this landscape will be taken away from future generations to visually enjoy if it's not recorded."
The other group of paintings in this show is a collection of imaginary scenes and abstract compositions created in oil pastels-the medium of Jim's art training. His intent with that body of work is to provide an opportunity to convey an evolving awareness and comprehension of the importance of our relationships one with another the places we find ourselves within. Jim has chosen the symbolic shapes of trees, buildings, walls and shadows and their relationship to one another to achieve a subtle spiritual narrative and a powerful visual impact. Atmosphere and mood create the psychological isolation associated within those compositions and enhance optimistic feelings of a world rich with beauty, warmth, comfort and opportunity.
"To me, these oil pastel paintings are more about mood and surface characteristics than the image itself. I want each painting to be visually stimulating from a distance, but as you move in for closer observation you discover the coloration of layers, scratches and marks within the surface that it becomes more engaging.” Jim said,” My painting technique creates a sense of rhythm, variety and interest, which remind me of life with its constant changes, gains and losses."
In a dramatic setting of no particular place, those images are rich in color, texture and surface and have an intimacy and luminosity that invite the viewer into Jim's paintings toward stability, optimism, light, and hope.
This exhibition gives students majoring in art a good chance to learn from other people’s works. It also brings both visual and spiritual enjoyment to people.
P.S. reporter: Ran Li
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Paintings 2007-2008
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Nike
(Acrylic)
Brenda Kohlman
Flower
(Charcoal)
Cherise Smith
Universe
(Acrylic on hardboard)
Cherise Smith
Dove of Mystery
(Acrylic)
Crystal Weller
Flame of Mystery
(Acrylic)
Crystal Weller
Rose of Mystery
(Acrylic)
Crystal Weller
The Korean Culture
(Acrylic)
Crystal Weller
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Photographs 2007-2008
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Lillies
Kaylee Johnson
Upside-Down
Audrey Schurr
Montana Terrain
Ashley Spieker
Multnomah Falls, Oregon
Ashley Spieker
Cote d' Eze
Dan Stanton
The Chicago
Choi Young Min
Untitled
Xiao Liang
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Short Stories 2007-2008
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The Royal Tenenbaums
By Steve Balsarini
(2001); Directed by Wes Anderson
INT. HOSPITAL EMERGENCY WAITING ROOM NIGHT
STEVE sits in a chair pressing a bag of ice wrapped in a towel to the side of his face, as activity of bustling E.R. unfolds around him.
STEVE (V.O.)
One would think that at this point, I would learn to keep my big mouth shut.
A NURSE walks to STEVE, hands him a clipboard with a pen attached to it with a string. STEVE smiles gently and politely thanks her, then grimly begins filling out the form.
STEVE (V.O.)
I have received more than my share of grief from friends, family members, and coworkers alike for my taste in movies. Most of the time I just remind them that at least I have some.
INT. PHARMACY DEPARTMENT OF KESSLER’S GROCERY
STEVE rolls his eyes as he listens to FEMALE COWORKER speak enthusiastically on telephone; FEMALE COWORKER notices; cheerfully admonishes him. STEVE returns her smile.
STEVE (V.O.)
My punishments are usually mild; being gently chided for rolling my eyes while overhearing a female colleague gush about whatever mindless, formulaic “chick flick” she and her girlfriends saw the previous evening on their “Girls’ Night Out”.
EXT. POST OFFICE DAY
STEVE tries to placate a large aggressive REDNECK.
STEVE (V.O.)
Sometimes, though, the penalties are more severe, escalating to near fisticuffs and accusations of disloyalty to the state (“What are you, a commie?!”)…
REDNECK grabs STEVE by the shirt, mouthing words “What are you, a commie?” in unison with V.O. Sensing the futility and danger of the situation, STEVE flees. REDNECK gives chase.
…as the result of stating my dislike for “World Trade Center”, and dismissing it as ham-handed propaganda.
INT. HOSPITAL EMERGENCY WAITING ROOM DAY
STEVE continues filling out form. He removes the towel, revealing a painful-looking black eye. He gingerly touches it and winces.
STEVE (V.O.)
It seems, however, that if I ever needed to be careful about what I criticized, I especially needed to be careful about what I praised as well. The consequences can often be just as, if not more, dangerous.
INT. RED ROOSTER COFFEE HOUSE LATE AFTERNOON
STEVE sits at table drinking coffee with THREE ACQUAINTANCES.
STEVE (V.O.)
I recently sat down at a local coffee house with several friends and acquaintances, and the topic of movies once again reared its ugly head. After a little good-natured banter over who was the better Bond (Sean Connery, of course), we started talking about our “All-Time-Favorites”. When it came to my turn, I paused, looked thoughtfully up toward the coffee bar menu, and said,
STEVE
You know, I really liked The Royal Tenenbaums.
The clank of silverware falling to the table is heard as all activity at the table stops.
STEVE (V.O.)
The rest of the table froze. They all seemed to slowly recoil, looking at each other with silent dismay. They then turned back to me, and then back again at each other, stupefied. It was as if they had actually heard me say, “You know, I really liked that ‘Mein Kampf.’”
FEMALE ACQUAINTANCE sitting across table glares at STEVE and clears her voice.
STEVE (V.O.)
KELLIE, the aforementioned chick-flick addict, seemed to be the most bothered among them by my statement. She was the first to speak.
KELLIE
(in a derisively challenging tone)
Yeah, I saw it. I didn’t get it.
STEVE (V.O.)
The others, in silent agreement, all seemed to nod almost imperceptibly to each other as they turned toward me in unison, awaiting my response.
STEVE clears his throat, and hesitates.
STEVE (V.O.)
Common sense and decorum would normally have caused me to simply demur mildly at that moment with a passive chuckle and feign interest for the rest of the evening as the table discussed the relative merits of gravity-defying light-saber fights versus the poignant and moving love soliloquy Keanu Reeves delivers to finally win the heart of the heroic, strong-willed, modern woman. Unfortunately, this would not be the course of events that this particular evening would take.
STEVE looks at the others assessing their expressions; his face takes on a look of determination.
STEVE (V.O.)
Inexplicably, I chose to throw caution to the wind that night, and decided to defend my choice with all of the ferocity with which it had been assailed. If I had ever felt any ambivalence toward “The Royal Tenenbaums” before that moment, that ambivalence was now gone.
KELLIE leans in over the table, grinning in anticipation.
STEVE (V.O.)
I now LOVED this movie, and I would be damned if I was going to sit there and let anybody, least of all “Chick Flick Kellie”, malign what might now be, at least to me, the greatest motion picture ever made. Kellie had made a terrible miscalculation, and it was now time for her to pay.
STEVE returns her challenging smile with one of his own.
STEVE (V.O.)
First, I would describe how, from the very start, the structure of the film, as it organizes the story into chapters, punctuated by the narration of Alec Baldwin -ironically, probably his finest work – and it’s funny, too – I don’t normally like a lot of voice-over narration, makes it possible for us to appreciate fully the odyssey of Royal, the patriarch of the Tenenbaum family, and his exceptional, albeit presently troubled children: Chas, a financial genius; Margot, a highly praised playwright; and Ritchie, a tennis superstar, all fallen upon hard times. We see them struggle, fail, struggle again, and finally find some sort of fulfillment. It is truly an epic journey.
STEVE continues to stare blankly into space.
STEVE (V.O.)
I would then describe how painfully well written and developed the characters are, each with his or her own distinct talents, terrible weaknesses, and difficult challenges; how the cast, a group of freakishly talented actors, breathe life into these characters while allowing their own celebrity personas to disappear completely within them.
The others hesitate uncomfortably and look at eachother, wondering what to do next.
STEVE (V.O.)
The script’s themes – early promise and unfulfilled potential, loneliness, shame, unrequited love, regret, redemption, and acceptance– are universally accessible and speak directly to the heart. At various times in all of our lives, we have felt as these people have felt, and we ought to be fascinated when the mirror is held up before us so uniquely.
KELLY observes STEVE’S stupor, and stifles a small giggle.
STEVE (V.O.)
I could already hear her sneering her complaints. “People don’t act like that; People don’t talk like that! Nothing happens! They don’t do anything!” To that I would only need to say that it is that very restraint and formality in the action and dialogue that makes the story so effective. We are allowed to be moved by the power of the words; they are never diminished by any ridiculous “over-the-top” performance. Jim Carrey would never get within twenty miles of a Wes Anderson set.
One of the others gently taps STEVE on the hand, and softly calls his name. STEVE does not respond.
STEVE (V.O.)
Add to that the amazing cinematography, replete with montages and slow zooms, the marvelous sets and costumes, the quirky New York City landscapes, and top it all off with an incredible music soundtrack, and only a Neanderthal could miss all of the beauty and charm in this film.
STEVE stares contemplatively at KELLIE; she now appears at table dressed as a cavewoman.
STEVE (V.O.)
I thought briefly about that car insurance commercial with the cavemen, and for just a moment pictured Kellie, with a gigantic unibrow, protruding teeth, and a bone through her nose. Hmmm. The time for her come-uppance was now at hand.
STEVE snaps to, draws a breath, and confidently begins to speak.
STEVE (V.O.)
I never did get to defend The Royal Tenenbaums to these people. Rather than going directly into my arguments, AS I SHOULD HAVE DONE, I decided to start with a vaguely glib insult, saying something about…
STEVE
(Directly to KELLIE)
Pearls before swine.
STEVE (V.O.)
…making sure to say the word swine just as my eyes locked with Kellie’s.
KELLIE starts with shock; a look of extreme anger descends upon her face.
STEVE (V.O.)
Understanding my intent perfectly, her eyes flashed with rage, and she shrieked,
KELLIE
(Shrieking)
Did you just call me a pig?!
KELLIE stands up, her gesture sending the chair flying. She then screams as she flings her porcelain coffee cup at STEVE’S head. It lands with a precise thud.
STEVE (V.O.)
Cursing like a sailor, she then flung the entire contents of her Grande Mocha Frappucino all over my face and chest.
STEVE howls in pain, wipes his face, and presses his hand over his eye, as he moves toward the door.
STEVE (V.O.)
I remember as I sheepishly walked out the door, amid the jeering and laughter of the entire room, covered in coffee, chocolate and milk, hearing a pleading voice in the back exclaim desperately,
VOICE
“Oh, come on, don’t you get it?! They’re snakes…ON A PLANE!”
STEVE stops in his tracks, turns in the direction of the voice, rolls his remaining good eye, shakes his head, and EXITS.
THE END
What's Wrong
By Arielle Young Bear
I sat on the park bench just outside the Elementary school waiting for my little brother. I always used to sit here, even as a kid. I'd try to solve all the problems in my world, and sometimes even in the entire world but I never got too far. Even now, sitting here on this bench, I try to find the solutions to the problems that my ancestors faced; the loss of self. Well, their problems were forced on them, but my excuse is inheritance.
"Arie, what's wrong"
In the midst of extensive thinking, my little brother comes out of the blue and sits down by me.
I think to say, I'm hurting, and I've been hurt for what seems like forever, and IHS Ibuprofen just doesn't do the trick anymore. And sometimes, when I actually sleep, I dream about everything wrong and I wake up crying, and continue crying knowing it will never change, and is not promised to change. Sometimes the pain feels like going for a while without food or water, and sometimes that's why. No one is promised tomorrow, and in these times, I don't think you're even promised the next hour.
I think to say I'm sorry because I should be more of a sister to you, but I'm more like stranger because I keep to myself all the time. I should tell you what's going on, but I don't want you to think I'm weak, because I'm not, I just don't know how to do what it is I need to do sometimes.
I think to tell him keep you're head up, and don't grow up too fast. I have aged so much within the past couple of years, and even more in the past couple of hours, and the minutes slowly ease the days away, and the seconds tick into your next thought.
I should tell him about keeping promises and dreams alive. But maybe I'm not the one to be telling him those things because mine died just after I realized the world is full of liars and unkept promises. Maybe I should let let my mother, who's lied her way through life, tell him of theses things, or maybe I should let my father, the crazy, hysterical tell my brother of promises and truth. Because if it's one thing my father knows is about truth, and the deep lack of it that he has, because maybe when you know you are missing something in your life, it just means that much more to want it, or need it.
I think to tell him I'm lost, and if he knows how I can get where I'm going, if he even knows where that is, or even if he can tell me where to go, because when you're young you think you have the entire world figured out, but then you realize you don't even know yourself, and you become a prisoner of your own thoughts and your goals become mandatory because that's all you ever knew.
"Nothing is wrong" I tell him. "Come on, let's go home"
Because sometimes a lie is better than the truth.
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Poetry 2007-2008
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The Cogs of Life
By Nick Blazer
Chronos marches on unnoticed, casting a shadow upon creation.
The wind mourns fiercely; Atropos has severed yet another thread.
The light wanes as a pale crescent ascends into the heavens.
The once radiant inferno, now weakened, retreats into horizon.
Gaia, now bathed in the lunar shadow, withers away,
But even the mighty grip of Thanatos cannot subdue the great Wheel,
For the fiery chariot endlessly will reclaim the skies with brilliance
And in the warmth, Gaia will once again return from peaceful slumber
The Pigs are All Lined Up
By Nick Blazer
There is a pervasive sameness
A dulling in the colors around me
Repetition in a sense of black and white
A collective surrender to the powers that be
The drones, they march onward
Like ants in a line
Seeking nothing, following blindly
A complete lack of motivation and individualism
Every day we organize ourselves more and more
A hive mentality of the highest order
Achromatic
By Lisa Bowman
Yesterday was a great day.
I can’t wait until tomorrow.
But today?
I could do without.
There’s so much that I would take back
And just as much I’d leave behind
But everyday I wish that
There was no such thing as time
The most insured thing in life is change.
That means that nothing stays the same
That means that things will remain
As more things will be gained
If yesterday was black
And tomorrow will be white
Then all it is today is gray
We have nothing certain to say.
Embrace the black
Anticipate the white
Gray will blend
And life will mend.
Endless Time
By Lisa Bowman
Yesterday and today
makes no difference
past, present, future
histories and mysteries
now and then or later
young and old are stories told
by each clock's chime to measure time
that was then, this is now
I know now, but wonder how
what it's about
from night to day
the silenced say
the world's the same
either way
sunset, sunrise
we live, we die
we fail and try
again and again
yet never win
the battle of time cannot be tamed
the measure of life cannot be named
for time is nothing but a game
we cheat, we steal
we hide, reveal
we run but can't escape the deathful state
our wretched fate, the unknown shape
that will erase all time from life
and life of time
for all is just a rhyme
repeating itself line
by line
until the end starts back again
where it began
this endless time
Inspiration
By Lisa Bowman
brushstrokes rushing through my veins
colors swirling in my head
going more insane
from the words that you have said
lightening the pressure
with moments getting bolder
freshening the picture
as images get older
covering the canvas
making points across the page
screaming "I CAN'T STAND THIS"
dredging timing age
studying reflections
silent recognitions
drifting into dreams
writing words to sing
and to be sung
when the right time comes
capturing the moments
the drive inside of me
like
climbing shapeless mountains
jumping off of unmarked cliffs
only to fall
into the fountain
of expression
my motive to live
Faith of the Heart
By Craig Bradney
Long roads,
Stretching out beyond all sight.
Long nights,
Spent cold and alone.
Wishing for more,
To feel completed.
Having to wait,
For time to pass.
Needing the feelings,
To hold on to what is true.
Clinging to what the heart feels,
And believing it every day.
Holding close,
To those feelings.
Dreaming of the day,
When things will be perfect.
Wishing for more,
Knowing it cannot be yet.
Dreaming of the day,
When one dance will cement it all.
The Highway
By Craig Bradney
A lone figure emerges,
Boots awash in dust.
Walking from within the ruins,
Of dreams once coming true.
The lost soul is what he looks for,
A never-ending search has begun.
That fateful journey,
The traveler never dreamt he’d make.
Each and every day,
The lone man walks on.
Never finding rest,
Always on the move.
The one thing he desires to find,
Always seems to elude him.
Sometimes he will catch a glimpse,
And then he finds the image to be nothing but an illusion.
At long last he discovers,
For all the effort has been for naught.
The traveler stops,
For he sees the road has no end.
Sarah Eppen Drumbeats
Drums begin to beat,
sounding the rhythm known
since the beginning of time.
They grow louder until
my bones vibrate
with the rhythm.
I cannot tell if the music
is real or a product of imagination.
I look up towards the sky, and
stars pulsate, changing
colors so rapidly that my
head spins as I watch.
The stars dance to the music,
stopping when it stops.
The drums continue to pound
inside my head – a rhythm
only I can hear after
that last drink.
I turn to you
By Kaylee Johnson
Whenever I need a friend…
I turn to you
and you assure me you are to the end.
Whenever bad things come my way…
I turn to you
and you make my troubles go away.
Whenever I frown…
I turn to you
and you turn the frown upside down.
Whenever I don’t feel right…
I turn to you
and you guide me through the night.
Whenever I feel I can’t go on…
I turn to you
suddenly those feelings are gone.
Whenever i just need to talk…
I turn to you
and you say “come let’s take a walk”
So no matter where life takes me to…
I’ll turn to you
and I know I’ll make it through.
Sheila Loebs Evan James
A new baby's life
Is like the start of a tale,
Whose trials and adventures,
Only time will unveil.
Before you imagine,
What his future will bring,
Stop for a moment,
And consider one thing.
If we are measured,
By the lives we touch,
For one so small,
He has accomplished so much.
He gave a young lady
A new title to flaunt.
She was once just a sister,
But now she's an aunt.
His parents have parents
To give them a hand.
Because of him,
We now call them grand.
Some were grandparents
Long before that date;
The day he was born,
He made them great.
Without even knowing
What he had done,
He made a father
Of another man's son.
He touched one life
More than any other.
He is the miracle
That made her a mother.
Sonnet 25: Autumn’s Fall
By Amanda Newharth
There are splashes of color ev’rywhere:
Beauty and peace surround me on all sides:
It’s so perfect I can’t help but to stare
As an eagle over my head now glides;
My gaze follows him into the sunset.
The soft scent of flowers enters my nose
As the final flowers of spring are met
With a crisp chill as an autumn wind blows.
The hum of insects form a melody
That blends with the twittering of the birds.
I’d float away if my heart would let me.
To do this scene justice there are no words—
The stars begin to twinkle up above
The only thing I’m missing is your love.
Sonnet 4: Childhood
By Amanda Newharth
My entire life I have wished on stars.
Following rainbows to find pots of gold,
Fantasies of travel in those fast cars:
Such silly dreams don’t go far I’ve been told.
As a girl I was allowed to pretend:
Being an animal was just a game.
But now since I have grown such things must end.
Why can’t everything just remain the same?
Mommy’s kisses that had healing powers
Warm cookies that chased away my troubles.
Riding in tractors with daddy for hours,
Turning cartwheels, then off to chase bubbles.
Loving so freely-like everyone should
If only I could have stayed in childhood.
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2007-2008
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Ran Li - Jim Park's Exhibition in President's Gallery
Music
Northern Lights had received one submission for this category from Joshua Oliveira (producer) performing Set Me Free, but the link has sense then been disconnected.
Photographs
Johnson, Kaylee - Lillies
Schurr, Audrey - Upside-down
Spieker, Ashley - Montana Terrain - Multnomah Falls, Oregon
Stanton, Dan - Cote d'Eze
Xiao Liang - Untitled
Young Min Choi - The Chicago
Short Stories
Balsarini, Steve - The Royal Tenenbaums Screenplay
Young Bear, Arielle - What's Wrong
Website Compilation
Editor: James Ingram
Web Designer: Dan Stanton
Original Web-site: http://www3.northern.edu/northernlights/index.html
