It's exhilarating. Sometimes it's almost like flying, with wind whipping through my hair and the feeling of weightlessness. I'm really not a roller coaster kind of person-- I dislike that the thrill and danger are out of my control.
Very little hand-eye coordination required. Cool weather. Enough said. It's the sport for me.
The serenity is overwhelming, in a good way. The deafening sound of crunching powder, the roar of the wind, and the mechanical hum of chairlift motors seem to expunge my worries, temporarily. The scenery is incredible too: the sapphire sky and blindingly white snow dotted with evergreens, and the occasional view of the great Lake Tahoe.
I love the way he juxtaposes everyday objects in a way that creates an uncomplicated yet special piece of art. A yellow smiley face adapted from the popular LEGO man adorns a sleek motorcycle helmet, almost as if presented in a completely serious product advertisement. The plastic eyes on the teddy bear jacket may be a bit creepy, but the idea is lighthearted, fun, and surely unique.
Errazuriz has also undertaken urban art projects that carry more meaningful themes, ones with ethical and political significance:
A cow was saved from a slaughterhouse and now lives atop a 10-story building in Chile.
A magnolia tree symbolic of peace was planted in the center of Chile's National Stadium, the place where dictator Augusto Pinochet tortured prisoners a few decades ago. The field was opened temporarily as a park, and "a cathartic soccer match was played before 15,000 people, with the tree in the middle as the closure of the piece."
I'm currently scrambling to find matching socks, packing my toothbrush, and stuffing my suitcase in preparation for a trip to Lake Tahoe, for which I am already an hour late. If I manage to get internet connection at the hotel, I'll be making some hasty posts between skiing and dining. If not, well, I'll return in four days.
Being a Harker student, I traveled to Arizona with my class for the 7th grade trip, where we rode a bus for hours through desolate stretches of desert, hiked for miles between columns of red rock, and endured blazing sun and swirling dust. This arid state also happens to be the home of my birthplace. Yes, I lived the first year of my life in a place where 100 degree weather was considered moderate, where javelinas and jackrabbits ran freely around the neighborhood, and where cacti lined the walkway to every door on the street.
Sure, the climate is harsh, but I still love this place. In fact, I associate countless fond memories with the school trip. We told scary stories as we rattled along an incredibly bumpy dirt road on a Jeep tour. We saw the one and only McDonald's with turquoise arches, designed to complement the landscape of Sedona. We made brief pit stops at western-style diners where we wore feather headdresses and reenacted historic battles. All this and several guided tours through breathtakingly magnificent national parks. I remember this experience as one of the highlights of middle school-- as educational as it was exciting, it was truly a memorable one.
The hike through Bryce Canyon left me speechless with wonder (and exhaustion)
Students inch down a hill of red rock on all fours in Monument Valley
Yesterday, I cut about 20 stems of these lovely flowers from my backyard and arranged them in a crystal vase. After some intense Google-ing I learned flowers of this variety are called geranium tazetta daffodils.
Placing the bouquet on my desk was probably not a great idea, for the eye-catching spots of color and sweet, somnolent aroma are quite the distraction from homework.