All the news that's fit to print

First, you must all know my bias:

-- I have a degree in journalism.

-- I worked for a newspaper up until the day my first child was born.

-- I am working for a newspaper now that my youngest child is twenty-something.

-- I start every day reading a newspaper.

Second, you should know why I believe newspapers are the best place to get the news:

-- They select the news based on its substance, not its video.

-- House fires and car accidents are on B3 rather than being the lead stories.

-- You can choose which articles and/or sections to read in detail and which to skim.

-- You get more than 3 minutes per story.

-- Two words: Local news.

--More words: City council meetings, school board boundary decisions, high school football games that you think might not be interesting but that should be. As well as the stuff we all know everyone reads: murders, violence, arrests. Plus the features on latest studies, successful students, awards, and on and on and on -- every day.

-- The ads are less intrusive and can be easily avoided.

-- Reporters don't have to be cute.

-- Less pervasive teasers.

-- More in depth information -- and you choose how much you want to know of each topic.

Finally, you should know that I consider one of the biggest tragedies of this economic turndown and electronic upswing the loss of so many newspapers.

We need the news. We need to know about what the city council is doing and what new businesses are in town and what's happening at the high school.

We need reporters. They'll tell you the things the government won't volutneer in case we might object. Permit me a common feeling held by members of the press: they're the fourth estate. They keep watch over the other three.

We need newspapers. We need to get more than the ranting of pundits on cable and the joking of comedians on the network and the rudeness of anonymous posters on the Internet.

If you agree with me on any point, please consider:

-- Subscribing to a newspaper.

-- Buying something from someone advertising in the paper and letting them know you saw the ad in the paper (yes, it comes down to money).

-- Paying for the news you read on-line when asked.

You'll be glad you did. We all will be.


(Pictures above are from some World Ward II editions of a newspaper in Kaysville that went out of business years ago.)

Feeding the soul

I hate to call them weeds. They're too pretty. But they do live at the side of the road and I kind of doubt anybody planted them and I'm right sure nobody tends them in any way.

You don't have to go far, whether in winter or summer, to find beauty. It's there after a snowstorm, it's there in a frost, it's there in a sunrise or after dark.

And it feeds the soul. If you stop long enough and let it.

I like to let it.

Exploring

It hasn't changed with the new generation.
The preference remains the real over the artificial.
Just feet from the plastic toys and child-proof books, the tree and its colors and smells and prickliness and dangling ornaments is the most fascinating.
And that's good.
Unless you get to the dirt in the flowerpot before grandma does. And get the dirt into your little mouth for a taste before grandma washes your little fingers.
Still, it's gotta be how we know textures so well. When we see dirt, when we see the branches of a tree, we know how they feel, how they smell and how they taste because once we were almost one and touched and tasted them.
And hopefully our mother said something like "so we're one with the earth, are we?" to forgive our grandma.

I'm all for the real.
For the national parks. For the family gatherings.
For limiting screen life.
For talking rather than watching.
For the exploring and hiking. For the touching and tasting and living and experiencing.
There may be prickliness, there may be dirt, but that's the real stuff of life.
Reach for it.

Something new

For the third time in my almost four years at the gallery, we just held what we call our "out-of-the-box" challenge.

As you might guess, it's a charge to break out from the normal routine and try something new.

My friends at the gallery bring a new dimension to my life. The way they see things in the world and find beauty in the grand and the miniscule, in color and in value, are just a few of the ways they open my mind.

One of our founders, a sweet, dear woman, told recently of how she was cleaning her stove top but had to stop because the designs made by the cleaner and the dirt were so interesting she had to get her camera for a picture.

Some people think out of the box all the time.

So, as before, this month's challenge found one who usually works in two dimensions trying something in three. One who normally paints in precise detail tried something impressionistic, a pastel artist tried spray paint, a oil painter applied a smashed soda can to a worn board.

I tried painting.

And it was pretty scary.

Here's what I started with:
And before I show you how it ended, let me just say I know.

I know I'm not going to be an artist with a paintbrush. I was always in music classes and didn't even get the training that most people got in junior high and high school.

And I'm not patient.

And I'd rather be doing other things.

Like taking pictures.

But I'm still glad I tried the challenge.

Because now I know how hard it is to mix the right color. How hard it is to get the right angles and capture the right feeling. How hard it is to get the brush to do what you want it to do.

Now I know how hard it is to put something out there that you gave your best creative juices to and have people analyze it or criticize it or walk by it.

Now I know why great art is so great.

Just so you'll know:
And when you're through laughing, just let me say that doing something out of the box -- taking a different route, trying a different flavor, excercising a different muscle -- is a great way to start a new year.

It opens your eyes. It makes you glad for people who do things better than you do. It makes you appreciate things you hardly noticed before. It makes life even more interesting.

Gifts

One of the great gifts in life is people.

They don't come brightly wrapped in packages with ribbons and bows, but they are gifts just the same. And when one takes time to get to know what's inside the packaging they do come in, life becomes richer in many ways.

This Christmas included time with people who are interesting and funny and who are leading lives of worth. It also included correspondence from people I haven't seen in ages but still admire and still want to learn about.

Each person is a book. Each brings experiences I'll never have, but can learn from through the things they share. Each conversation is like reading another chapter and brings a new way of seeing into my life, making it richer and fuller.

All my love to all who have shared a part of themselves this Christmas. To the friend I first met in 1980 who took the time to e-mail, to the former neighbor who shared her husband's frightening diagnosis, to the ones who traveled in difficult circumstances to get here -- love and thanks for who you are and what you share. You are my gifts.