The Pioneer Spirit of Jennette Evans
(Imagine for me what the responses would be if Brigham Young is speaking in our day instead of the century he lived.)
Bringham Young-Good people! Gather round! I have an announcement for all the faithful within sound of my voice. We can no longer remain in Nauvoo lest our enemies destroy us all. The time has come to load our wagons, gather our families and strike out across the wilderness for the Promised Land…
- Brother Brigham? Brother Brigham? Could you, like, get to the point? I don’t want to rush you or anything, but my show’s coming on in ten minutes…
BY-um, yes … the Promised Land! We must find the place which God has prepared, where none shall come to hurt or make afraid. There shall the Saints find rest.
- You’re not saying we have to move or anything, are you?
- If I have to change schools now, I’ll just die.
- Are we gonna have to go all the way across the river? Can’t we just commute?
BY-We must take our meager substance and go far across the wilderness, where we can build the city of Zion! We shall…
- Hold the phone, hold the PHONE! You mean, like, WORK?
- With our HANDS?!
- Great. Do you have any idea how much I spent on this manicure?
BY… We shall move with haste! Take only that which is essential for the journey …
- Do I hafta ride with my parents?
- Brother Brigham? Does the promised land have broadband? ‘Cause I don’t see how you can call it the “Promised Land” if they don’t have broadband.
BY-We must be prepared to be long on the way, through the snows of winter and the heat of summer…
- I don’t go ANYwhere without air conditioning.
- AND a CD player in the wagon.
- Are you gonna provide GameBoys? How about some new cartridges? I’m tired of the old ones.
BY-We will tread the wilderness sod and the mountain snows…
- And ruin my Nikes, that’s what we’ll do!
- Hey, I don’t wanna be gross or anything, but are there, like, restrooms on the plains?
- Am I gonna get stuck in the dweeb wagon?
BY-We must move with haste! Make ready!
- I’m not crossing no plains in last year’s waon. Can we wait for the new ones to come out?
- Can we go after the prom?
- How early do we have to get up? I’m a night person. It’s biological.
- When are our breaks?
- How much do we get?
- When do we get paid?
BY-Let us go forward! We must… we must… Oh, forget it.
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Does it ever seem to you, as it sometimes does to me, that the American pastime has shifted in recent years from baseball to whining? How often have you heard these, and not just from youth?
- It’s too hard
- I don’t have time.
- I can’t do it.
- I just don’t want to.
- It’s not convenient.
- I’ve done my share, now I’ve earned a break.
- You owe it to me.
Never have we lived more comfortably, with more recreation, more entertainment, or higher quality of life. Yet never has a nation more wallowed in self-pity. Here we sit, living a life of luxury our ancestors couldn’t even dream of, and we complain that it isn’t better. Why?
The Church is in a period of accelerating growth. Did you know that we are the seventh-largest denomination in the United States right now (1993)? There are more Mormons in America than there are Presbyterians, twice as many Latter-day Saints as Episcopalians. And we’re gaining. If present rates continue, we will soon be adding one million members every year.
Now, where will the leadership come from to minister to all those people? Brothers and sisters, it will come from you, here, in this room, and many others like you. But you can’t do it if you aren’t prepared!
I foresee an interesting future, occupied largely by carping couch potatoes flicking through 5,000 channels and playing through their 6,000 video games and complaining that they’re bored. Then there will be those who pick up the spoils, so to speak, those who are strong and prepared to lead, who will literally have the world at their feet. But they won’t do it without effort, without sacrifice, without inconvenience, without shutting off the TV and the stereo and making something of themselves. They won’t do it without learning some self-discipline.
Is that a word you hate? You certainly hear it often enough! “Learn some self-discipline!” Well, I won’t shout it at you like that. But I will tell you, as a friend who has been down the road just a bend or two ahead of you, that aside from the Holy Ghost, self-discipline will be your greatest friend in this life. There are those within the sound of my voice who, if they cultivate it and become masters over their own selves, will literally rise up to change and bless the world.
Contrast today’s attitudes with those of a girl named Jennette.
The fashions and poses of 19th-century portraits often seem unflattering to us today. But the surviving pictures of Jennette Evans are a striking exception. With her flashing dark eyes, high cheekbones and delicate features, she seems more princess than pioneer. It is easy to imagine her gracing the courts of kings, jewelled gown sweeping about her as she dances and curtseys. But sadly - or perhaps fortunately for us - Jennette’s life was far from the fairy tale you or I might have wished for her.
At six, she left home forever. With her parents, who had been baptized shortly after she was born, she set out from her cozy little Welsh village to join the Saints in far-off America. Their trip across the ocean was hardly a Princess Cruise. It lasted months. In those days before refrigeration, the cuisine on board left much to be desired. All drinking water for the journey had to be brought in wooden barrels. By the fourth or fifth week at sea, the water would be covered by a thin coat of green scum, which one would have to push bak with a dipper in order to get a drink. Even then, it was a good idea to to look too closely at what you were drinking, for much of it wriggled. The threat of disease in such crowded conditions was ever-present. Many families saw children and other loved ones buried at sea, left behind without marker or memorial.
But Jennette and her parents made it through that arduous trip, and through the even harder trek across the plains to Deseret, where they settled in Ogden. Such was the childhood of lovely little Jennette Evans.
You or I might have wished for Jennette carefree teenage years filled with girlfriends, gossip, dances and flirting. But life on the frontier was a notorious thief of youth. At the tender age of sixteen, Jennette married and soon started a family. Her honeymoon retreat was a log cabin in a remote mountain valley, and her honeymoon was spent spring plowing and planting. She would go through the wrenching, helpless pain of watching a child die, and then go through it again. She herself would leave this life at the age of 54, too young even in those days. But through it all, she raised up four sons and four daughters, and she touched the world in a way that affects every one of us here today.
Mission calls were handled differently in those days. Missionaries were usually called as mature men, already with families and home responsibilities. Furthermore, the calls came without warning. And at the destination there were no mission presidents, no elders waiting to convey the new greenie to his waiting apartment and companion. Missionaries travelled alone, without purse or scrip, fending for themselves in remote areas far from Saints and loved ones. Worst of all, the missionary never knew if he would be away from home for two years… or three… or five… or more. He served until he was released.
So perhaps you can understand why Jennette’s husband received his mission call with dismay. He had a farm to tend to, children who depended on him, and a wife who was again with child. His friends told him, “You simply cannot do it.” His neighbors said, “The Lord would understand.” One evening, as he gazed out at the fields waiting to be plowed, the animals needing to be tended, the barns and other buildings in need of seemingly constant repair, he shook his head. Turning to his wife, he said, “Of course it is impossible for me to go.”
Jennette simply said, “Show me your call.” He handed her the letter. She sat down and read it through once, then again. She lifted her noble, intelligent eyes and waited for her husband to meet her gaze. Then, with both gentleness and power that could not be ignored, she said, “Of course you must accept. You need not worry about me. David and I will manage nicely.” David was her oldest son. He was eight years old.
On 19 April 1881 Jennette stood in the morning chill and waved farewell to her husband as he departed for distant Scotland. Ten days later, she gave birth to a little girl.
The following years were not easy. There were sorrows and illnesses, trials and troubles, and always work, work, work. Through it all, Jennette never complained. Her son later said of her, “I cannot think of a womanly virtue that my mother did not possess. … She was beautiful and dignified. Though high-spirited, she was even-tempered and self-possessed. Her dark brown eyes immediately expressed any rising emotion which, however, she always held under perfect control.”
She insisted on accepting a disproportionate share of the farm work so that her boys might remain in school. With the help of local priesthood quorums, the grain was planted and the family managed to harvest a good crop.
Then disaster struck. Prices fell so low that they could not sell their grain without losses they could not afford. Jennette and her little family faced almost certain ruin.
But Jennette was made of tougher stuff than that. With financial sense that would do a Wall Street banker proud, she announced to her surprised family that they would not sell the grain, but store it away. That meant borrowing just to stay alive through the winter, with no guarantee they could ever pay the money back. But, bolstered by their mother’s faith and confidence, they did just that. The next spring, they were able to sell the grain at a handsome profit and the farm was saved.
The years passed, and one day Jennette’s husband received his long-awaited release. Quickly he sent word that he would be coming. Then began the seemingly endless journey across the Atlantic, and then across the American continent itself.
As the miles clicked by, he was surprised to find himself apprehensive. Jennette’s letters had been cheerful and reassuring. But how had she been, really? What if all the farm work had broken her health, or worse, her spirit? What state would he find his home and farm in? Would his children recognize him? Would they remember him? What if they resented his absence? What of the child he hadn’t seen? She would be walking and talking by now. What if he frightened her? What if she didn’t want him in the house? What if, what if, what if.
At last, at long last, the train wheezed into the Ogden station. Soon there were greetings and loving arms and kisses all around, and Jennette’s lovely, confident, flashing brown eyes smiling into his… and he knew that he was truly home.
With her arm in his, Jennette showed her husband around the farm. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Everything was in order! The buildings looked firmer and fresher than he had ever known them. The rich acres of grain and alfalfa waved in the wind. Why, Jennette had even built an addition onto the house!
That evening, the children gathered at their father’s knee and asked about his mission. Had he witnessed any miracles, one bright-eyed child wanted to know. He smiled softly, put his arm around his wife, his dear wife, and said, “Your mother is the greatest miracle that one could ever find.”
Jennette Evans McKay’s influence was not lost on her son. As he grew, he watched her and admired. Years later he would credit her love and influence with turning him from temptation, and with stirring in him a desire that all homes could be as loving, as ordered, as celestial as his own. For little David grew up to become the prophet David O. McKay, the author of our Family Home Evening program today and widely recognized, even outside the Church, as a great strengthener of families.
Austria
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Monday, November 23, 2009
Have you ever been so scared you thought you might die of fright?
Or experienced any of the following symptoms of a Phobia?
(From=http://www.medicinenet.com/panic_disorder/article.htm#1whatare)
-“Racing or pounding heartbeat; chest pains; headache and feeling like there is a tight band around your head; sore eyes; dizziness; light headedness; nausea; difficulty breathing; a need to escape; stomach upset; a sense of feeling smothered; tingling or numbness in the hands; dreamlike sensations or perceptual distortions; terror: a sense that something unimaginably horrible is about to occur and one is powerless to prevent it;…. Usually combined with sensation called Panic Attack which typically lasts for several minutes, is one of the most distressing conditions that a person can experience, and its symptoms can closely mimic those of a heart attack. These attacks are a serious health problem in the U.S. At least 1.7% of adult Americans, or about 3 million people, will have panic attacks at some time in their lives, with the peak age at which people have their first panic attack (onset) being 15 to 19 years. Another fact about panic is that this symptom is strikingly different from other types of anxiety; panic attacks are so very sudden and often unexpected, appear to be unprovoked, and are often disabling.”
I have! I became aware of the cluster of symptoms in high school whenever I was asked to bring a food item to something, or was asked to cook for anyone other than my immediate family. I didn’t realize it at the time but I had the phobia of “fear of cooking for people.”
For example, when I was 16 I volunteered to host a group dinner date. From the time I volunteered to a few days after the event I had the above list of symptoms. Though I thought it would be fun to have 8 couples come to my home and have a fun dinner before going to the high school’s girl choice dance it made me sick. And I know my date did not have much fun with me. It was our one and only date.
Thankfully I did not experience the Phobia symptoms when I worked in Food Services. And I knew I wanted to marry my husband when I realized I was never uncomfortable cooking for him. The blessed relief of being able to cook for someone I was dating caused me to shower him with food gifts. And invite him over for meals frequently.
I found being a member of a socializing church, where the requests to take a meal to another family and to contribute to group dinners a frequent challenge and really stressful.
I had dreams of the woman I wanted to become. A fabulous hostess that cooked up feasts and created a loving welcoming atmosphere for her guests.
In 1987 I began more earnestly praying about my phobia. I wanted to get rid of it. I wished to no longer be a sick and miserable hostess.
I formulated a plan: I would invite someone over to eat in my kitchen once a month. The meal could be as simple as heated Campbell’s soup. Then I would have the guest sign my tablecloth, which would be a record of my completed goal. And I would pray fervently for the Lord to grant me courage. And I would display the table cloth where I could see it every day to remember I was going to conquer my phobia or die trying.
Soon after I wrote down my plan we received a phone call from a friend. “Could he come stay with us over the Christmas break.” My heart went into supersonic speed and I wanted to say no!!!! But he had let us live with him when we were homeless. And had been so nice and wonderful, that of course we said yes, and I became sick and very prayerful. I was sure his visit would certainly kill me. (I got through the week because thankfully he ate most of his meals while he was out sightseeing.)
His was the first signature on our table cloth. And three years later after much discomfort I realized I was “not dead yet” AND the phobia was completely gone, and I had signatures for every month of those three years.
It was after I was cured that I finally realized where the phobia had come from. It was “emotional transference” from traumatic childhood experiences.
Last year I retired my table cloth. And began a new one. I am thankful that My Lord inspired me with do-able goals to overcome a debilitating phobia. And I rejoice in the calmness and peace I feel each time we have guests over for dinner.
(From=http://www.medicinenet.com/panic_disorder/article.htm#1whatare)
-“Racing or pounding heartbeat; chest pains; headache and feeling like there is a tight band around your head; sore eyes; dizziness; light headedness; nausea; difficulty breathing; a need to escape; stomach upset; a sense of feeling smothered; tingling or numbness in the hands; dreamlike sensations or perceptual distortions; terror: a sense that something unimaginably horrible is about to occur and one is powerless to prevent it;…. Usually combined with sensation called Panic Attack which typically lasts for several minutes, is one of the most distressing conditions that a person can experience, and its symptoms can closely mimic those of a heart attack. These attacks are a serious health problem in the U.S. At least 1.7% of adult Americans, or about 3 million people, will have panic attacks at some time in their lives, with the peak age at which people have their first panic attack (onset) being 15 to 19 years. Another fact about panic is that this symptom is strikingly different from other types of anxiety; panic attacks are so very sudden and often unexpected, appear to be unprovoked, and are often disabling.”
I have! I became aware of the cluster of symptoms in high school whenever I was asked to bring a food item to something, or was asked to cook for anyone other than my immediate family. I didn’t realize it at the time but I had the phobia of “fear of cooking for people.”
For example, when I was 16 I volunteered to host a group dinner date. From the time I volunteered to a few days after the event I had the above list of symptoms. Though I thought it would be fun to have 8 couples come to my home and have a fun dinner before going to the high school’s girl choice dance it made me sick. And I know my date did not have much fun with me. It was our one and only date.
Thankfully I did not experience the Phobia symptoms when I worked in Food Services. And I knew I wanted to marry my husband when I realized I was never uncomfortable cooking for him. The blessed relief of being able to cook for someone I was dating caused me to shower him with food gifts. And invite him over for meals frequently.
I found being a member of a socializing church, where the requests to take a meal to another family and to contribute to group dinners a frequent challenge and really stressful.
I had dreams of the woman I wanted to become. A fabulous hostess that cooked up feasts and created a loving welcoming atmosphere for her guests.
In 1987 I began more earnestly praying about my phobia. I wanted to get rid of it. I wished to no longer be a sick and miserable hostess.
I formulated a plan: I would invite someone over to eat in my kitchen once a month. The meal could be as simple as heated Campbell’s soup. Then I would have the guest sign my tablecloth, which would be a record of my completed goal. And I would pray fervently for the Lord to grant me courage. And I would display the table cloth where I could see it every day to remember I was going to conquer my phobia or die trying.
Soon after I wrote down my plan we received a phone call from a friend. “Could he come stay with us over the Christmas break.” My heart went into supersonic speed and I wanted to say no!!!! But he had let us live with him when we were homeless. And had been so nice and wonderful, that of course we said yes, and I became sick and very prayerful. I was sure his visit would certainly kill me. (I got through the week because thankfully he ate most of his meals while he was out sightseeing.)
His was the first signature on our table cloth. And three years later after much discomfort I realized I was “not dead yet” AND the phobia was completely gone, and I had signatures for every month of those three years.
It was after I was cured that I finally realized where the phobia had come from. It was “emotional transference” from traumatic childhood experiences.
Last year I retired my table cloth. And began a new one. I am thankful that My Lord inspired me with do-able goals to overcome a debilitating phobia. And I rejoice in the calmness and peace I feel each time we have guests over for dinner.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
An Open Heart
I road home from Chorus in a Sokol marshuka, a small yellow van that holds 12 passengers. Once all 12 were seated we headed homeward. At our first stop a middle aged woman stepped on. She stood against the door trying to get her wallet out of her purse while maintaining her balance. (the driver had begun driving as soon as the door was closed.)The older woman sitting near her spoke softly to her in Russian.
Then she straightened out her coat, lifted her bags up against her chest and the new passenger placed her purse on her lap. Now that her hands were free she could zip open her purse, get out her wallet and find the 25 rubles she needed for her ride. After the wallet was returned to her purse, she lifted the purse off of her new friend's lap. Each woman turned away from the other to go back to being strangers. What a marvelous way to serve someone. I was deeply touched and reminded of my goal to have a more loving heart and look for ways to be of service.
Then she straightened out her coat, lifted her bags up against her chest and the new passenger placed her purse on her lap. Now that her hands were free she could zip open her purse, get out her wallet and find the 25 rubles she needed for her ride. After the wallet was returned to her purse, she lifted the purse off of her new friend's lap. Each woman turned away from the other to go back to being strangers. What a marvelous way to serve someone. I was deeply touched and reminded of my goal to have a more loving heart and look for ways to be of service.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Why do I want to do 50,000 push ups this year?
When I was 36 I managed to talk my doctor into getting my insurance company to authorize a bone density scan. Turned out my spirit guide had been right, I needed to know that I had the bones of a 50 year old. My legs and hips were okay probably a result of all my youthful dancing. Unfortunately my arms, spine and neck were severely osteopenic. I began exercising even more diligently than I had been. Three hours a week lifting weights, on “off” days doing push ups and lat raises and other exercises to strengthen the arms. I also increased my consumption of calcium rich foods. I was told that in order for calcium to actually strengthen bone mass exercise must be done. Otherwise the calcium might be deposited in soft tissue and organs.
Bone strength is usually directly related to muscle strength, which is why most men do not loose bone mass as fast as a woman. They have more muscle to begin with. My doctor told me that it is not uncommon for women over 30 to lose up to 1% of bone mass a year. Scary information for me to digest, I was only 36 and had the arms of a 50 year old and it could get worse.
Several years later my bone density was again scanned though on a different machine in a different country. I had increased bone density and lost some which resulted in about the same percentage as before. Frustrated I rededicated myself to diligent exercise.
Five years later the same machine scanned my bones and showed an increase in bone density of 5%!!! Wahoo! I had gained instead of holding steady.
They say there only two types of motivators in life, things you avoid and things you move towards. I developed a movie to play in my head when I was tempted to skip a workout. First I would experience being in a hospital bed, the sounds of the heart rate monitor, the feeling of dark hopelessness because I had broken my arms and back and therefore was incapacitated. I would feel significant pain from the broken bones and because I was thirsty and unable to get myself a drink of water. The room was dark because I could not reach the light switch. Then I would smash through that experience with a brilliant view of the mountains surrounding Garmish Germany and experience the pleasure of powering up the beautiful mountain trail with my children and Grandchildren. I can picture the wild flowers and the hay barns and gorgeous meadows because my children and I used to climb it. I imagine laughing and playing with my grandchildren and being an energetic vibrant example to them. With that image in my mind going to spend an hour on the weight bench seemed like a great investment of my time.
Now that I am in my 50th year of life I hope that my bones are younger than my age. And when younger woman ask me why I do Tae Kwon Do and push ups I tell them I am preventing broken bones and osteoporosis and investing in my unborn grandchildren.
Bone strength is usually directly related to muscle strength, which is why most men do not loose bone mass as fast as a woman. They have more muscle to begin with. My doctor told me that it is not uncommon for women over 30 to lose up to 1% of bone mass a year. Scary information for me to digest, I was only 36 and had the arms of a 50 year old and it could get worse.
Several years later my bone density was again scanned though on a different machine in a different country. I had increased bone density and lost some which resulted in about the same percentage as before. Frustrated I rededicated myself to diligent exercise.
Five years later the same machine scanned my bones and showed an increase in bone density of 5%!!! Wahoo! I had gained instead of holding steady.
They say there only two types of motivators in life, things you avoid and things you move towards. I developed a movie to play in my head when I was tempted to skip a workout. First I would experience being in a hospital bed, the sounds of the heart rate monitor, the feeling of dark hopelessness because I had broken my arms and back and therefore was incapacitated. I would feel significant pain from the broken bones and because I was thirsty and unable to get myself a drink of water. The room was dark because I could not reach the light switch. Then I would smash through that experience with a brilliant view of the mountains surrounding Garmish Germany and experience the pleasure of powering up the beautiful mountain trail with my children and Grandchildren. I can picture the wild flowers and the hay barns and gorgeous meadows because my children and I used to climb it. I imagine laughing and playing with my grandchildren and being an energetic vibrant example to them. With that image in my mind going to spend an hour on the weight bench seemed like a great investment of my time.
Now that I am in my 50th year of life I hope that my bones are younger than my age. And when younger woman ask me why I do Tae Kwon Do and push ups I tell them I am preventing broken bones and osteoporosis and investing in my unborn grandchildren.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Things I learned in Judge training school.
Photo taken at Semi-final round of Radio 3 Choir of the Year Contest.The Assistant Musical Director of the White Rosettes wrote this outstanding article. She did a much finer job then I could do so I have copied her article into this blog. It explains why we are all so excited about their scores this year.
From Jo Braham –
This month I thought I’d share some golden information about A-Scoring. A place where we have now consistently found ourselves! And what a place it is to be! The steps within this area (81-100) are far harder to climb than the steps found within the B-Level and lower, but what a journey we can take in constantly striving to provide an artistic, emotional, ‘from the heart journey’ for our listeners, whether competition or not, our songs should aim to achieve these levels. So not wanting to take anything away of course from our fantastic achievement, you can see here where our journey begins to take even greater shape. Are you on board?
MUSIC Category
249
Average 83.0
Auld Lang Syne
248
Average 82.6
Let Yourself Go
The A level
a. A-level scores (81 to 100) are given to excellent performances that feature the hallmarks of the barbershop style and display the most consistent musicality. There are very few distractions.
b. A performance earning a mid-range A score (around 90 points) features an outstanding mastery of the musical elements, resulting in an excellent performance. The harmony is wonderfully consistent, ringing, and pleasing, reflecting excellent intonation and proper balance. The embellishments artistically support the song’s theme. The delivery is marked by superb musicality. The musical elements are executed with great accuracy. The song is sung from the heart and its theme is communicated throughout, resulting in the listener’s total involvement. There are almost no distractions. The music is extremely well suited to the performers.
c. The rare and significant artistic performance at the upper range of A displays consistently artistic embellishments in support of a continuous theme presented with the highest degree of musicality.
d. In a performance at the low end of the A range, occasional distractions can occur. The performers’
technique may be somewhat distracting and the display of musicality somewhat inconsistent.
e. Distinguishing differences between A and B levels often have to do with consistency and sensitivity of performance.
PRESENTATION Category
252
Average 84.0
Auld Lang Syne
251
Average 83.6
Let Yourself Go
page2
The A Level
a. A-level scores (81 to 100) reflect outstanding levels of entertainment resulting in totally appropriate and believable emotional effects. Emotions are presented believably and the audience has totally bought into the emotional impact of the performance. There are no significant traces of artificial or unnecessary
embellishments.
b. To achieve an A score, only the total effect must be judged as A. The vocal and visual components may or may not both be of A quality depending on their relative importance to the overall effect.
c. The upper range of A scores is assigned to very exceptional achievements. There are no discernible flaws and the applicable adjectives are all superlatives: superb, exquisite, breathless, captivating, hilarious, overwhelming, deeply moving, etc.
d. The mid-range A score is given for presentations that exhibit unyielding excellence. The listener is
normally unaware of the vocal and visual techniques employed; he or she is caught up in the artistic effect of the total presentation. The presence of “star quality” is unmistakable.
e. At the lower end of the A range, the feeling of excellence is definitely present, but some minor
interruptions are felt.
f. Traits that distinguish between A and B levels of Presentation relate to the presence of subtlety and artistry. The A score implies an extremely high level of consistency in the generation of emotional impact – there are almost no distractions. In summary, the A score denotes excellence as opposed to competence.
SINGING Category
251
Average 83.6
Auld Lang Syne
251
Average 83.6
Let Yourself Go
The A level
a. A-level scores (81 to 100) are given to performances of the most consistent artistic Barbershop singing.
There are very few distractions owing to lack of singing skill; rather, the focus is primarily on artistry.
b. A typical performance earning a mid-range A score (around 90 points) features few, if any, intonation errors, excellent vocal quality, consistent unity, consistent expansion of sound, and an overall perception of expression and artistry that transcends technique.
c. A performance at the upper range of A would likely be a rare and significant artistic experience for any
listener, possibly transcending measurable elements to define its success. Performances in this range need not be flawless, as flawless performances can actually draw attention to the technique. Rather, there is no
perception of technique, only the artistic result.
d. In a performance at the low end of the A range, an occasional technical distraction can occur. The performer may show great skill but the "technique is showing." The performer may be inconsistent, having phrases of higher A mixed with phrases of a lesser level.
e. The distinguishing difference between A and B levels is often the perception of artistry as the combination of great skills into one transparent whole.
The White Rosettes overall score:- 1502 - which equals a percentage of 83.4
Jo
Monday, November 9, 2009
one of the great things my husband did to strengthen our marriage.
I brought a bad habit into my marriage; the occasional use of the “you are really stupid” tone of voice. I did not use it often just when I was sick or frustrated or hungry. My almost perfect husband could have reacted defensively or counter attacked or yelled at me. Instead he would grab me into a big warm loving bear hug and say “I love you and please do not speak to me in that kind of voice.” Notice he did not say “I love you BUT” which would have negated the words before. He used and.
Sometimes I would make the mistake of using a disrespectful or insulting tone of voice when speaking to him in front of other people. Like the time I was pregnant and feeling really lousy and my parents and brother and sister were visiting. And I answered a question of his in that “I can’t believe you asked such a dumb question” tone of voice. As soon as breakfast was over and everyone scattered to their various tasks and we were alone he pulled me close to him, looked me in the eye, and said “when you said ‘*****’ it embarrassed me and your family and made our children uncomfortable. I know you aren’t feeling your best and would you please make an effort to remember I am your best friend and we do not speak to each other in that way.” Then he gave me a big hug, I hugged back, apologized and promised I would do better and we went on with our day.
I would like to think I am completely cured of this bad habit. I know speaking to everyone in a respectful tone is what my Big Brother Jesus would have me do. I am really grateful for my husband’s patience in this area and many others. His consistent “tough love” has made our marriage a beautiful loving relationship. And I know if I ever goof up I will have my best friend loving me and helping me do better.
Sometimes I would make the mistake of using a disrespectful or insulting tone of voice when speaking to him in front of other people. Like the time I was pregnant and feeling really lousy and my parents and brother and sister were visiting. And I answered a question of his in that “I can’t believe you asked such a dumb question” tone of voice. As soon as breakfast was over and everyone scattered to their various tasks and we were alone he pulled me close to him, looked me in the eye, and said “when you said ‘*****’ it embarrassed me and your family and made our children uncomfortable. I know you aren’t feeling your best and would you please make an effort to remember I am your best friend and we do not speak to each other in that way.” Then he gave me a big hug, I hugged back, apologized and promised I would do better and we went on with our day.
I would like to think I am completely cured of this bad habit. I know speaking to everyone in a respectful tone is what my Big Brother Jesus would have me do. I am really grateful for my husband’s patience in this area and many others. His consistent “tough love” has made our marriage a beautiful loving relationship. And I know if I ever goof up I will have my best friend loving me and helping me do better.
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