Living Traditions Festival

I went to the Living Traditions Festival in downtown Salt Lake this previous Sunday. There were plenty of things going on to stimulate you visually, like the lacework. When I watched the woman working it seemed like she chose random strings of lace to twist around pins and other pieces of lace, but she knew what she was doing. This sort of thing became less profitable after the industrial revolutions, but maybe that's for the best. Although things weren't being created by artisans, at least more people could afford them. 

I thought these flowers were so vibrant. They are made from paper and come from Mexico. I've never thought about how ruffling paper in just the right way could make it look so realistic. I like to fold origami, but with that medium the emphasis is more on minimalism than realism. They had some folded cranes for sale in the little market, but seeing as I could have folded some for free I declined to buy any. 

The next booth we checked out was filled with crafts from Peru. Most of the objects here looked to be made of clay but they were much lighter than they should have been. There were tiny boxes that opened to show various biblical scenes. I think the forms were created out of flour and water, but I'm not sure how the miniscule figures were made. No doubt this guy had a steady hand in order to paint the little people inside this box.  

I liked these eggs-quisite creations (I couldn't resist). I don't know exactly where this art comes from because I think the sign only mentioned that it was from Europe. So, white people did it. I think it would have really showed that white people made these if they used the egg white and yolk to make an egg salad sandwich. I love those things. We tried to talk to the woman at this booth but some guy was hogging her time. He kept mentioning a "missionary" special, whatever that means. 

And, here are some carved fruits from the Thai booth. These almost looked like wax and the scent they gave off was delicious. I am in full support of art you can eat, so I enjoyed this booth. They must have done something to the watermelon because I think it would have gotten all goopy if they had just carved without any sort of hardening agent. 

Along with the booths, there were plenty of booths with food from around the world, as well as dancing. Those capoeira dancers were pretty hot. I was kind of confused though because I thought it was a fighting style but they just seemed to be dancing with each other. They could probably kick someone's ass if they wanted to. It was nice to see people learning about other cultures, especially non-white cultures. Exploration is wonderful. 

For the First Time in Four Years

I didn't run the Salt Lake 5k. It felt very weird (other-side-of-the-fence weird) to watch the long stream of runners as I waited for a gap to drive through. I would have considered signing up but I just forgot about it. Now I miss the unique feeling of running alongside thousands of other people down the barricaded roads to the end. And what a beautiful day for it too. Argh.

I guess I'll have to train for the Arts Festival 5k in June. It'll be hotter then, but if I start now it won't be too bad. I can redeem myself, and retain my label of "runner". 

The Dead Man's Plants

I had this excuse that I couldn't write in here if nothing interesting happened in my life. This worked until now. I've got many things to write about. 

Someone killed himself in my apartment building a few months ago. I was at work when it happened.  I received a torrent of text messages. They all asked me if I was okay and where I was and if I had been taken hostage. It shocked me to receive them, and I was completely confused. I learned from my roommate that someone had taken himself hostage in the apartment building. The entire building had been vacated and police had blockaded the street. 

I was relieved that my roommate was not in danger, but I wondered who the hostage was. I only know a few people in the building and I couldn't imagine any of them doing something like this. About an hour before I was leaving to come home (or as near to it as I could get) I received news that the man had killed himself. 

It was hard for me to feel anything but confusion. Everything had happened very fast. When I learned that the man who had died wasn't someone I knew I felt further relieve. It was the kind of relief you get when you know you have no connection to the problem. But I knew someone else must have been horrified by the news. 

When I got home the scene was quite calm. The place felt very eery. Broken glass glittered on the asphalt underneath the apartment and a chair held open the back door. There was no one around. As I looked up into the apartment where he had died, it looked very dark. It looked empty, vacant. 

It has been odd how quickly the man's death has been rolled over by time. The next day someone came to clean the apartment (which must have been awful; he killed himself with a shotgun) and the apartment is now for rent. I don't know if the owner is required to disclose the death at all to prospective tenants. These things made me feel like this man's death was inconsequential. We all live the same lives here that we did before. Someone will move in, put up pictures and arrange furniture, and they will probably never know about the death. I guess I'm forgetting the man's family, they probably think about his death, but I wonder how long it'll take before they forget too. 

The man killed himself because he violated parole and didn't want to go back to prison. He was a sex offender. He wasn't dying for any noble cause, and he wasn't a victim. He died because he thought it was better than living. Maybe he wanted to be forgotten.