November 2014 (15)
We probably all have personal signs that tell us, yep, the season has changed. For me, fall begins when I wake up, look west out my bedroom window and see in the distance the Oquirrh Mountains. They are my joy and inspiration through all the leafless months, disappearing when summer encases my house in a storm of apple, apricot and box elder leaves. Hello, Oquirrhs! Today is the first day I'm seeing you.
It's Thursday night, jazz night, at the Garage on Beck. Despite the bar's location on the industrial north side of Salt Lake next door to the fiery plumes of the oil refineries, and the fact that it's still a work night, a healthy gathering of people have come out for a drink. The group is half millennials and half baby boomers, though they're not really mixing. Hugged up to the bar next to the stage, a half dozen grey and balding heads nod in time to the sound of jazz guitarist Corey Christiansen. Out back on the patio, the younger crowd gathers around the fire pit to chat. For the younger patrons Christiansen's music appears incidental, perhaps even unnoticed.
Until the 1970s, the chakras were little discussed, mostly mysterious wheels of energy ascribed to ancient yogic traditions. Since first learning about them in the 1970s, Anodea Judith has made teaching them her life's work. Her book Wheels of Life: A User's Guide To The Chakra System (1987, revised 1999: Llewellyn Worldwide) sold more than 250,000 copies. She calls them portals between the physical and spiritual planes that humans can harness to manifest the lives we want to live.
Throughout the State of Utah, monuments from Temple Square to Delicate Arch remind us of Utah's grandeur and dominion. Now, thanks to a fruitful collaboration between Traverse Mountain Outlets and the Yesco Sign Company, we have one more icon to celebrate. Standing over 100 feet tall and signaling the entrance to (brace yourself) Utah County's first outlet mall, is a sign so large, it dwarfs even the Colossus at Rhodes. Literally: by two feet.
The woman was screaming. I was nine years old, and it was about 2:30 in the morning. I had never been up at that hour before, and I had never heard a human being make sounds like this woman was making. We went out onto our back patio, which looked up onto an apartment block behind our house. A woman in a third floor apartment had the window open, and her leg was slung out over the ledge.
The Utah Ecopsychology Project’s conference.
—Sophie Silverstone, Alice Toler, Naomi Silverstone