May 2013 (15)
Alice Toler's mind is a deep-thought generator. Give her a shadow of an idea and within minutes a compelling, artistically lit reality hovers in 3-D. (I've noticed this skill in art director Polly Plummer Mottonen, too.) What began as a Facebook chat about alternative uses for trampolines last month became "Breaking News—an Attractive Nuisance: Turn off the tube and go clean out the gutters" in this issue.
Colorado River most endan- gered; Herbert nixes West Desert water grab; Bishop pro- poses public lands dialogue; Willard Bay oil spill; ALEC: Get the public out of public lands; SLC Green Bikes; Park City to ban plastic bags?
—by Amy Brunvand
CATALYST interns Lacey Kniep and Jayne Ann Boud put out the word that CATALYST was looking for marriage advice from our readers. You responded, and they put together the results!
The wilderness art museums of southern Utah's canyonlands offer the best of two worlds: the physical exhilaration of a great hike and the mental stimulation of meeting unusual works of art. No matter how much time one spends in the presence of prehistoric rock art, like any other art, it is never enough to comprehend its complexity. Even studying photographs after a visit, one's attention is dominated by imposing elements of the composition.
Spread out on my kitchen counter, a bowl, bag of bread flour, salt, glass of tepid water, and jar of pasta madre (sourdough starter), vie for space among cocktail glasses and half-empty food plates. I shout over the noise of conversation: "Pour in your madre, weigh out 400 grams of flour and 300 grams of water." Only a handful of people in the room gather close to watch my demonstration. It is an informal classroom.
You stroll through the sliding glass doors and fumble for the grocery list at the bottom of your reusable bag. Immediately, you have the sense that something's different in this store. Friends told you that would be the case. You can't put a finger on it, but, yeah, something is definitely different here.