Archive for the ‘Wellness & Life Balance’ Category
Thursday, August 9th, we have an exciting activity with Lorri Castro-Zenoni, our very own Director of Health and Wellness Services. She has put together a great program and menu to share with us as we enjoy the last days of summer on the Student Event Center patio from 3:00pm-4:30pm. Come hungry because we will be serving fresh grilled vegetables with olive oil and lemon pepper and fresh fruit with crystallized ginger and a pinch of sugar with ice cream or yogurt. You don’t want to miss this activity. RSVP today to Ashley Sokia at ashley.sokia@slcc.edu.
What books have influenced you? What would we find on the bookshelf of your home?
Share one or two books that have been particularly notable, and why they were significant. Perhaps books you continue to remember time and again. Any personal or professional topic works, it could be beneficial to another member.
Karen Jorgensen recommends Swim with the Sharks Without Being Eaten Alive by Harvey Mackay. Karen says,
“I recently read this book on a recommendation from a friend. This easy-read is filled with ways to make yourself be remembered. Through experience and stories, he gives tips on building client relationships in the business world. Some of his clever ideas may seem common sense, but stuck in my mind long after setting it down.”
The Salt Lake Community College Chapter of the American Association for Women in Community Colleges is pleased to invite you to our Miss Representation Screening & Panel Discussion. The screening is free and open to the public on a first come, first served basis.
April 20, 2011 from 2:00 – 5:00 PM
The Grand Theatre – SLCC South City Campus
1575 S. State Street Salt Lake City, Utah 84115
1:30: Doors Open
2:00: Welcome by AAWCC SLCC
2:15: Film Screening (85 minutes)
4:00: Panel Discussion
5:00: End of Event
About the Miss Representation:
Newest Miss Representation Trailer (2011 Sundance Film Festival Official Selection) from on Vimeo.
Miss Representation explores women’s under-representation in positions of power and influence and challenges the limited and often disparaging portrayals of women in media. Writer/Director Jennifer Siebel Newsom brings together some of America’s most influential thought leaders in politics, news, entertainment, and academia, including Condoleezza Rice, Katie Couric, Geena Davis, Lisa Ling, Marissa Mayer, Cory Booker, Jean Kilbourne, and Jackson Katz, to give us an inside look at the media’s messaging. As one of the most persuasive and pervasive forces of communication in our culture, mainstream media is educating yet another generation that a woman’s primary value lies in her youth, beauty and sexuality—not in her capacity as a leader. Miss Representation premiered in the documentary competition at Sundance Film Festival.
Sponsored by:
Southern Utah: Diplodocus was Here
By Alison McFarlane
Original Article on TangoDiva.com
I live and love the legend and lore of the American West. Cowboys thrill me, Indian culture captivates me, prehistoric life intrigues me. Craving hot hiking trails and blazing fiery sunsets, I journey deeply westward whenever the long weekend, spring break, summer escapade or winter doldrums hit.
Cedar City, Utah is home to the Tony-award-recognized Utah Shakespearean Festival. The festival is grand and the town is quaint, which is reason enough to venture to the pioneer outpost situated four hours south of Salt Lake City and two hours north of Las Vegas. However, as worthwhile as a few nights with the Bard was, my good fortune led me to a little known loop east of Cedar City. Following an ancient trail, the road ribbons through the dense red rock of Cedar Canyon, continues to the splendid Parowan Canyon and ends at the ancient and remarkable Parowan Gap.
Starting under a blue western sky, I climbed nearly 3,000 feet to the top ofCedar Canyon. High atop the mountain, puffy white clouds turned gray, the wind whipped up and a storm was a brewin’. The car’s outside temperature gauge had registered a perfect 78 degrees when I set out, dropped to 48 degrees. Encapsulated in the gray cloud, I postponed a planned hike. Perched on the monument’s edge peering into the canyon below, I was reminded of Silly Sand, a craft toy I had as a child that piled dot upon precarious dot of sand to see how high you could build a spire or a hoodoo (a natural column of sand or rock). The precipitous white, pink, red, vermilion rock of Cedar Breaks has all been spectacularly carved and shaped by wind and water.
With the scurry of the day’s storm, I had witnessed the unpredictably fierce power of wind and water. After the storm dumped a showerhead full of rain, it receded. As the sky cleared I came upon the striking legend that is “the American West.” Like the Marlboro Man in an off-road prairie, a cowboy was herding his flock of sheep under the unsettled sky. He sat high on his horse, hat firmly in place and swept from one side of the herd to the other. An earnest sheep dog performed his same task. I stopped the car to absorb the scene as the animals crossed the road in front of me. The dog herded, the sheep plodded, the cowboy tipped his hat, and the big,wide, wonderful West mosied along.
Next appeared the pop-up ski village of Brian Head. A rustic pizza joint, ski and rental shop, and general store make the resort a winter ski and summer mountain bike destination for Southern Utah, Las Vegas and California adventurers. At 9,600 ft, the mountain side is filled in with a surprising number of condominiums, lofts and cabins for overnight and multiple day vacations.
Continuing on the loop road was the hamlet called Parowan that may be famous for something other than Hamburger Patty’s — a lunch and dinner dive — but that was plenty of fame for me. Served up by a seasoned tattooed gal who left mainstream living decades ago, the joint was clean and cozy in that long, lost, small town way. With just the right amount of kitsch in the decor and cheese on the burger, I’d make the trip all over again just for this stop.
The canyon road descent ended on the floor of the sun-scorched desert. Squinting through the sun’s rays and engrossed in the ancient language – pictographs (painted) and petroglyphs (carved) of the early inhabitants – I had reached Parowan Gap. Cut by an ancient (now dry) river thousands of years ago, the gap was a passageway to the Red Hills.
The Parowan Gap petroglyphs, discovered in 1849 by the Parley Pratt expedition, are a dense gallery of cliff art including the “Zipper” — thought to be a numeric calendar. Unlike many petroglyph sites in Southern Utah that exhibit humans and animals, the Parowan glyphs are primarily geometric — believed to be used for measurement and calculation. Other carvings may be a legend of water pathways as the ancient peoples traveled through the gap for their seasonal harvest.
The Parowan Gap holds more treasure than rock art, though. It was here, after years of hiking Southern Utah, that I saw my first dinosaur track! And it was a doozy. Traveling with a former geology major from Southern Utah University, I was directed to a large boulder with an unmistakable and remarkable protrusion. I have always believed that dinosaurs roamed the earth, but this was literally first-hand proof. I imagined it to be a diplodocus, but someone more versed in ancient life on earth would have to confirm. The track was a gigantic hand or foot and extended beyond the location of a wrist or ankle bone. Perhaps it was unusually hot after the storm, maybe I was a wee bit dehydrated, or I might have been hallucinating from my hamburger patty, but standing at that site with the embedded track I could see dinosaurs roaming the earth. My car had disappeared, the storm and sheep rustler were distant memories, and I could see a family of plant eaters walking through the desert in search of the gap to make their way to the Red Hills of Southern Utah.
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Alison McFarlane travels every day. Some days farther from home than others. She keeps a bag packed with three perfect black outfits at the ready for the next amazing adventure. Home is Salt Lake City, but mind and heart make her a citizen of the world. She reads, writes and dreams about globe-trotting experiences.
10 Ways to Celebrate ”National Arts & Humanities Month”
(http://www.artsusa.org/get_involved/advocacy/nahm/default.asp)
October is National Arts & Humanities Month across the U.S. For starters, here are 10 ways to celebrate….then post a comment to add your own ideas below
- Put your art on the fridge—at home and at work.
- Make music, give music, compose music, and dance in your living room…. or as you walk across campus.
- Visit Now Playing Utah for great ideas on events to attend across Utah that feed your artistic soul and fit your budget: http://www.nowplayingutah.com/
- Keep arts coverage alive in Utah & post a comment on an arts story on your local paper’s website: http://ut-cultural-alliance.blogspot.com/2010/09/how-to-keep-arts-coverage-alive-in-ut.html
- Support emerging artists of all ages —-visit an artist on campus, at a local gallery or farmers market, and listen to the story of their life and work.
- Thank your favorite teacher….with a phone call, note, or a contribution in their name: www.slcc.edu/givenow
- Donate art supplies to your favorite school, senior center, family shelter, or your favorite Sub-for-Santa Program.
- Re-read your favorite book, and give a copy to your local library or women’s shelter. (What book got you hooked? Composing a Life by Mary Catherine Bateson? The Creative Habit by Twyla Tharp? Art & Soul by Pam Grout ? Or…?
- Art heals: donate some favorite art & culture magazines to your doctor’s or dentist’s office.
- Fuel your imagination: subscribe to enews from www.utahhumanities.org , www.utahculturalalliance.org or “15 Bytes E-zine” at www.artistsofutah.org. Then go out and make some news of your own.
Southern Utah, USA: In the Desert with the Stones
By Alison McFarlane
[flickr]photo:4777346309[/flickr]
Original Article on TangoDiva
There I was — alone in the desert with the Stones. When my son announced he wouldn’t spend his college spring break at home, I was filled with unseemly glee at the prospect of a solo season-opener. Yearning for wicked adventure without much time, Google quivered to a full stop at Red Mountain Resort and Spa end-of-winter specials. I threw my bike in the car, and headed south, sight unseen, just five iTunes hours from Salt Lake City straight down Interstate 15.
Red Mountain Resort and Spa is heaven-plunked in the middle of the windswept, fiery, red rock landscape of Southern Utah. Undetectable on approach, and ten minutes west of the quintessential tourist town St. George, Utah. Adobe casitas pepper the vast grounds including lodging, indoor pool, activity and health and fitness center, restaurant and conference center, retail outfitter shop, and an out-of- this-world spa. Lodgings are identified by animal name (“rabbit” dwelling sits next to “turtle” but far from “hummingbird”) and tuck like ancient Anasazi cliff dwellings into a landscape drama of immense sandstone cliffs, giant rock stars and bulging boulders.
Titled “A Top Destination” by Fodor’s Choice, “camp” at Red Mountain Resort centers around inspiration, health and fitness and adventure. And it gives you choices- mix and match your activities. Daylight will keep a guest hopping like the ever-present desert jack rabbits from yoga, pilates, tai-chi on the rocks and fitness lectures and classes, or dominating one of the sturdy, inviting hammocks around the landscaped grounds. Daily morning hikes begin at 8 a.m. to revel in cooler temperatures and nearby canyon breezes. Hikes vary from “a Wal-Mart saunter,” (one retired archeologist guide’s description) to cliff climbing at nearly breakneck pace. Beware, or at least be prepared, for the daily challenge hike.
Excursions to nearby Zion or Bryce Canyon National Parks satisfy panorama lovers looking for photo ops — or new climbing trails in Technicolor-classic spaghetti Western movie locations. Or join an uber-brave group bound for Snow Canyon State Park for an introduction to volcanic boulders, desert solitude and mountain biking (bikes provided).
Returning to the spa at day’s end, sated adventurers soak in refreshing indoor or outdoor pools, or spill stories with other campers in one of three whirlpool/ hot tubs (wildlife sighting: sunbathing desert lizards alongside the shrubs near the hot tub. Harmless but surprising).
Red Mountain’s Canyon Breeze dining room — named among the Top Spa Cuisine in Destination Spas by Conde Nast Traveler — offers peaceful solo dining or a group table every evening. Subdued earth-baked orange, red and golden hues cast a serene ambiance. My new rock star pals — Jagger and Richards — seemed lost somewhere in the desert, so on the first evening I chose dining alone to read and reflect. On following nights I joined up with fellow hikers: mother and daughter spring break campers, and men from Chicago and New York who traded 50 weeks in a cubicle for two weeks without walls in the wild, wild West.
Meals were buffet-style for breakfast and lunch, and by reservation for dinner. The dining room spilled onto a flagstone wrap-around patio shrouded by steroid-sized yucca plants and junipers preparing for gin making season. There is no sweeter music than water in the desert, and beautiful carved stone fountains provided a natural symphony during meals — and a refreshing mist as the desert breezes shifted. Healthy living classes and events, including cooking demonstrations and nutrition assessments round out food and fitness for the oh-so-conscientious guests. Me? I passed on the evening nutrition lectures to linger with a second hard-earned glass of Chardonnay.
After two full days of physical activity, I lifted my gams just far enough to reach the spa. Flintstones meet fabulosity at the Sagestone Spa. Housed in an dome-shaped structure resembling Fred and Wilma’s Stone Age home, the spa is the perfect antidote to days chock full of mind and muscle-stretching hiking, biking, yoga, conditioning and climbing. There is a reason the root word of treatment is treat, so choose wildly from an array of delicious, deliberate beauty and body offerings. Chocolate, mint or juniper body wraps, pearl facials and multiple massage options — even hot stones therapy — carry guests from rugged to radiance in half the time it takes to hum a few bars of “Satisfaction.”
Red Mountain Resort was voted best “Spa for Traveling Solo” by Spa magazine. It is located in Ivins, Utah (300 miles / 5 hours from the Salt Lake City airport and 120 miles / 2 hours from the Las Vegas airport). For more information visit: www.redmountainspa.com
See more reviews: Red Mountain Spa, Utah: Head North to the Sun! By Robert Painter or Red Mountain Spa, Utah By Sharon Spence
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Alison McFarlane travels every day. Some days farther from home than others. She keeps a bag packed with three perfect black outfits at the ready for the next amazing adventure. Home is Salt Lake City, but mind and heart make her a citizen of the world. She reads, writes and dreams about globe-trotting experiences.
[flickr]photo:4778004112[/flickr]Yesterday, AAWCC was graced with great food and cooking tips from true Italian, Dr. Loredana Haeger in the Miller Campus CART demonstration kitchen. Dr. Haeger and her husband demonstrated how to select ingredients and prepare delicious Pesto Genovese, named for an area of Italy known as Genoa, and Bruschetta. The finished products were shared with everyone present. Among the tips that were shared with the group, Dr. Haeger stressed the importance of fresh ingredients and genuine cheeses, even if it takes a little bit of searching.
[flickr]photo:4777371125[/flickr]
Pesto Genovese
2 cups fresh basil leaves
∏ cup of (extra virgin) olive oil
2 Tablespoons of pine nuts
2 cloves of garlic, lightly crushed and peeled
1 teaspoon of salt
∏ cup of freshly grated Parmesan cheese (Parmiggiano Reggiano)-not from a canister
2 Tablespoons of freshly grated Pecorino Romano cheese
When the ingredients are evenly blended, pour into a bowl and blend in the two grated cheeses by hand. Cook pasta until you can see a small dot of white when you look at the edge. Pasta will continue to cook after it is removed from heat. Before spooning the pesto over pasta, add to it a tablespoon or so of the hot water in which the pasta has been boiled.
Another tasty snack from Loredana:
[flickr]photo:4777368351[/flickr]
Bruschetta
Choose bread that is “crusty,” such as the type that you can buy as Costco or at Harmon’s in the bakery section—the healthier kind is multigrain or whole wheat, but if you cannot find it, you can use a French baguette. Slice the bread and toast it in a toaster oven. Then, once it has been toasted, add a little extra virgin olive oil, then slice some fresh Mozzarella (the best type is mozzarella di bufala, though it is quite expensive and hard to find—I have seen it at Caputo’s), the add a slice of fresh tomato, then top it with a little salt, a fresh basil leaf, and then some balsamic vinegar. In the winter, when I cannot find fresh basil, I add a thin layer of pesto on the bread and then add a thin layer of pesto on the bread and then add the mozzarella and tomato. This dish is a very delicious and healthy snack that can be served as an appetizer or as a midday snack.
Tucson, AZ: Savoring the Sizzle of the American Southwest
By Alison McFarlane
[flickr]photo:4777346309[/flickr]
Original Article on TangoDiva
I’m a desert rat. I love dry heat, hot salsa and icy margaritas. I just spent a sizzling 72-hour summer weekend exploring Tucson, Arizona and all of the above delicacies.
I picked up the scent of deep, rich, dark-roast brew the first morning. Raging Sage, an independent coffee joint, provided the day’s caffeinated jump-start. On a shaded patio packed with sunscreened Tucsonians, I savored their heavenly brew with a fig and apricot scone chock full of morning-picked, sun-ripened fruit in a delicate sugar pastry.
Next was a brisk tour of downtown Tucson to feast my eyes on the sun-baked adobe hues of salmon, ochre, umber and the red tiles of desert architecture. Born a rugged pioneer town, the “Old Pueblo,” was transformed by the arrival of the railroad in 1880. A lingering sensation of historic events, drama and outrageous characters still smolders under layer upon layer of the town’s Native American, conquistador, missionary, military and Wild West influences.
Near Armory Park, I was drawn to the St. Augustine cathedral. Simple and austerely beautiful by design, and lush in its desert-surrounded grounds, the cathedral honors the patron saint of Tucson. Every Sunday morning a mariachi Mass signals devotion and celebration. The cathedral was built in 1896 in Romanesque Revival style, but the facade and towers were rebuilt in the 1920s and given a Spanish Colonial Revival look. Saguaro, yucca and the horned toad trees are silent companions to St. Augustine’s bronze statue.
I was drawn west of downtown to Iron Horse Park, a redeveloped former rail yard with picture-perfect xeriscaping, playgrounds and big, rust-hewn iron sculptures left from rail yard days. A serpentine walking and biking path led me to the spectacle of Rattlesnake Bridge. The pedestrian/bicycle bridge spans a six-lane highway leading into and out of downtown Tucson. Entering the path through the rattlesnake’s mouth, or fangs to be exact, I walked the innards of a not-so-dangerous diamondback rattlesnake. Hmmm … so this was the belly of the desert beast? Constructed of silver metal mesh (the eyes light up at night), the bridge ends with the snake’s enormous tail at a 90-degree angle to the pathway. The bridge is described by Roadside America.com as “abstract enough not to be horrifying.” Hint: walk straight for his tall tail and listen carefully; a mechanized rattle is triggered by motion.
The temperature was mounting toward three digits and it was time to find a slushy citrus margarita or frosty peach iced-tea in the Lost Barrio warehouse district. Tucked just 3/4 mile from downtown, I found refreshment and eye candy in this rejuvenated string of quirky worldly furniture and curio shops. There were cowboy boots, Kachina dolls and Mexican blankets in a few shops – estate furnishings, Chinese antiques, Italian pottery and linens from India in others. Smaller retail shops and bistros were tucked into secret corners. The strand of cavernous warehouse structures provided hours of sun-free browsing in cool shops to satisfy even the most robust quest for Southwestern souvenirs or world-wide timeless treasures.
Downtown and the Lost Barrio districts were holiday-weekend quiet; Saturday afternoon and evening crowds were found in the heart of the University of Arizona neighborhood. Thrift stores meet Urban Outfitters, and tattoo parlors nestle alongside college bookstores and trendy bars. The district’s buzzing street life amplified in direct proportion to the temperature. Co-ed clothing, on the other hand, was discarded with each rising degree.
After my retail neighborhood stroll, I was famished for natural wonders and headed to Tucson’s signature Saguaro Forest in the valley’s western hills. Following signs to Grant’s Pass, the road curves and undulates to an outlook point with sweeping views of the four mountain ranges that hug Tucson tight (Tucson, Santa Catalina, Rincon and Santa Rita).
Saguaro cacti danced across the desert finally bumping into the mountains to the west. In early summer, the stately cacti resemble string-bean-tall men commanded, “Put your hands in the air!” Their blooming flower tops looked like outlaws’ hats jauntily cocked to the sun. It’s possible to hike in and around the forest but, like all outdoor activity in sunny Tucson, the smart time to visit is early morning or dusk.
My final evening in the desert I joined friends at a locals-favorite authentic Mexican restaurant, Teresa’s Mosaic, standing stately on a west hills bluff. As the sun began to set in tones of glowing orange, I considered ordering a second succulent, spicy burro to soak up every drop of jabanero salsa on my oversized platter. With chiles hotter than the sole-searing heat waves off the pavement, tart lime that shifted my mouth from a smile to a puckered kiss and tangy coriander met in a marinade that turned Teresa’s man-sized burros into a sizzling “ay caliente!” entree. Throughout dinner, I was torn between the spectacular Tucson Valley view from the patio and the one across the restaurant where the master chefs (cocineros) were spinning fresh, made-to-order tortillas. After enjoying one (or two – I can’t recall) fresh burros, I ordered a dozen hot-off-the-griddle tortillas “to go” as a gift for friends at home. The next morning as I savored the last of the fresh, mouth-watering corn cakes for breakfast, I decided to instead give my friends a small framed photograph of Tucson’s desert cacti. I never could be trusted to deliver edible mementos.
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Alison McFarlane travels every day. Some days farther from home than others. She keeps a bag packed with three perfect black outfits at the ready for the next amazing adventure. Home is Salt Lake City, but mind and heart make her a citizen of the world. She reads, writes and dreams about globe-trotting experiences.