And all the trees in the field clap their hands.

Hope everyone is enjoying their weekend. Its a beat sheila!

Okay well I'm not an Aussie, but I am hoping for Australia like warmth, because it still is a bit cold--but granted it is February. Though the groundhog's calculations of the prolonged winter hopefully were a bit skewed and biased--he was probably just lazy and wanted to stay in the ground a bit longer.

I mean if I was a furry hairball, I don't see why not either. But I'm human, and that in the winter involves lots of coffee drinking and pale skin. Though I like the whole pale skin thing, I might try and not buy that tanning lotion thing this spring and embrace the paleness. As I should learn, my friend Mary calls me Orange-utan when I put on the sunless tanner haha, it goes with my hair and freckles at least. Oh us blessed Irish. We may have pale skin...but at least we can handle our liquor?...

I am writing up a storm for a bunch of projects I'm working on, and cover letters are becoming second nature.

But in all seriousness things are good. Friday night was spent with a great friend in Amherst.

Last night involved dancing on couches and playing guitar. To be honest I haven't had that much fun in a very long time.

Oh and I went to my friend's play which happened to be fabulous and I was extreemely impressed with the array of talent. I mean seriously I don't know many people who can speaketh witheth an Old-English accent. Haha.

And in the meantime I feel something pulling at my heart, my very being to go on the Navigators Spring Break trip to Atlanta, GA and I just don't know at this point what I am to do. In the meantime slowly but surely my hard heart towards life is becoming a bit softer, and a bit less concerned with what I have and don't have. And in doing so I feel a little less nuts. Which is great. Attempting to be humble, ironically is very humbling.

Everyday when I wake up I'm in this process where I have to remind myself to 1. live in the moment, 2. don't dwell on the uncertain. 3 go with the flow 4. just be happy with what I'm wearing and who I am that day and 5. know that somehow this crazy life that is mine is to be used intelligently and for a greater cause. I think we could all live this way.
And realize I'm attempting to live this way, not always succeeding.

Prayer and thoughts are with you all. Have a great week.

Ozone Baby

I have this great urge to go back to my now non-existent wild child self. Its Thursday night, and I'm doing work and nothing. I might as well have fun instead of worrying right?

I cleary remember not being concerned about much those days. I just want a dose of "I don't care". Because I care too much. Sometimes life is easier if you just go with the flow. And right now I'm swimming upstream.


In a way I can't wait to get to New York-where no one knows my name, no one knows who I am, what I like. Where the streets have no name. Well they do, kidding. Thats the fun part, I get to be who ever I want for an entire summer. Wild child? Sure why not.

Production Assistant: “Let’s start selling drugs. There’s more money in that. Not weed though. It’s practically legal now. Getting started in the weed business is like getting started in the newspaper industry.”

Familia

My parents are visiting today. Which is so nice. They decided to surprise me with the info a couple days ago. Its funny when you need things most and don't think to ask or wish for them it sort of just happens--such as a visit with family. We'll go out to eat and just enjoy the company.

Last night I had a dream I had all sorts of ethnic and intricately designed guitars except for one problem, the first fret was broken off from the rest of the guitar. How sad.

And miles to go before I sleep

Wendy Wahl's Uncovered Grove

Today was a snowy cold mundane New England day, though this year we aren't acclimated to normal winter weather as this winter has presented itself as a 'dud.'
My head aches for some indeterminable reason, but stops aching when I think of me and my sister's plans for spring break. Should be good if we can get it together.

In some cloud floating throughout my day and feeling complacent in my hour and a half break between classes I decided to venture to the campus art gallery. Last semester they had a fantastic exhibit I was never able to get to. But today was the perfect day to go. I wish I had before now.

The exhibit feels like your entering the inner workings of a clean space of your mind--or atleast I'd like to think so. It was an exhibit on sustainability in the valley. The architecture of built buildings and homes and homes and buildings to be built is impeccable. Down to the millimeter models of state-of-the art designs kept my eyes attention. Clean and efficient would describe this gallery.

If I could design an environmentally friendly house it would be clean lines with cherry wood frames and floors, whimsical staircases and an open air friendly floor plan. The palette would be light hues of blue and green, though the dining room would be decadent with a vintage chandelier and deep red walls and a grand piano and various instruments on the walls. Also to express my emphasis on writing and reading I would have a reading nook painted yellow and wallpapered sporatically with my favorite news articles and headlines.

Okay. Stop. I'm dreaming. But I've always loved design and aesthetics, especially efficient usage of space.

My future house will surely have all which I've described, most importantly the newspaper nook which is sure to come with an espresso machine.

But today I was just happy strolling about the winter weather. My hair was so curly--ahrgh! I never wear it like that, a rare occasion indeed.

But anyhow the exhibit was so calming. I watched their short documentary three times where its tranquility almost put me to sleep. The gallery space itself is inviting yet charmingly stiff. I didn't want to leave but Robert Frost's poems were calling scrutiny in poetry class.

This made me think back to my peaceful days at the Newport Art Museum, where I worked in a fusion of paperwork, press-binders
old mansions, 19th century quilts and loose encyclopedia page moving tree exhibits--which happens to be my favorite exhibit I've ever witnessed, created by artist Wendy Wahl. It was a white wonderland of broken words and perfect trees.

I am not an artist of paint, canvas, oils or sculpture, though I do have a fondness for the visual arts. My point being of course that today's wanderings to the gallery were both needed and appreciated. Sometimes all you need to do to enjoy your day is do something reminiscent of your old self, your old interests--to like a part of the past that led you to the present day version of yourself.

Hope things are good
Always,
Chelsea

Harnesting and Harvesting

Last night I slept 13 hours. A much needed 13 hours. I woke up today thinking it was a little before noon. My roommate cheerfully said, "Good morning," which then ensued laughter as I looked at the clock and saw that it was 3:30 p.m. I guess when you can sleep that late there must be a reason for it. It might be my stress, my lack of sleep or just taking it easy, something I don't do often.

This weekend I went away to a conference. I knew beforehand I was in a contentious spot with my faith, which for a while was unshakable. The conference for many served as a firm standing ground for many of those Christians in attendance.

For me it did do something in the right direction but didn't serve as a firming foundation. Rather it showed me how far in my faith I still need to grow, and also how 100 percent cynical I am. I joke around that if someone gave me a paragraph of a book, an article or even a piece of furniture I could analyze it and write at least a page about it.

This is not necessarily a bad thing that I can have great insight into things, but for my faith, sometimes my undying need for answers and always a margin for error does destructive things.

Also I've become so busy and not intune with my health that I've been gettting shooting pains in my right occipital, it sounds silly but I've targeted that it only happens when I think about the future. The future, which means uncertainty. So as a result I've decided I need to be back in-tune and will be trying to do more yoga and attending pilates classes.

So things are good, a four-day week which entails some work and hopefully some fun in the upcoming weekend.

Everyone have a great week, get some fresh air and lets hope it doesn't snow too much.

Telling True Stories

My grandparents (the bicycling vegetarian ones) sent me this lovely book today, as if they knew I needed some inspiration. They wrote a lovely note, "I always thought these chicken soup books were good. Nice short stories-uplifting. Good luck with your music."
Things like this just make me appreciate all I have meaning family and love even more. Even better was the page that the letter bookmarked as I opened the package was a page that has one of my favorite quotes of all time on it. Some strange coincidence.

Hi everyone. So I forgot to mention this but I'm just blown away by Frank Warren. Seriously a great inspiration. In my feature on him I refer to him as, "charmingly honest." Anyhow, I asked him the question, "You get postcards from all around the world, do you ever post any on the blog in other languages?" He replied, "you know, we don't, but because you asked, next week I'll post some on there." Which is so cool. PS the website is www.postsecret.com. He posts new postcards every Sunday.

As for me strange things happen in this life let me tell you. Its like when you have a little faith everything aligns or goes a bit smoother. The minute I sought out some help, friends started pouring in with stories and understanding. I'm learning you don't always have to bury your needs and worries so deep down at some inaccessible point. I like to think that some things in my life become a black hole. Just get sucked down, and the gravity is so strong so vast that it is physically impossible for things to return or re-emerge. But today was great a step in the right direction.

Upon another whimsical sort of unfolding of events, I was asked if I wanted to attend a winter conference with Navigators a group I'm in. I'm going and feel very blessed to be able to go and just re-valuate my faith and life and walk in the right direction.

Its funny you know. We always think we've got it figured out--that we can do everything on our own. For me that isn't the case. Every day when I think I can wake up and put a smile on my face and get through the day without having a nerves and anxiety and leaving class, I can't. And when I stretch out my arms and literally yell for God, things get better--and quick. And at this point its not like I expect it at all--I feel badly for sort of being so skeptical of my faith, but it never fails, and my hope seems to prevail when I know I'm not on my own.

Prayers for V.

A dozen roses.

So hello everyone.

Today was a snow day, and it was a needed one. I woke up and to much shock there was no snow, which was fabulous. So I took a run, which I've doing more of lately. People say I might hurt my knees, which I hear them but the running just soothes me in a way I can't explain.

Today was good, just hung out enjoyed things. Tonight was great. I interviewed Frank Warren the creator of Postsecret and I hope to write a great feature on him and his work and his mission. He was a pretty cool guy who stands for a pretty cool cause. Of course I walked out with a child-ish grin on my face when he asked what my major was and I replied, "journalism," and he replied, "that suits you, you'll be great at it." The grin ensued. I always feel 100 percent better or inspired when I do journalism things--talking and relating to people. So I know I probably made the right choice despite the harsh economy on the field. But as always that hasn't deterred me from my dreams, National Geographic.

I'm starting to write again. I keep getting all of these story ideas and hope to pursue them. I'm still bogged down with internship things and pending plans on next year and this summer and though it can seem overwhelming, its life, and I need to let go and realize the Chelsea Whitton way of things isn't how it always goes.

My mother mailed me chocolate and cute pj bottoms for valentines day. So sweet. I remember being a child and getting gifts on little holidays like this. One year I got a pair of barbie overalls. Yes denim barbie overalls. Another was a watch that I adored. If only she sent a bottle of vodka and every romantic comedy ever produced....Kidding. Though Valentines Day in my mind represents some capitalistic announcement of affection, I sort of do wish I had a reason to celebrate. In any case I always try to get myself in holiday spirit no matter the holiday thus I already know I'm wearing my underwear with hearts on them, if thats at all pertinent to anything.Well at least my day is free right?

Tomorrow is Thursday. I'm getting help tomorrow, actual assistance with my life. Its funny, now that I started opening up and talking about things many other people around my life are saying things like oh I've gotten tons of help, or ya I've had therapy. And for once I can't believe I'm not running away from my problems or blatantly lying to those around me that I'm not okay. Though I do feel sort of silly sometimes when people ask me, "What happened?" And I reply, "Well its kind of the exact opposite, nothing happened, nothing at all. And that is why I feel the way I do."

I was telling a friend tonight that I'm ready to start immersing myself in life rather than observing everyone else's. I've concluded that is the main cause of this serious case I have called "single-dom".

Smile though your heart is aching
Smile even though it's breaking
When there are clouds in the sky, you'll get by
If you smile through your fear and sorrow
Smile and maybe tomorrow
You'll see the sun come shining through for you

I don't belong in college
I belong on a Safari
A wild ride of life

Not in books
Not in computer screens
I want to be free.

Its Monday night, and I'm struggling to get stuff done. I'm so sick of school and can't face the fact that I still have like 3 semesters left. I don't know where I'm living this summer, I don't know what I'm doing next year, and I don't own a car, and I'm beginning to care less and less about everything. In the back of my mind is this thought that says, "Take a semester off," or start all over again. But I know I can't do that. Unsatisfied doesn't begin to describe my thoughts. Not unsatisfied with myself, but rather where I'm going. I know I'm not being original or anything because almost every college student thinks about these things, but I never know that it could get to the point that I don't have time to sit down and clear my mind. My mind is full of necessary story ideas for class, bullshit politics and financial burdens. I've also made some correlations between things, pretty basic. When I'm down, so is my relationship with those around me, I become withdrawn from everyone everything. I just want to sit in my bed all day. And my relationship with God or believing in anything is non-existent. My cynicism on the other hand is thriving. Basically I've just begun to question the field I've gotten myself in-and to the point of no return mind you.
Things are spiraling out of control, and I'm at a loss what to do. This stuff just impacts me all around, where usually I'm happy to talk to anyone and goofy, I'm sad serious and introverted to the max. My apologies. I feel like in my daily life I should come with a disclaimer explaining I'm not really like this, its a temporary thing.

Poetry of the mind.

Here is a feature on a poet/psychologist I interviewed for the paper. He was nice easy to talk to and interesting.

http://dailycollegian.com/2010/02/05/uhs%E2%80%99-bynum-finds-health-in-writing-poetry/

Two lemons run away from the water to the ground

This photo just reminds me of an old photo of a farm where I used to ride horses. I liked the simplicity of the broken fence.
I liked this photo from the angle it was taken. I like to photograph the sun, but not as the focal point.
This is my favorite photo from the day. It is sweet and simple and makes winter have a sort of vulnerable side to it-this delicate dried plant still manages to look beautiful against a cold setting sun.




As promised I went on a bike ride, and am so chilled. Both internally and externally. At some points I had to get off my bike and walk to get other parts of my legs moving. It was so cold but so fun. I wish there was more to photograph out there, its like a barren tundra but I'm glad its there.

I still can't feel my hands. Tomorrow is MONDAY. Oh Monday. Its going to be alright, I'm gonna just put a smile on my face and do it.

I need a guitar. Today I was so desperate to play I decided to take out the good old scotch tape and hold it together--I know what you might be thinking. No it didn't work. There is one sitting at home that hopefully I can scoop up.

These are three of my favorite photos for the day. I realize I'm not following photog rules. But I like them none-the-less.

Have a good night everyone.

Freedom and Liberty

I'm not sure if my days going from worse to better is a good thing. Your probably thinking well duhhh. But I'm just making sure that I'm not going to slip back again. Back to the despair. I mean its been only two days of feeling significantly better but I hope the 'betterment' continues. I don't know I feel a little lighter and happier inside, due to the overwhelming love and support of friends. Which is always nice.

My article ran today. I would have liked sources to get back to me sooner (they got back to me today, after the article ran) but a good journalist doesn't count on them calling you back and that is where I went wrong, but I'm definitely developing a longer-story feature format type of writing which I happen to love.

In bad news, I cracked the bottom of my laptop, and last night in some violent dream rage I knocked over my expensive cosmetic mirror which then cracked. Its life right?
Not bothering me. I'm just happy to be able to smile again, talk again, and have a relaxing weekend.

If the weather is nice of course Saturdays are my bike excursion days, and I will most likely try to take some interesting fun photos. So enjoy your weekends everyone.

I'm exhausted. But God answers prayers and fast. Today I felt so much better I was able to write cover letters and take a run!

Small steps towards a better me!

Hope you all are well and are enjoying the start of February

Arboles.

I had a dream last night, so vivid. It was in my backyard at home where we have at least 14 trees squaring off our yard. My family was home and it was a sunny summer afternoon. But a storm had just blown in from the west paralleling the golf course. In the dream the weather had gotten too bad we had to seek refuge, but I stood near the window watching trees snapping in half my favorite maple, my favorite pine. Many trees. But not one tree seemed to hit the house. There was some emotional factor in the dream to these trees, that when I woke up found very interesting. Despite the strong winds in the dream it was sunny and looked peaceful.

Pretty cool.

Spring, please spring.

This thing I have, is gripping me, slowly but surely. My dreams and hopes are slowly slipping before me. I'm losing faith and its scaring me. Though talking with my friends is helping and knowing they are there for me helps and being there for them makes it worth it. I guess I just don't like reality. But its getting pretty ridiculous when I can't go to bed with out crying. My mother said to me tonight, "Its been a rough week", when in reality its been tough for quite some time. Why is it that everything she says is like a slap in the face, a type of support so unsupportive it crushes me? All I ever wanted was someone to be there to say something to the extent of 'hey kid, go catch those dreams.' Instead I get someone saying to stop thinking about things. Thats no do-able at this stage of the game. I sometimes try to convince myself I'm being dramatic. But theres nothing to it anymore--I've lost all direction.

Realizing these things makes me feel as if I've failed. I've failed myself, my ability to carry onwards. Instead I am 100% stuck.

I feel empty and don't know if I belong here anymore. I'm burn out from school, and feel like a person just going through the motions most of the time. Sometimes I feel like a hopeless cause. Tomorrow I have to wake up and finish an article.

I want the days back where I was productive and enjoyed college. When I could get out of my bed in the morning knowing a good day awaited.

I can't write, I can't run, I can't get out of bed, I can't do much these days. Putting on a smile is my last hope.

Sorry if this is depressing. Because it is.

Goodtime Jesus by James Tate

My personal favorite.

GOODTIME JESUS

Jesus got up one day a little later than usual. He had been dream-
ing so deep there was nothing left in his head. What was it?
A nightmare, dead bodies walking all around him, eyes rolled
back, skin falling off. But he wasn't afraid of that. It was a beau-
tiful day. How 'bout some coffee? Don't mind if I do. Take a little
ride on my donkey, I love that donkey. Hell, I love everybody.

As someone who believes in God sincerely, not the foundations society has put religion in but in God himself, I absolutely adore this. I often hope/wish Jesus was a laid back guy. I'm sure he was. Though it is my sense of humor to want Jesus to say as a side-note, "Hell I love everybody." Funniest part of it is that its true. Great writer, great prose.

I've been doing alot of poetry reading lately.
Some poems remind me of myself, my own writing style
Some remind me of those loved
Some remind me of my mind unraveling before the very reader's eyes. Which Tate happens to specialize in.
Though I would like to broaden my horizons in respect to modern poetry. I like wry witty poetric that doesn't follow pattern or logic really. Know of any?

This is a poem I wrote a while back. I haven't really produced anything really lately. This is one where I reached into the what I call "strange" sector that is me and pulled out some schema which follows...


Velvet Ropes
On day as I stroll about the block
The Museum of Modern Art finds its way among the path
What it hides inside--everything off limits

The velevet rope taunts
How pretentious

Graceful as a string player
I leap the low red fabric
prohibiting the curiosity

I was on my way to the florist
But the sharp garden shears stopped me here

Daylight allows
A beam of sun
To glimpse Picasso's score
To hear the clarinet and guitar
For one last time

Before a created overture is marked
The clippers emerge from my satin green coat
I honestly don't think he will mind
A surrealist would have loved this

"The Three Musicians" decrescendo
Caesura
The sound echos the empty hall

The man playing the clarinet thanks me
As he has played the same triplets
For far too long
And the old bearded man's arms are tired
How he holds the score

Cubism takes new form
Pieces on the floor
The men dressed in suit threaten

So I
Re-arrange the pieces now on the marble-quartz
So the man playing the clarinet becomes blind
And the bearded one a beggar
The score holder speaks through his hands

I comply and wonder why
I am picking up pieces that never belonged
Together in the first place
A little like life isn't it?
Maybe Picasso did know what he was doing

-Chelsea Whitton

Shadow in the Sun.

In between workn and juggling my hectic schedule I spilled at least a cup of coffee in total on my clothing today I'm sure. I'm so tired, so very tired, because I've caught this cold that is sucking the life right out of me. My bed is a safe haven of thoughts and dreams I will soon return here later. After lying down for an hour or so I feel much better. Sometimes all you need is a little nap and some good music to zonk out to.

Oh p.s. its Groundhog Day. It really is too bad that these days in my academic life we don't get to sit at permanent desks and color little things of the rodent species and laugh whether or not the damn thing saw its shadow. Reportedly it did see its shadow, prolonging the winter. But when did groundhog instincts become factual science haha?

Bloopity blah.

Did anyone happen to catch Jon Hamm host SNL? Literally funniest I've seen a while. Its funny how SNL never fails to cheer up.

AUBURN, Mass.

So where I am from might seem trivial
boring
plain,
but after writing this it seems sort of nice. It was for class--no I don't do these things on my free time.

Strawberry Fields May not be Forever....but the roots still Grow. AUBURN, Mass
By Chelsea Whitton

Mapped in-between the Berkshire Mountains and the Atlantic is an idyllic New England town that hasn’t been lost in the rolling hills of Central Massachusetts or forgotten in the changing of New England seasons. Auburn, Massachusetts is a town all roads can lead to, especially the well-traveled Mass Pike. Auburn is swiftly becoming a mini-metropolis and a cut threw growing suburbia – yet it is a community of rustic tradition, inherited culture and nostalgia reminiscent of small town politics and growth.

Some of that nostalgia is presented between locals and recognition all the way to NASA in Washington D.C. The center of town is home to a 40 foot model rocket behind the fire station. Of course recognition of this eye-attracting 40 foot rocket with black and white checkered fuselage coincides the town and school’s mascot—the Auburn Rockets. But what visitors andtown residents don’t have as common knowledge is the story behind the rocket model, which happens to give Auburn a spot in astronomical fame.

In March of 1926 Robert H. Goddard launched the world’s first liquid propelled rocket at a speed of 60 mph. (NASA.) Though it was far away from the engineering of our time, he was a pioneer. In Robert Goddard’s autobiography he writes, “I imagined how wonderful it would be to make some device which had even the possibility of ascending to Mars.” And with a simple boyhood dream of engineering a craft in which could reach out of earth atmospheres his work has changed the NASA program as current science recognizes it. The secondary schools in town on March 16 hand out pamphlets on Goddard’s achievements every year perhaps as a reminder that small town doesn’t equal menial success.

Auburn is home to six schools two elementary, Bryn Mawr and Mary D. Stone School. Resident children are determined in which school to attend by Route 20. The students on one side of Route 20 go to one school and the other half the other school. This continues through grades 3-5 in Pakachoag School and the Julia Bancroft School. In Auburn both sides of Route 20 and the teens of Auburn unite in which any elder resident will famously remember—Auburn Middle School. Where there are six teams separating three grades and hold days of walking the halls of the 1970s styled building. After grade 8 is completed the students move onto the newly renovated Auburn High School. The renovation was complete in August of 2006 where Auburn was greeted with a state-of the art facility.

Auburn's school system may just be part of what hold the town together and creates a strong sense of community. The high school sports teams are often high scoring and placing in the Southern Worcester County League bringing many fans. High school sports are not where the recreation ends though.

Where a strawberry farm once took sprout now is a place where golfers take the greens. The town of Ward which was territorial what is now known as Auburn was created in 1778. The town was becoming easily confused with its western counterpart Ware, and the decision to rename the town Auburn was enacted in 1837.The Pakachoag Golf Course is a local nine-hole course that was once a strawberry field, on top of a Pakachoag Hill, where the Pakachoag Indian Tribe part of the Nipmunc, once inhibited. The course overlooks the southern side of Worcester and a touch of sustainability that may be needed as Auburn continues to build both housing developments and businesses is evident.

In the 1970s town builders planning for a mall filled in a pond that was three times the size of what it is now. There was the need for a mall in the prospering town, and to make space for it the natural habitat was filled in giving way for the building of a mall. Now after destroying part of the environment there are laws in Massachusetts prohibiting the filling in of natural bodies of water. The mall still stands to this day, where the Macy’s sign can be seen from all hills of the town.
Though Auburn may present a town with a sound education system, sports and music program, it can be inferred that diversity is lacking. According to a U.S. 2000 census statistic, 99.7 percent of Auburn’s population is of Caucasian decent. The town is home to over 15,000 residents, where on average the family income is $60,000, about $20,000 greater than the average household income in the U.S. (US census 2000.)

Though diversity may not be Auburn’s strongest deciding factor, its charm, older developments, churches, the red town museum and commitment to school and community hold its history to be true, credible, and add to the humble appeal of this Central Massachusetts town.

And the record goes screech

Saw it written and saw it say
Pink Moon is on its way
None of you stand so tall
Pink Moon is gonna get you all

Pink Pink Pink moon.

If not one of my favorite songs ever by Nick Drake. Its too bad its by one of my favorite artists who saw his best and worst days in the 70s. He was brilliant. Another one of my favorites is "Road."

After a Monday like today listening to some Nick Drake definitely helps unwind. Every Monday I hope it will be alright, that I will get back to my dorm and not want to fall apart or run away. This has yet to happen last semester and this semester. Its something about Mondays. They can't seem to hold themselves together.

Somedays I think I'd be happier here or there doing this or that. But I'm here. doing this and that. But I'm sure working on an African Safari or studying Blue Whales or Sloths or rocks or bird migration patterns or seismic activity in the ring of fire, or names of foreign plants or being a famous poet would beat out anything. Though it might seem I'm listing off random things, they are actually all things I like. Thats my problem, I like too many things. Ignorance can be bliss my friends. I don't know I'm only kidding. I realize I'm in a fortunate position to be at school. I can be a hippie if I feel so inclined to. But I need to be a productive happy one at that. Right now I want to feel nothing. That is something I would like. As I try to relax. Nothing.

P.S. this post is a bunch of midnight in-cohesive thoughts. James Joyce remix style.