Diary of a Church Mouse

LDS / Bisexual / he/him / Not-So-Secretly a Skeleton

[brothermouse]

Bishop Jones: And now we will confirm Brother Smith to the Melchizedek Priesthood. *To brother Smith* What's your full name?

Brother Smith: Bryson One Hundred Fourty-four Thousand Bees Smith.

Bishop Jones: Alrighty, Brother Bryson One Hundred Four- hey, wait a minute! Bees can't hold the priesthood!

A tiny voice under Brother Smith's trenchcoat: he's onto us, boys! scatter!!!

*Brother Smith explodes into a swarm of bees*

[brothermouse]

Feeling peckish for a micro dose of Mormon Horror.

Anyone got a spooky experience in an empty chapel to share? It doesn't have to be a true story.

[ldsjackalope]

Caveat, this is done over the course of today, w/no reread, and little to no background in genealogy.

I wasn't always a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. My conversion isn't some incredible story, at least not to me. Grew up somewhat religious. At least I thought more or less there was someone looking out for us, and sometimes I'd pray. A friend and I started talking religion in high school. We had another friend who was LDS, and he invited us to go to church with him one Sunday. I went a few times, not consistently, but something drew me to it. Got baptized a bit after graduation, but with trying to get college life organized, I didn't go consistently.

Looking back, I wonder if that's when it started, and I just didn't notice? When things calmed down some I realized it'd been almost six months since I'd gone to church, so I made sure I was awake and ready on time. From the moment I stepped in to the doors until I entered the chapel, I felt like someone was talking about me. I couldn't hear anything, but it was like I was in the high school cafeteria and I was hearing someone the next table over talk about me. A pit in my stomach, heat in my cheeks. I almost turned around, but something pushed me, and as soon as I walked through the doors to the chapel it stopped.

Sacrament Meeting was nice. I didn't realize how much I'd missed it. I introduced myself to some of the members, but as soon as I walked through the chapel doors it was back. I forced myself to sit in Sunday School, but I had to excuse myself before it was halfway done. The feeling lingered a bit as I drove to my apartment, but left by the time I walked in the door. I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling, going over what the missionaries had told me as I took the discussions. That friends or family might disapprove, that it might get easier to just stop going.

Maybe I was being punished? I didn't mean to get distracted, I'd just never developed the habit of going to church on Sunday. I promised myself I'd do better. Roommate mealtime was quiet, but the only other Member seemed a bit on alert. I meant to ask, but I wanted to get to bed at a decent time.

The next Sunday was the same thing, only the feeling started as I pulled into the parking lot. Warm cheeks. Pit in my stomach. Both disappearing when I walk into the chapel. Fifth Sunday in this ward meant the men's and women's classes were combined in the chapel. I didn't realize I'd stayed all of class until the asked for a volunteer for the closing prayer. I was talking to the bishop about transferring my records to this ward, when we both walked out into the hall. He asked if I was OK, and I tried to brush it off, probably wasn't convincing and turned and left as soon as he looked in someone else's direction.

Driving home I was nearly in tears until I walked in the door. I said a rushed "hello" and ran to my room, lay on my bed and stared at the ceiling. I didn't have any experience to draw on, only missionary testimonies and member stories. This just sounded like Satan pressuring me to stop going but not being able to do anything in the Chapel. When I came out to grab dinner, I saw the note on the fridge from the other Member, that they'd be back late that night. I shot a quick text, ate and head to bed.

After an (academically) uneventful week, I was on my way to church again. The pit in my stomach was nearly painful by the time I got to church, and I walked a bit faster than was reverent to the chapel. The ward missionaries greeted me, and asked if I was OK. "Just want to get a good seat" I said, feeling the heat receed and the pit in my stomach unlench. I tried not to let my mind wander, but I was turning over this feeling trying to figure things out. I didn't hear the context, but I caught a member mentioning how the chapel was the holiest place in the church, b/c of the altar where the Sacrament was prepared. I latched on to that, b/c I wanted it to make sense. I wanted there to be a reason. If I couldn't shake this feeling, it was at least going to make sense why it stopped at the chapel doors. Sacrament Meeting closed with a reminder that the Ward Genealogist would be helping with indexing and the like on Tuesdays. I'd downloaded the software a bit after I'd first gotten baptized. I could help, even if I couldn't bring myself to go to church.

I started dedicating Tuesdays to genealogy. A few pages here and there. I started to only go to first hour. I'd find an excuse to not be talking to anyone as I walked out, and the few times someone caught me I was overwhelmed with the feeling I began to think of as "unbelonging". I knew I was where I was supposed to be, but I couldn't fight that feeling that hit me from the drive to church to the drive home, except for the respite in the chapel.

I started to tinker with my own family tree. My mom knew more than my dad, but his mom had some sort of record, she just needed time to find it. I waited on that and filled in what I could find when it came up. I found out my mom had been interested in the Church, but talked about "vibes being off" when she went. I tried to get her to talk about it more, but she chalked it up to it being the 80s, and a hectic time for her. "Sometimes things just aren't a good fit".

At this point I loved and dreaded Sundays. I almost asked to go to my roommate's family ward a few different days, but always chickened out. Our apartment was always in and out, someone coming in late or leaving early, not a lot of time together. I thought it'd be weird to ask, like I'd be a hanger-on, not welcomed but tolerated.

I stopped eating breakfast before church on Sundays. The few times I'd needed to use the bathroom before church, the weird florescent lights and the old greenish mirrors made me see flickers at the corner of my vision. That and the pit that was now a fist in my stomach, it was just easier not to have to make any stops. A few Sundays before summer break, someone mentioned Ward Pioneer Day celebrations. I tried to learn more from the safety of the chapel, but just caught "Governor Boggs, may he rest in piss" from one of the "edgier" Members.

I looked him up when I got home. The things you don't know when you're not raised in something, right? I learned/refreshed my memory on the westward move by the Pioneer Saints, and added a few books to my post-college TBR.

Working on geneology stuff, my mom sent a text "did you know we're related to Daniel Boon?" with some scans from someone's family Bible. I recognized the name of the most recent ancestor we'd found, near the bottom. A many greats grandmother had married him. I traced the line up. I kinda loved the antique, out of fashion names. Panthea -

I felt shock, like a current running through my body. Panthea Grant Boone - Boggs.

No way. No way was I related to The Governor Boggs. I knew my ancestors had done some bad-to-downright-terrible things. Most people's ancestors had at one point or another. I wasn't them, they're not my responsibility. But the guy who ran early Saints out of their homes? No wonder I felt like I didn't belong. What right did I have to walk those halls?

I tried to shake that thought, but it lingered with me the rest of the week. I was able to shut most of it out for some early finals, but I was right back to stewing when I finished up. The pit was a near constant presence unless I was home. I stared at the little pass along card Jesus I had taped on my headboard shelf. Home, as much as I could consider a college apartment that, was my heaven on earth. I felt sick going to church, knowing what I knew. I felt like someone there had to know who I was, had to know I walked where others should. I walked through the doors and had to detour to the bathroom, immediately sick. I couldn't throw up, I didn't have any food in me. I barely noticed the flickers, the hum of the lights was incessant, low and rumbling. I shuffled over to the sink and splashed my face with water. When I blearlily looked into the mirror instead of flickers, I thought I could make out faces or forms. I didn't dare look close. I could remember starkly the missionary lessons about the world being split by veils. The Pre-existance, this world, and the hear after, spirit paradise and spirit prison. They were not some great distance away from us or each other. It was all here.

I was horrified as I realized the feeling I'd had for months wasn't just negativity stewing too long. Someone didn't want me in this building. Possibly any building. But was it Satan, or the victims of my many greats grandfather? How would I ever find out?

I stumbled out of the bathroom, and at first I thought the hall was crowded, until I realized no one was bumping into me, and the clothing styles were centuries out of date.

I almost ran trying to get away from them. I was barely aware of my feet leading me to the chapel, surrounded by the spirits of men, women, and children wronged. I wasn't sure if I could actually feel their rage, or if I was imagining it.

I almost ran into the greeter, apologized probably too loud, and then entered one of the two sanctuaries I had. I sat in the back, off to the side, and tried to make myself unnoticeable. I couldn't see the spirits I knew to be waiting in the hall, and I was so lost in my own racing thoughts I hadn't even realized Sacrament Meeting had started until I was offered the bread tray. I waved it away, not sure what the spirits would think, what they would do now that I'd seen them. I faintly remembered stories of missionaries and members dealing with evil spirits, but I'd always understood that to mean Satan and his followers. Not departed, martyred Members of the church. I didn't listen to a single talk, I just thought with dread over the moment I'd have to walk back out those doors.

Authors note: sorry to leave any readers hanging. I have two possible endings for this, and I'm not sure which one to go with. I was working with the idea that we are the same on the other side of the veil as we are here. What if we're so angry we can't forgive, even if we know better? I have heard accounts of people doing temple work and knowing the family member they're doing work for isn't happy about it.

[brothermouse]

Brother mouse tonight after reading our Mormon horror stories

Legit quaking in my boots!

[brothermouse]

Speaking of Mormon horror, have you seen this?

https://youtu.be/ACn_CT_7gtE

The Angel!

The last Mormon Horror short I saw before this was "The Handbook" and that one scared me so much I couldn't gather up the nerve to check out The Angel until you nudged me, so thank you for that!

It's so good! The symbolism, the almost handshake, the Angel and the way he says (or doesn't say) things! So unsettling! I love it!

[brothermouse]

Feeling peckish for a micro dose of Mormon Horror.

Anyone got a spooky experience in an empty chapel to share? It doesn't have to be a true story.

[baronvonbunnyofficial]

Something is wrong with the Cole’s

I used to be the primary’s pianist at my old ward. I loved my calling and I looked forward to seeing the children come in each week with big smiles on their faces. I liked hearing them sing while I played. It was a small ward, only half a dozen kids in total, but that’s okay.

Two of these children were Lucy and her older brother Sam. They were both part of the Cole family. Lucy had just turned three when this story happened, she loved primary and loved the sunbeam class even though she’s the only one. Her mother taught sunbeams and she would always sit in her lap during primary and sing on the top of her lungs, she was thankful for all the daddy kitties and momma kitties and wanted a pair of “puppy kitties”. Her brother Sam was 11 and was nearing the end of his time in primary. Because of this, he often got bored and did silly stuff to rile up the rest of the primary. But he was a good kid.

The Cole family have been a staple in our ward, they’ve never missed a single week of church. So it was weird when they didn’t show up to church for three weeks straight. I asked around if anyone knew where they were and they just said that they were going on a trip. It was weird since if that was the case, Lucy would’ve told me.

I was happy to see them back but the Cole’s were acting odd. They sat in the way back and were carrying Lucy. Lucy looked odd, her eyes were blank and her limbs were stiff and thin, she didn’t blink once or smiled. I went up to say hello to her, but her parents left the chapel before I even had a chance to. Lucy was there in primary with her mother as usual, Sam sat as far away from them as possible and instead of making the usual snide remarks about the lesson, he was quiet. While I was playing the piano, I noticed some of the children were holding their noses and complaining about a stench, I smelled it too. The primary leader noticed and told everyone that one of the toilets in the bathroom had backed up and flooded.

When the children left for third hour, (this was back before the switch to two hour church) I stopped sister Cole and asked if everything is alright. Nothing confrontational, just a polite, “hey I haven’t seen you in weeks! Where were you?” She said that they just went out on a trip to visit family, I asked how Lucy was doing and she said that Lucy is doing great and left.

The next Sunday things were the same, the Cole’s sat in the back and carried Lucy around. She was in a long sleeved pink dress and looked more like a rag doll than the girl who would crawl under the pews. Her chest looked like it was about to burst through the seams of her dress. During primary, I noticed that she was wearing a thick layer of makeup and foundation. It was a hundred out and the same smell was back. The stench was unbearable, it was so thick that you could taste it. The kids tried to sing while holding their noses but the smell just rested in their mouths, a few had to spit out the stench. Once again, the primary leader told everyone it was just from the backed up toilets and our building has been having trouble with the old septic tank.

As the children were leaving for class, Sam slipped me a note begging me to come talk to him after church, he looked extremely sick and was struggling to keep his eyes open. After church I went to the classroom that he told me to meet him at, and he wasn’t there. I asked around and someone told me they’ve left after second hour and to mind my own business.

I like to stay after church and practice the piano in the chapel. I have a keyboard at home. I live in a small apartment and the walls are pretty thin, my next door neighbor likes to watch sub anime on max volume every Sunday, making it hard for me to practice. I also live next to a busy street and I like having a bit of quiet time to myself. I don’t know how long I have been practicing, but I heard water coming from the baptismal font. We didn’t have any baptisms and out of curiosity, I went to check it out.

I regretted the choice, the baptismal font was full of thick, brownish red sludge. There were pieces of who knows what floating in it. The stench was so unbearable that I threw up. I ran down the hallway and found the bishopric and a few other brothers, I told them about the font and what I’ve seen. They said that they were just flushing the pipes out. I put my foot down and told them that I saw pipes being flushed before, I know something was going on and I demanded to speak to brother Cole. I was done playing games with him, something happened to Lucy and I wanted to know.

The bishop yelled at me, he told me to stop sticking my head into other’s people’s lives. Lucy was obviously okay as she was at church. If the Cole’s didn’t want to talk about it, they didn’t have to, and I was causing a big deal out of nothing. Lucy is fine. I even showed him the note Sam gave me that day and he said that Sam was just trying to pull a prank on me. Don’t believe anything that Sam says, he’s just a prepubescent boy trying to cause problems for laughs. He took the note though.

I dreaded going to church the next Sunday. When I did, the first thing I noticed was that Lucy was not with the Cole family. They were back to sitting in their usual spot near the front. Sam looked terrified and ill. He didn’t move or speak or even looked at his parents. The Cole’s were back to their old self smiling and putting their arms around Sam, each time, Sam scooted away.

Finally during sacrament. Sam burst into tears and ran out of the building. Brother Cole went after him. Neither Sam nor sister Cole were there in primary. A few men left the building to go search for Sam. They found him running on the side of the road and brought him back, he was kicking and screaming about not wanting to go back. They shoved Sam into their car and locked the door.

Before they left, I tried to make conversation with them and asked how’s Lucy. They said that she was home sick and she’ll be back next week. Sam was still screaming and pounding on the windows to be let out. I asked if Sam was okay too and brought up his sickly appearance. I also let slip about Lucy, how unusual she looked last time I saw her. They said that both children just got a bad flu and were okay. They hurried off before I could press further.

The next Sunday the Cole’s were back with their children, except it wasn’t their children. Lucy was an older looking girl and looked to be Asian descent, while Sam was a taller, lankier boy with brown hair instead of blond. I went over to say hello but was stopped by a few other members. The other members were addressing them as Lucy and Sam and treated them like they were actually the children. I asked someone who they were, and they gave me a funny look and said that they were obviously Lucy and Sam.

During primary, the girl looked uncomfortable sitting in sister Cole’s lap, the boy was more interested in playing on his brand new smartphone than the lesson. When asked a question about the nephites, he looked up and said “who?”.

I had enough of this by now, I don’t know what compelled me, but I jumped up and yelled as loud as I could that those children were obviously not the real Lucy and Sam, and that they’re not fooling anyone and I was sick and tired of their lies and to fess up and tell us what happened to the real children. Sister Cole and I gotten into a huge shouting match where I slapped her. The rest of the children were taken out of the room.

The bishop talked to me afterwards, he said he was growing frustrated with me and my behavior and I was obsessing over this family and it was making them uncomfortable, I called him out how between the disappearance, the smell, Lucy’s appearance, and now how the parents are trying to pass off two strange children as their own, it should be obvious that something is up. The bishop got mad at me and told me that I was no longer allowed in this building, and if I try to enter, he will call the police for trespassing.

I have been best friends with the bishop for years. He’s never raised his voice once, and was very soft spoken and kind. I felt like I was in the emperor’s new clothes, the emperor obviously is wearing nothing, but no one will acknowledge it.

The weeks got weirder for me, I reported the Cole’s to the police and suddenly two members got a job at the pizza place that I work at. Then while I was making deliveries, I noticed that I was being followed by the primary president in her mini van. When I got back to my apartment, another member had moved in next door and I saw another brother parked right outside my apartment window. Everywhere I went, I was being followed by someone from that ward. I decided to try and drive out to the Cole’s house in hopes that maybe we could talk it out peacefully and this was just a misunderstanding. But as soon as I pulled onto their road, the car behind me passed next to me and pulled out a pistol and fired a warning shot.

I wasn’t injured, but I had enough. I texted my mother about the situation, and she agreed that something was going on and I should move back in with her. Don’t worry about anything, she and my father will take care of it. She lives a good seven hours away and out of state. I packed what I could and took off in a friend’s car in the middle of the night.

It’s been a good several years since the incident, I had a mental breakdown and became paranoid for several years afterwards. I told my therapist about it and she agreed that something was up. I am at a new ward and they all found the family to be suspicious and agreed that the entire ward was probably in on it. I was put on medication for my anxiety and got a new job at a grocery store.

I tried not to think about the incident that much, but today when I came home from work into my new apartment, I was hit with an unbearable familiar smell. It was coming from my new upright piano, when I opened it up, I screamed. It was filled with the same brown sludge from that baptismal fountain, and laid on the bench was Lucy’s long sleeved pink dress.

[brothermouse]

Feeling peckish for a micro dose of Mormon Horror.

Anyone got a spooky experience in an empty chapel to share? It doesn't have to be a true story.

[boycarofchilladelphia]

One time my dad was practicing organ late at night and I was finishing the bulletin when suddenly there was a huge THUD from outside, like someone had thrown a particularly dense snowball at the tiny window by the sacrament table. We both looked up, but there was zero indication of any life outside the window or inside other than us. It was also like 11:00, and we were so weirded out we went home

[brothermouse]

Feeling peckish for a micro dose of Mormon Horror.

Anyone got a spooky experience in an empty chapel to share? It doesn't have to be a true story.

[baronvonbunnyofficial]

Our ward has a genealogy center. It’s really old and still has microfilm readers. It’s actually three rooms connected to each other with light switches by each door.

One Saturday I decided to go there and go through some old cemetery records. I recently took an interest in documenting headstones and I wanted to cross reference them some old records we had. The church building was quiet, there were a few people there from a baptism but it was wrapping up. I logged onto the computer and put my earbud in and got to work.

It was peaceful at first until I pulled up one name I found, it was the town’s Jane doe. Back in 1985, a twelve year old girl was found in the river, what was unusual was that she had been dismembered and her body pieces were being discovered throughout the year in different locations. Every time the case starts to step out of the public eye, another one of her body parts was discovered. Whoever killed her never wanted the authorities to stop finding her body.

As I was about to document the name, I heard a loud clack from the back of the room, I turn around to find one of the microfilm readers was switch on. I didn’t think about it much so I go to switch it off, but I found that the machine was never plugged in to begin with.

I am not the type to believe in the paranormal, so I didn’t think about it and finished my work. When I went to leave the building, everyone was gone. But when I went to open the door, it was locked. This was extremely unusual as most doors don’t lock like this. So I try the other doors, all were locked.

Most buildings, the hallway wraps around the chapel and gym, as I was walking, I felt a sense of unease. I felt sad and scared strangely, I didn’t know why. As I kept walking I thought I heard a second set of foot steps behind me. They went away as soon as I stopped. I felt very uncomfortable and started to quicken my steps. The hallway seemed to have stretched and everything looked the same.

I panicked and ran, but the faster I ran, the longer the hallway got. The footsteps were right behind me, it sounded like someone was breathing right down my neck, I stopped and turned around and heard someone run the other way, but didn’t see anyone. I began to panic, did they cut across the chapel and waiting for me at the other end? I turned around and ran back where I came and I heard someone running right behind me. I wanted to look back but I didn’t want to see what was behind me.

I kept trying to run but as I kept going, the exit doors to the outside disappeared completely. I tried to duck into one of the classrooms but the doors wouldn’t budge. I kept running what was basically a never ending loop of hall lined with locked doors knowing someone or something is right directly behind me.

Eventually I managed to run back into the genealogy center and locked the door, there was a window I could crawl out of, but it was too small. Then one of the doors near the microfilm readers swung open. I panicked, I only locked one door.

The genealogy center is also connected to the library. I didn’t want to risk encountering the thing, so I dashed through the door and locked everything behind me. I sat down on the floor and prayed and prayed that this was just a sick prank by a young woman.

While sitting on the floor trying to be as quiet as possible, I found an old newspaper laid neatly on the floor. I picked it up and on the front page was the Jane doe murder case. What caught my attention was the police sketch, I haven’t seen it but it looked uncannily like me. I noticed that the date of the murder was on November 25th 1985, the same exact date as my birthday. When I lifted the newspaper, there was an obituary. It was for a woman named Susan buck, she was forty years old when she died under what was deemed as a drug overdose. She died on November 25th, 1985.

Not only did she die on my birthday, but I knew Susan Buck, she is my mother and was the one who dropped me off here this morning.

[brothermouse]

Feeling peckish for a micro dose of Mormon Horror.

Anyone got a spooky experience in an empty chapel to share? It doesn't have to be a true story.

[churchblog]

You know those churches with hallways like a U, with the chapel connecting the two hallways at the top? Have you ever been at a weekday activity and needed to cross from one end of the chapel to the other to get to the next hallway? The only light comes from the doors open on each side, and it doesn't reach very far. You really can't see much of the pulpit or the stage, even most of the pews are hard to see. You have to walk quickly, because the dark makes you nervous. You try not to think about how anyone on the stand could see you while you could never see them. You make it to the next hallway and try your best not to look back.

[brothermouse]

Feeling peckish for a micro dose of Mormon Horror.

Anyone got a spooky experience in an empty chapel to share? It doesn't have to be a true story.

[brothermouse]

there are mormons on tumblr??? ngl i thought you guys were fake and made up by tiktok mommy influencers bc ive never seen a mormon outside of that context

I say this as someone who was born and raised in the Utah Mormon bubble: y'all are way too sheltered, you need to get out more, live a little, experience the world, touch some grass, maybe.

[brothermouse]

Had another virtual date. I showed her the Funeral Jello video and she was horrified. She said she had fun and the whole thing went really well.

It seems my plan to obtain an eternal companion by being as weird as possible is, somehow, working?

[hiseyeisonthesparrow]

The LDS church's reluctance to hire transgender furries is holding them back from having properly functioning app UI

[aroacelds]

They do, though? It's a widget you can add to the home page.

Like a lot of the UI kinda sucks, but they have made improvements.

[brothermouse]

The only possible conclusion is that the LDS church has hired at least one (1) closeted transgender furry to work on their UI. Let us pray for this unnamed furry.

[the-arch-hive]

Big news: we're opening an art gallery! Even bigger news: we would love the opportunity to display your art!

The Outer Veil is a new art gallery showcasing contemporary Latter-day Saint art, located at 55 N University Ave in Provo, Utah. We are currently accepting proposals for group or solo art shows covering a variety of themes, mediums, and styles. If you have an idea you're excited about, even if the details are still vague, we would love to hear about it via this form. If you have more questions about the space or about the gallery policies (including our AI use policy), please don't hesitate to reach out—we're happy to discuss these things, we're just also trying not to clog up people's dashboards too much.

If you have other events you'd be interested in seeing in this space, such as book launches or film screenings, you can register your interest via this other form. And if you'd prefer to just get updates on the gallery and the events we're hosting, you can sign up for the mailing list here.

Looking forward to seeing you all there!

[mormonvampire]

Is this the opportunity I have been waiting for to make my painting series—

[brothermouse]

[the-arch-hive]

Big news: we're opening an art gallery! Even bigger news: we would love the opportunity to display your art!

The Outer Veil is a new art gallery showcasing contemporary Latter-day Saint art, located at 55 N University Ave in Provo, Utah. We are currently accepting proposals for group or solo art shows covering a variety of themes, mediums, and styles. If you have an idea you're excited about, even if the details are still vague, we would love to hear about it via this form. If you have more questions about the space or about the gallery policies (including our AI use policy), please don't hesitate to reach out—we're happy to discuss these things, we're just also trying not to clog up people's dashboards too much.

If you have other events you'd be interested in seeing in this space, such as book launches or film screenings, you can register your interest via this other form. And if you'd prefer to just get updates on the gallery and the events we're hosting, you can sign up for the mailing list here.

Looking forward to seeing you all there!

[brothermouse]

Alright guys, let's start workshopping art show ideas I want proposals on my desk by Monday. Here's just some vague ideas off the top of my head:

Art of an alternate history of the nation of Deseret. Ads, political posters, memes, stamps, money ect.

Mormons on Mars.

Mormified Memes and Memeified Mormons

[the-arch-hive]

Big news: we're opening an art gallery! Even bigger news: we would love the opportunity to display your art!

The Outer Veil is a new art gallery showcasing contemporary Latter-day Saint art, located at 55 N University Ave in Provo, Utah. We are currently accepting proposals for group or solo art shows covering a variety of themes, mediums, and styles. If you have an idea you're excited about, even if the details are still vague, we would love to hear about it via this form. If you have more questions about the space or about the gallery policies (including our AI use policy), please don't hesitate to reach out—we're happy to discuss these things, we're just also trying not to clog up people's dashboards too much.

If you have other events you'd be interested in seeing in this space, such as book launches or film screenings, you can register your interest via this other form. And if you'd prefer to just get updates on the gallery and the events we're hosting, you can sign up for the mailing list here.

Looking forward to seeing you all there!

[maspers]

The extremely Mormon urge to be as loud and and joyful and friendly and kind and weird as possible vs the other extremely Mormon urge to be quiet and unobtrusive and avoid getting exterminated

[lvoekat]

the Lord’s house

[critters2go]

The San Diego Temple is one of my favorite temples. I’ve never been in it, but would love to, eventually. Really, I would love to get to a point in my life where I can visit all the LDS temples in the country, if not… the WORLD!!!!

And suddenly I seem less like an inspired Mormon girl and more like a monologuing super villain.

“Do you knop what I want to do today, Pinky?” “Well, I think so, Brain. Try to take over the world?” “Yes! I want… NO! I mean NO, PINKY!” “No, Brain?” “No Pinky! We are going to TRY TO VISIT ALL THE MORMON TEMPLES IN THE WORLD!!!” “But Brain, we don’t even make it to church every week! How are we going to….” “QUIET, PINKY! I’M THINKING! AND PONDERING! AND PRAYING!!!!”