It is bizarre to think that in less than 3 weeks, I will be on my way to SVU, embarking on an entirely new journey. I feel like it was just yesterday that I began high school as a ridiculously shy 13-year old freshman girl.
Now I am close to going off to college, and it is an odd feeling. I am so ready to begin, excited to meet new people, learn new things, take the opportunities that find me, and explore what is placed before me. It is a little unnerving, a little scary, but mostly I am filled with excitement at this new adventure.
I cannot help but look behind me as I look ahead. I have learned a lot about myself and a lot about the world around me. I have found that I am intelligent and have learned to stop denying it. I have learned that I patient with some things, but impatient with others. I am determined and stubborn. I am a secret romantic, but a tough gal who doesn’t take any bull. I’d always known I had a good hand with animals of all kinds (sans reptiles and insects other than butterflies and ladybugs), but never realized that I was pretty good with humans, too. I am a princess in lace and pearls and a cowgirl in dust and leather. I am a mess of contradictions. A garden with flowers, weeds and fruit. A sunny day and a monsoon. Muddy boots and sparkling high heels.
I have learned to pause, breathe deeply and revel. I live wide-eyed in wonder. I marvel at the little things. I watch clouds pass by and listen as the wind ruffles the leaves in the treetops. I examine little pebbles and inhale the scent of the world that surrounds me. I take delight in the small blessings. I enjoy dandelions and buttercups as much as sunflowers and English roses. One of my favorite smells is that of a book, my favorite sound the settling breath of a horse, my favorite taste the burst of peppermint from an old fashioned candy, my favorite sight a spontaneous smile, my favorite feeling the press of a shoulder against my own.
I have also learned much about family and friends. They are not two separate categories, water and oil, separated by physics, chemistry and tradition. They are mixed, like a drop of dye in a pool of water, or a glass of chocolate milk. Nourishing and sweet. A lingering taste, a stain on my fingers. I am a daughter, sister, friend. Perhaps one day a wife and mother. I am the advice giver, the face maker, the hand holder, the solid shoulder. But I am a reciever of these things as well. I am more student than teacher, but I have things to teach. I am the reader and the author. I live in a comedy and a drama, a fairytale and a news article. I am the photographer and the subject, the critic and the artist. I am the optomist and the pessimist. My glass is neither half full, nor half empty. It is two sizes too big, and filled of swedish fish.
I am not a portrait or a still life, I am a window with a crack in the pane and a sun-catcher hanging from a rusty nail. The door of my house is a different color than the shutters. My porch is home to mismatched rocking chairs overlooking a tree swing. Wildflowers grow on either side of my path, moss between my stones, and roses at my steps.
Whatever I am, I am ready to embark on this new adventure, but hold my photobooks and journals in my rucksack. A daisy is in my hair, my toes are painted blue, and there are swedish fish in my pocket.