When was the last time I’ve written a “deeper” post? Unknown, so why not throw in one.
On the bus back from NYC, the windshield wipers squeak at a rate I didn’t know was possible, and iTunes provides me with a cover to the incessant high pitched moments. Sutton Foster pours through my headphones…have I mentioned how much I love her. So, today’s feature is Little Women: the Musical and, as if I could have really forgotten my love, remembered it again.
Now nothing feels the way it was before
And I don’t know how to proceed.
I only know I’m meant for something more
I’ve got to know if I can be
This week I’ve been thinking about Georgetown. I would say I’m not sure why, but I do and I blame the Alumni twitter feed asking what moments made Georgetown…well…Georgetown for us. Images ran through my head at such a fast pace it was hard to keep up with them. Flitting images of cookie baking, smuggling a cake from the cafeteria, flag football on Copley Lawn. Chicken Finger Thursday in Leos, the big three movies of freshman year (Love Actually, Finding Nemo and Mean Girls), GUGS, and 400 little freshman faces that would torment and delight me for an entire year. I take a deep breath and I close my eyes and it feels like it was yesterday. I still think it was yesterday, it was 9+ years ago. I normally can’t explain to people why I loved it so much because it’s so much. It’s the professors that made my life better: Alyssa Webel made French so hard and so good; Diane Apostolos-Cappadona taught me about religious art, societal assumptions and was willing to take on a crazy Jewish Civ student and her thesis on Jewish women in literature; and the ever wonderful Amy Leonard, who made me write more about the church and sexuality (in early modern Europe) then I ever thought I would. As someone once said, I may have graduated with a degree in the best cocktail hour talk ever, especially in D.C., thanks for that Georgetown. Thank you for amazing friends, a Hall Director that fixed a little part of me without every knowing it, and a community that couldn’t and wouldn’t die.
There’s a life
That I am meant to lead
A life like nothing I have known
I can feel it
And it’s far from here
I’ve got to find it on my own
I look back at 17 year old Whitney, a freshman, 3,500 miles from home. But somewhere inside there was a fire and a zeal to make it work. Two months in, I fell off the path, I wanted to go home. Because my parents are wonderful, they let me…for 5 days…and then they made me go back. Thanks for making me go back to the people, to the place, to the experience. Without them I would have missed our run to the Final Four in ’07, the joy of regular trips to the Tombs and taking Studio Art, just because. I look back at it all, and the great bit is that I can look back. My little Canon point and shoot never left my side. I can relive our first snow of Freshman year and the last week, Senior Year, that we all had to spend together. I get to see it over and over again.
So when I explain Georgetown, I can tell it through photos that are apart of me, because of the ability to look back at the good and bad, to remember the moment and the feelings. To look at an image and be transported to that time and everything that you thought then. I look at the picture above and I like home, I think standing in line for a burger, I think of midnight conversations with pints of Ben & Jerry’s on the steps. So when I talk about why a girl with a degree from Georgetown wants to take pictures for a living, I think of my photo skills and I feel the goodness of such a decision roll over me. I send out engagement and family sessions and I love the joy that is expressed in such a thing. I love my clients. They make my day. Even as I am editing, I am drawn in by their emotions and expressions. Thanks, Georgetown for making me think that Cura Personalis was the most pretentious thing I had heard…then for making me believe in it whole heartily. The care of the whole person. Body, mind and soul. A moment that will live on forever.
A life of passion that pulls me from within,
A life that I am making to begin.
There must be somewhere I can be