My camera roll is a time capsule that launches my brain back to a specific space. Lying in bed following an incredible weekend, my eyes roam through the collection of photos I have from the past days’ events. I sit peacefully in my bedroom recounting all of the grand happenings of my life in those humble hours of a Sunday afternoon.
The genuine grins and energy of this photo transport me back to marching along Broadway with my cousin after landing in Nashville a couple hours prior. We have a pact to visit each other every year, and this trip did not disappoint. I remember the exciting rush of flashing lights and flashy cowgirl bling in every direction.
A fresh smile shines across my face upon reflecting on the memory. The process of remembering is a gift because I get to relive moments all over again from a new perspective. I can account for memories I have made in the past, recognize areas I’ve grown as a person and continue looking forward to new adventures I wish to embark on.
Now that I’m in my third year, let’s bring it back to my first year at the university. All of those sweet memories now exist as an inkling of my imagination—a feeling. Moments such as stomping around in my Demonia boots and meeting some of my closest friends appear so distant. I am different, yet the same as the girl pictured above. At that time, everything was so new. Bleaching streaks in my dark virgin hair. Experiencing those magical first moments of friendships that would go on to change my view of the world and myself. I look back and see the progression of friendships since these initial memories. I connect the invisible web of my memory back to the present moment, relishing in the sweet innocence of a new friendship which has since blossomed into a lifelong connection.
Stumbling upon a wild mosaic wall on a stroll through the neighborhood of our favorite thrift shop. I find salvation in these moments. They are my army. Matching in our knit pom pom hats following our time spent shopping and enjoying a dinner complete with fun chat and ambient disco ball lighting at Jack Brown’s downtown. These are the times I am alive for.
It doesn’t matter where life takes us—we will always be connected. We found our way to one another by what appears to be fate, as if there’s some invisible string connecting and tracing us back to one another, always.
How about my first trip alone without my family? That was fun. I got stuck at the airport and had to spend the night all alone, aside from the stuffed bear I bring with me wherever I travel. The trip inevitably perked up once I reunited with my best friend, Nadia, In Oklahoma City.
We discovered crock, “cat rock,” (which the artist kindly gifted to me after I swiftly decoded the play on words) and (notably) my baby and barbie earring combo which have become a staple of my identity at this point. The photo provides a glimpse of my DIY purple streaks that a late night trip to Walmart made possible. They had a lifespan of about a week, before fading back to blonde.
These pieces add to the collage of memories webbed within my mind and contribute to the infinite connectedness between my friends and I. I live 1,218 miles away from Nadia, and 541 miles from my cousin, yet little trinkets from our time spent together make me feel a little closer to them. Every time I give “crock” a little shake revealing the wish bead hidden inside, I will think of the great times Nadia and I have shared together.
The pictures stored within the many labeled albums on my phone help capture the process of how I became the girl I am today. I am shaped by all of these instances, experiencing immense gratitude each time I revisit them. I am so fulfilled by all of the people and places I have interacted with, and feel lucky to know that there are so many more alluring moments of bliss to be spun into the intricate web of my unfolding life.
