Here is an abbreviated version of an update on my life.
1. God is wonderful, and he causes me to heal. I totally resonate with the dozens of Psalms that say something along the lines of, "I called to Him, and He answered me." He totally rescued me from myself.
2. I have been working more recently. Getting out of the house and being productive is great for my life. Sitting around the house gets me in a very awful mood. I need to be out DOING things. Dad and I discussed this, and he is the same way.
3. Get me to Prague. Like now. I'm so ready!
3b: But I need to be where I am now. Emily and I talked about this. Don't wish your life away.
4. JOY BLINSON, I MEAN PRICE, IS TOTALLY A MOM! CANNOT EVEN BELIEVE IT.
5. My lenses have been sitting at Southeastern Camera for like 2 weeks because I don't have the money to pay for their repairs to get them back. I hate money!!!!
6. I'm going to Charleston with some lovely girls this weekend. Cannot wait!
With love and bad skin (for reals, shouldn't this have ended by 11th grade!?),
Megan
Bonus Features:
Quote that sums up my life right now: "Yay! After all this time of hating them, we like boys!" -Rachel
For real. Someone stole my future sunflowery-yellow-outdoorsy-with-twinkle-lights-around-dusk wedding. Like, all of it. Only mine will be slightly more colorful with slightly fewer sunflowers.
That's pretty much the only difference.
That whole blog is just full of eye candy. I'm a fan.
With love and weddings (Mary Hannah got married today, yaaaay!!),
Megan
Sometimes you just need a happy summer collage to lift your spirits. And a scone from Great Harvest bakery.
(Those hairpins in the first photo: I will one day buy them and wear them always)
Things that are getting me through this rut:
-Thoughts of Prague, even if I won't get there until next March
-Reading through Proverbs with my church and small group
-The color yellow
-Going outside
-Coffee
-Thoughts of visiting Scandinavia
-Keeping a mindset of freedom.
Right now I'm living at home, which I thought I could handle, but it's driving me crazy. I'm used to being constantly on the move at college, living in my own apartment and keeping my own schedule without a lot of worry about money.
Now I'm constrained by my falling-apart-car and lack of income, and I know I'm putting stress on my family financially as I'm having to spend my little income on photo equipment repairs, etc.
And I have to keep telling myself, just think about freedom. Think about how you'll have an incredible job, albeit six months from now. Think about how you will be living on your own in a new country.
With love and praying I can somehow come up with the money to take a Czech class this fall,
Megan
Right now, I feel like
David after the Dentist. Sluggish and in a blur and, "Why is this haaappening to me? Is this gonna be forever?"
I'm generally a happy person. But this week, I am just in a rut. I talked to God about it. It was strange for me to just say to Him the words, "I'm sad." And it sucks not to be able to control how I feel. I'm sad about things I cannot change, things that shouldn't matter to me anymore.
It doesn't help that I'm probably going to be in Raleigh till January, which is longer than I originally planned.
So I'm doing what I can to take my mind off of things. Right now that looks like hot tea and reading some Milan Kundera (sketchy, but brilliant).
With love and a bit of heaviness,
Megan
I do not know where to draw the line between being vulnerable and sharing tooo much information on my little ole blog.
I'll post something, then come back later and be all, "really, Megan? Was that necessary?"
Working on it!
With love and new Sharpies that said on the shelf $3 but were actually $12 when I got to the register and I was too embarrassed to put them back (darn you Wal*Mart!),
Megan
(I went to the Farmer's Market on Saturday. It was magical. Like in the ranks with Disney World. I just think there's something so earthy and beautiful about farmers bringing together produce that they planted, nurtured and harvested from their own land.)
This evening has been dedicated to trying to figure out a design/theme and logo for my website and blog.
It's the first step in my "Don't Be Afraid of Failure" plan. Today I finished editing photos from the second wedding I ever shot. They weren't stellar, and I was bummed. I realized that, if I want to get anywhere, I need to be willing to throw myself out there and make mistakes so I can learn and fix them! Holding back is a sure-fire way for me to stay mediocre.
So. I am taking the advice of some lovely people and sprucing up my website, creating an Etsy page to sell prints, and establishing a logo and cohesive theme for my little fledgling business, if you can even call it that.
With love and establishing myself as an artist or photographer or something,
Megan
This is a long post. But it involves me hitchhiking and nearly being stranded in southern Italy, so it has potential to be interesting. And it involves this place:
This morning, I went through my routine (established recently) of waking around 10, grabbing fruit for breakfast and heading upstairs to what I have now deemed "my office," the room above the garage which has become a really peaceful retreat. I opened my laptop and checked my e-mail (something I have become all too obsessed with). It's like the real mail, but more frequent. You hope to find something personal, something to brighten your day or some update you've been waiting on. *Cough* updates from the IMB about training *cough* But usually I get coupons to Borders and reminders from mint.com that your account is dangerously low. (Since when is $117 dangerously low? Mint.com, you don't know my life!!)
But THIS morning was one of those mornings that delighted me.
I had a facebook message (written in Italian) from a gentleman from Roccanova, Italia, who I learned is a Viola (family!). I quickly mustered my rusty Italian skills to reply to his message. I was so excited to have a little slice of Italy back in my life. This reminded me that I don't think I ever blogged about my Roccanova experience-- only THE singular most meaningful travel adventure of my life thus far. The full story usually takes me about twenty minutes to tell, so I'll make this a simplified version.
My freshman year of college, I took a first-year-seminar that was essentially a huge family history project. We spent the whole semester tearing through census records, conducting interviews with grandparents and compiling information about our genealogies. I was
particularly fascinated with my paternal grandmother's family, the Viola family. They immigrated to the U.S. from Italy in 1888. Gaitano (I think-- I don't have my notes with me) was a musician from a tiny town called Roccanova in the province of Basilicata in southern Italy.
When I studied in Florence in Fall 2007, I thought it would be really great if I could make it there as a sort of "pilgrimage," to take photos and see the town my family hails from-- maybe even meet some Violas if they still lived there. So in November, I got the guts to purchase a bus ticket to Senise, a nearby town. I would then take a local bus to Roccanova. No one could put up the 80 euro to come with me, so it was just me, traveling nine hours by bus to rural southern Italy. As I boarded the bus from Florence, I was terrified. I watched the familiarity slip away until I drifted into sleep on the overnight bus.
At 7 a.m., the bus dropped us off at a gas station on the side of a bypass. I figured it was right outside of Senise, and that I could walk to catch the next bus. I stepped into the gas station's bar and ordered a cappuccino. As I stirred sugar into my coffee, I asked the bartender where I could catch the bus to Roccanova. His reply?
"Non c'e."
There is no bus.
I am nine hours away from Florence on the side of an Italian highway. No one here speaks English, and the Italian spoken in the south is pretty different from that spoken in the north. Initiate freakout.
"Can I walk to Roccanova?"
"No. It's a dozen kilometers away."
That's when a gentleman offered to give me a ride. He was going to Roccanova anyway. I realized this was my only means of making the trip worthwhile. So I said, "ok" and for the first time in my life I hitchhiked.
When I got to Roccanova, I was introduced to a guy named Ernesto. He took me to the town center. We flipped through dozens of handwritten record books, searching for any records of my ancestors. Finally we stumbled upon the record of Matildo Leonardo Viola. The record even indicated that his father was a musician (which I had gathered in the research I did for class).
So Ernesto took me to a restaurant, the owner of which was a Viola himself. We talked and figured out how our families were connected (one brother way back when stayed in Roccanova, while the other immigrated to the States-- we're descended from their respective families). So I ate lunch with their family, and they fed me TONS of homemade pasta and cookies, and I made my way back to Senise with a ton of photos and some serious joy from meeting family I never knew existed, in a tiny town where my great-great-great grandfather grew up.
Thennn it got interesting!!!
I got a ride with Ernesto back to Senise, and I had like 7 hours to kill before the bus picked me up. I called the bus company just to make sure I was waiting in the right place, and the woman on the phone told me to wait in the piazza with the fountain. (Ok, it's a small town, and in the center there's a piazza with a fountain. Check.) Because it was cold outside, I went into a few bars and restaurants ordering pizza or tea, just to stay warm. I ended up in a bar where two women just started talking to me. (In my experience, Italian women had never expressed any interest in speaking with me.) So we talked about where I'm from, and about my adventure that day. When I spoke to them further, they realized I was waiting for the overnight bus back to Firenze.
Angela, who was pregnant and actually owned the bar, said, "You know the bus doesn't come into the city, right?"
"Umm... what?"
"The bus comes to an old piazza with a fountain outside the city. It's not safe for you to walk out there alone, in the dark."
"Umm... what?"
At this point, the women's husbands and a few other friends show up. They were about to go to Angela's house for dinner. One of Angela's friends used my phone to call the bus company. Sure enough, the bus would arrive at the deserted piazza outside of town, in the dark.
I excused myself briefly and went into the bar's tiny bathroom, where I promptly hyperventilated and fought back tears of stress and fear. Aside from the fact that I hadn't spoken a word of English all day, I was nine hours away from anything familiar. I was so afraid.
I came back out slightly more composed, and Angela said, "Come to our house for dinner, and we will give you a ride to the bus."
Still terrified, I nodded and smiled. I was relieved at the generosity of these strangers, but super nervous. It's typically a no-no to hitchhike and chill at a stranger's house, but I knew that I would be able to trust these people. Especially Angela, who was sweet, friendly, and who exhibited such an innocent curiosity about my life.
So I hopped in their car and went to their home. It was remarkably similar to an American home-- lots of picture frames and bookshelves, a dining room table, etc. We sat around and talked (I attempted to talk and take things in with my somewhat limited Italian skills). They cooked an UNBELIEVABLE meal of fresh bread and seafood pasta. The men skinned and cut up the fish (including those tiny octopi) and cooked them in the fireplace. It was such a sweet gathering of friends for what seemed like a weekly dinner-- each person brought something, and they all cooked together. After talking over dinner, Angela and her friend Nicholas drove me to the bus stop. I felt a huge surge of relief when the bus pulled up, with "Firenze" glowing in red letters above the driver's seat. Home. I hugged my new friends goodbye and made it back home to Florence in one piece!!!
(Seriously, I would have been stranded if not for divine providence and incredibly generous Italians. Best adventure ever. Also gave my mom a near heart attack.)
With love and glad for adventures,
Megan
After celebrating a friend's certification as an R.N., I drove home around midnight, windows down. As I drove, I kept seeing beautiful scenes that I wanted to capture with my camera: backlit steam rising from wet pavement, an old shed lit by a single bulb in the middle of a dark field, a deer grazing along the side of the road. When I got home, I decided to try for some lightning photos. This is the best I came up with. It looks like silly string, but whatevs. It's a start.
On my way home from a portrait session this afternoon (my first family session, and not one with stellar results), I drove past the Duke campus. My mind instantly flashed back to my senior year of high school, when college applications and entrance essays were at the forefront of my mind. I only applied to two schools: State and Carolina. And I graduated with a double-major in photojournalism and psychology. I didn't graduate from college with an incredible GPA, but I worked like crazy throughout school. But driving past the Duke campus made me wonder, what if I had worked harder? What if I had applied to other schools? What if I had graduated with a 3.5 or a 4.0? I could have gotten into an incredible graduate program if I had focused more on my grades. I called my mom and she quickly talked some sense into me, "you are doing what you love, what you are made to do," she said.
I know that my education continues throughout the rest of my life. I know I can educate myself by reading and really living. And I know that God has beautiful things for me, and in those things, I can create the kind of life I want. I just wonder what my life would have been like if I'd done things differently.
I am quite certain that I will love my new job. I am so ready for October to be here so I can hit the ground running with it.
I may not make sense at all.
I just started a Beth Moore study. I'm real excited about the Old Testament.
With love and lightning,
Megan
