two of my parents' best friends celebrated their twentieth wedding anniversary. and i was photograhper for the night. taking place in the country, down a hollow, and at creekside. there were candles everywhere; on chandeliers, along the water's edge, in the muck. vintage metal furniture was scattered around the area, with white pillows and old quilts. paper chains hung on the tree roots that swirled up the bank. there was a white flowered cake. the bass and violin played, a voice sung softly in the background. and the two stood in, ankle deep, and said their vows all over again, ones they had written for each other. i was seriously inspired.
my friend and my sister and i took our traditional afternoon trip to mainstreet. this time though, we were much more intrigued by the decor of the shops than by the items for sale. it was then that i wished for my camera, who was back at home. there were countless ideas and displays that we loved. paint-splattered dropcloths draped over living room sofas. wire shaped birdcages hung from ceilings. walls covered in crinkled brown packaging paper. we browsed through store to store, upstairs and down. waiting out the occasional downpour underneath onnings. and laughing like the old friends that we truly are.
in turn, the next morning was spent tearing pages from magazines and careful cutting. ink pens and skotch tape. i collaged on the mirror above the vanity in my room. someday i'd like to fill an entire wall of a room with a collage like this. that, or sheets of maps. i had a cup of tea. wrote a letter or two. dedicated a few hours of the afternoon to the working a five-hundred-piece jigsaw puzzle with my mom. and attended evening church service with my guy. was reminded of the promise that i belong forever to jesus. rarely does my mind begin to wrap itself around the vastness of that promise. but it holds true no matter what.