"I had the raddest of rad dreams," is how I thought I'd start sharing, finding the words while drifting from sleep to wake this morning. Now I'm not sure how rad I understand it was to be, but let me tell you anyway.
I was a guest at a wedding, with all different kinds of people like a high school prom, cheerleaders here, hip hop dancers there, stuffy fluffy poufs over here. I somehow assumed the role of wedding photographer, at first just capturing quiet candid moments. Soon I was organizing people into groups, giving them direction on poses, props. The atmosphere was fun and lively and people were waiting and I had to say you're next! I promise. And they'd laugh and wait anyway.
I saw it all through the viewfinder. At one point I couldn't get a group of people holding albums standing on a flight of stairs into the frame, and being below I couldn't capture the back row, no matter where I stood. On an instinct I ran to the table behind me, a wooden board on two horses, really, and jumped up on it to get the best view. The people gathered around, eating and drinking at the table were shocked for a moment, but soon caught up with the energy and cheered me on! By the time I was standing on the edge of the plank, instructing people at the other end to weigh it down like a see saw, I saw my subjects had arranged themselves on the flight of stairs so creatively... the albums they were holding were now color coordinated, and beaming up at me. I shouted out gratitude for making my job easier, and snapped away while the people below laughed and cheered at this wild photographer. More and more people flooded onto the steps to get into this mega shot and I jumped up with joy. I jumped up but didn't come down. I was floating. Up and up and up -- unafraid, high off endorphins...
I remember at one point slinging by camera down to hand it to someone before gracefully swinging to the ground from a rope. I remember losing that camera and all the happy faces I captured. I remember looking for Jason to share this moment, losing my smile at the fact that he'd missed it all.
I remember taking a walk on a bright spring day, my sisters and mom and I barely squeezing through a narrow path lined with little dwarf homes with little dwarf field flowers and little dwarf mailboxes and sunlight spilling itself over everything. I saw it all through the viewfinder. I woke with this tension, not fitting into the space of such beautiful surroundings, wanting to take it all home with me, not being able to.