I once shared that the only famous person I’d want to meet would be Dave Matthews, and solely to relay that listening to their band’s music during art school gave good company as well as inspiration while making things out of clay and traveling to take photographs. Then I went on with life, giving it not a second thought.
Until the day he walked in front of my red truck as I waited at the crosswalk on a gorgeous, sunny Saturday in Seattle. I will be forever glad that I cut through a very crowded Green Lake on the way back to the frame shop where I worked.
In that second, I saw two choices: keep my word and actually tell Dave, in spite of how shakingly nervous I suddenly found myself, or drive back to work and be filled with regret for years ahead.
In record time, I made a u-turn, parallel parked the truck, and thought aloud, “Now if I were Dave, what would I do on a day like this with family…probably get an ice cream cone…” Looking up, there stood an ice cream shop before me. And the rest, well, has become one of my favorite stories.
I learned that day to also dream bigger, because if it came true, we should really shoot for the moon. Now I aspire to make uniquely beautiful and meaningful photographs and to tell stories to bring glory to my maker, and to share how the thread of love connects all of us together. To create a bit of happy on this trail and to always see the good in life, as inspired by my friends Fran and Jane.
With much gratitude,
“You have to take risks, he said. We will only understand the miracle of life fully when we allow the unexpected to happen. Every day, God gives us the sun — and also one moment in which we have the ability to change everything that makes us unhappy. Every day, we try to pretend that we haven’t perceived that moment, that it doesn’t exist — that today is the same as yesterday and will be the same as tomorrow. But if people really pay attention to their everyday lives, they will discover that magic moment. It may arrive in the instant when we are doing something mundane, like putting our front-door key in the lock; it may lie hidden in the quiet that follows the lunch hour or in the thousand and one things that all seem the same to us. But that moment exists — a moment when all the power of the stars becomes a part of us and enables us to perform miracles.” ― Paulo Coelho, By the River Piedra I Sat Down and Wept