This isn’t a long or wordy post, I promise. I just took a lot of pictures this weekend and wanted to share them. The I-don’t-give-a-crap of a title should also reflect that. Louisville, KY feels more like home than anyplace else in this country, but I usually don’t do as much there as I did this past weekend.
One of my little adventures included visiting The Hunger Games Exhibition at the Frazier Museum. Two floors of the museum had been recreated into scenes from the films, displaying costumes and props, interactive elements, and lots of reading material about the history of the books and movies. The Hunger Games was my favorite book and film series throughout most of high school, and visiting the world of Panem in such detail brought back a lot of my excitement and respect for the world-building and character development in the series. I took pictures of some of my favorite displays:
If you’re a fan of the Mockingjay, I would highly recommend a visit to the exhibition.
While in Louisville, I also paid a visit to my old school. It offered some humble perspective on where I was when I started college, and where I am now. My time there was valuable, and perhaps necessary, even if it was awkward and embarrassing and frustrating. I still have many regrets from that year, regrets that have collected like old friends. But it was a time God used to teach me and help me learn some of the mistakes not to make when I was given a fresh start at a new school.
There is a clock tower on the campus that I love and frequently tried to capture in photographs, but I was never satisfied with the outcome. Funny that I’m no longer going to school there and I can get a picture of the tower that I finally like. As I was walking back and getting into my car to drive away, the clock started ringing out the time: a reminder that all time is important, but time past cannot be changed. “Here’s to your future,” the clock was saying. “And goodbye to yesterday.”
My biggest excitement over the weekend came from getting to see one of my favorite authors on tour. He has written my favorite kids’ series, which has been a #1 New York Times Bestselling Series since the publication of the first book. Part of what makes the author such a hero of mine is the fact that he published that first book when he was only nineteen. The series, called The Land of Stories, is packed full of fairytale magic, humor, and plot twists that have kept me a fan since I first started reading them. I’m a little old for the books, but during the tour, Chris Colfer (the author) said he was too, which made me feel better about it. I was not able to get a picture with him, but I did get a signed copy of the final book in the series. During the tour event, Chris also shared his advice for aspiring authors, which is to always let the world inspire you and never let it discourage you.
The last notable event of the weekend was the time spent at my grandma’s house. (My grandma goes by Nanny.) Nanny is the last grandparent in my life to still be living in the house I knew as a child. (All of my other grandparents have already moved to smaller homes than those I knew growing up.) But now it’s Nanny’s turn too, as her house is just too big to keep up with. On Friday, I helped her pack up a lot of her things with the help of my siblings and cousins. The house is full of memories that I could take a very long time to describe: from eating Froot Loops and watching Disney movies on Nanny’s bed to running down the hallway full of picture collages displaying hundreds of happy family memories. I was able to capture some aspects of Nanny’s home before it was all packed up or rearranged, and they aren’t big pictures like the cozy living room or the lavender bedroom, which I will have no trouble remembering. Instead I tried to get some of the smaller details that seemed to stand out whenever I visited.
The following evening, I had one last chance to say goodbye to the house while it was still Nanny’s. Its most memorable aspect to me was the front porch swing, where Nanny would spend hours with us, singing songs from her childhood or making up new ones just for us. The sun had just begun to set, and I hummed those little songs while I took one last swing. Another song came to me then, and I’m not exactly sure why. It could have been the lyrics, but I think it was because I was trying to figure out how to capture those moments on the swing as a child and capture the moment now on the swing as an . . . older child? Adult? Person. Anyway, the song was “How Does a Moment Last Forever” from Disney’s new Beauty and the Beast. It’s the kind of song Nanny would have sung to us if it had been around when we were little. So I sang that song while I swung in the sunlight and said goodbye to another piece of my past.
How does a moment last forever? How can a story never die? It is love we must hold onto. Never easy, but we try. Sometimes our happiness is captured. Somehow a time and place stand still. Love lives on inside our hearts, And always will.
Minutes turn to hours, Days to years that go. But when all else has been forgotten, Still our song lives on.