To Make an Echo

I want you to take a second and just look at this picture. Think about the sounds, the feelings that echo through it. Look at this photo as if it were your own memory; what song is she playing?

When I look at this picture, I can simultaneously feel my heart breaking and being repaired. The song she played during this shoot that followed me is "i love you" by Billie Eilish. To me, this shoot was more than just a random Friday activity; it was something we began creating from the moment we first met.

Just hours after our introduction, I sat in my teammate's room- crying, with only Jules there to console me. Usually, I would be embarrassed by this display of emotion, especially in front of someone so unknown- but for some reason, Jules never felt like a stranger. Our relationship quickly became one of solace and support. As we discussed our brightest and darkest moments alike, she grew to be someone I could consistently lean on.

There's something so warm and welcoming about Jules that makes it impossible not to be your rawest, most exposed self around her. Just as Billie sings, "Never been the type to / let someone see right through," Jules has a way of seeing right through whatever facade you try to put up. This is one of the factors that made our shoot so eerily beautiful.

The next detail that created such an unmasked, emotional piece of art is that Jules is NOT the type of person to take more than her fair share of space (although she clearly deserves to). So, when we got to Seelye Hall to take photos, she tried making a case to not actually play the guitar- to not disrupt the silence. I quickly shot this idea down and urged her to take up space within this moment.

There were many nerves at first; fear of being a disturbance, of not acting the right way, of not playing well. But you could see these worries slip away as she started strumming Billie Eilish on the guitar. I let Jules do what she wanted as I ran around, climbed over tables, and lay on the ground trying to find the right angle. None of this phased her. The moment of this photograph became something she owned, and I was just fortunate enough to capture it.

With the sorrowful melody of "i love you" haunting the hallways and classrooms, it felt as though even the building was listening to her play; it was encapsulating. This was a side of Jules I had been waiting to see for so long, the side that was willing to command attention- that said, "I'm here, are you listening?"

Even the light filtering through the window became a commentary on being seen; You can't see the bend of her elbow or the point of her shoe. The table covers her face so you can only see a slight, bittersweet smile and the softness of her chin. But even with parts of her physical being hidden, her soul is so clearly not. Looking at this photo, I see the heartbreak and deep sadness she carries, and the brave face she puts on despite it. In this photo, I see Jules.

So, dear reader, think about how you will take up space today. How will you walk into a room and force it to perceive you? How will you make your voice echo until even the trees, the buildings listen to you?

And to my beautiful Jules- keep playing the damn guitar.