A Snapshot of Dixie

28: When Dreams Come Knocking

DIXIE

"Photography has nothing to do with cameras and everything to do with you. As a person. As a maturing artist. What inspires you? This week's homework assignment. Dig deep into what inspires you—a 2000-word essay on my desk next Friday. I'll see you all then." My middle-aged professor Mister Olson ends today's lesson.

Collecting my things, I gather them into my daisy printed leather backpack and throw it over my shoulder.

Smiling from the fantastic class, I take my phone out of my back pocket and text Tucker, asking him to call me when he has a chance. His last show was last night and surprisingly, I didn't hear a peep from him. I assumed he crashed afterward since he's been tirelessly working on writing songs.

"Hey, camera girl, you ready?" Hurley shouts from the doorway.

"Be right there." I say, seeing a few of my other classmates chat with him.

It's been nice having Hurley to talk to since I haven't made any other friends yet in my two weeks of college. Although there was a note on my door a few days ago that said I would be getting a roommate, at least that gives me hope I'll have someone else to chat with.

"Dixie Mae, could I have a word?" Mister Olson asks.

"Sure."

Walking towards him, I feel nervous, wondering what he could want.

All my classes have been fantastic so far. I've been trying hard to remain focused, given all the unknowns surrounding my life over the last month. 

"I'm not sure how this got into my mailbox, but it did and it had your name on it." He pulls out a photograph from a yellow folder and shows it to me.

"Heavens to Betsy! How did you get that? I'm so sorry, Mister Olson..."

He chuckles and pushes up on his gold-rimmed glasses. "Don't apologize, Dixie Mae. This snapshot is remarkable! Could you tell me what you were trying to capture when you took it?"

My eyes zoom in on the photograph, baffled by how it got into his hands. Glancing between my teacher and the photo, I clear my throat and realize I need to give him an answer.

Focusing on the picture, a smile spreads across my face, remembering exactly what I was thinking.

"I just finished a difficult conversation with someone who at the time once meant the world to me. I turned around for one last look and the silhouette of his image perfectly described how I felt at that moment. Disappointment and sadness, but a ray of hope lies on the horizon. I told myself right then and there that no matter how I felt about him, it was time for me to chase my dreams."

Floating off from my words, I realize how I got the best of both worlds after that harrowing day. As hard as it was in the moment not to jump into Tucker's arms, I held true to what was in my heart and in return, I got all of mine back. The love I've always wanted and the life I've yearned for all wrapped into one. It's hard to think of life getting any better than this.

"That's beautiful, Dixie Mae. Do you have a name for it?"

Shaking my happy thoughts, I look at Mister Olson. "What do you mean by a name for it?"

"Well, most photographs have a name. Something that tells us what your image represents. For example, one of my favorites is Man Jumping the Puddle by Henri-Cartier Bresson. The title is very on point, but the meaning behind the words can hold all the wonderment that you want people to feel from your photograph. For me, the image represented a choice. You stay on the ladder or jump in the puddle, knowing the result will earn you soggy socks and muck-filled shoes. It's an interpretation that banks off your life."