Snow Storms.

...Or what we define as such in the south.

{The Green House, laden in snow}

  

January 28, 10:16AM: Classes cancelled. 

The day began uneventfully. Skies were a flat tint of grey, the air was cold, and I was posted up in my corner by the window, mixing several hues of oil paints until I achieved the exact colors necessary to fill my stylized Rhododendron leaves for a botanical illustration series I'm in the throes of producing (more on that later).  A day without classes turned into a studio day for the most part. But alas, my "studio day" turned into a day of some painting, watching "The Help" and doing yoga with roommates, and cultivating my appreciation for the trusty space heater on loan from my sis who moved from St. Louis to Kampala last year (thus having no current need for a space heater).  

Eventually we made it over to a friend's house after dinner where things really got crazy with a rousing 1000-piece puzzle of a Charleston street scene and conversations revolving around our ideal team of comrades - friends and/or celebrities - in the event of a zombie apocalypse. I'm looking at you, Daniel Craig. 

Mid conversation, snow began to fall. And it was glorious. The group of us ran outside into a world veiled in white, lit by amber streetlights. The great snow "storm" of 2014 was underway.

{My beautiful campus, looking like Narnia)

We awoke to scenes like this lovely one, and after a hot breakfast and a piping mug of coffee began to do some walking. We walked to campus, and involuntary gave confused stares to two girls going for a run. "Don't be a hero." "What are you trying to prove?" we muttered under our breath. 

Our stroll led us to our friends' house where everyone was sitting together doing homework and insisting they needed to finish said homework before playing. It was remarkably easy to convince them that they were, in fact, incorrect. And just like that, we were outside playing, having snowball fights, sledding, wiping out, and letting Boone the snow pup out to explore. 

A happy way to spend a Wednesday, don't you think?

{The always-welcoming Gargoyle}

{My friends are fabulous}

{Georgians trying to sled = scooting kayaks down slush}

{Boone dog loves snow!}

I want to note that I am incredibly thankful for empty roads, pipes that are not frozen, a home that is heated, the SPACE HEATER, and that my family did not have to endue the abhorrent conditions plaguing the streets of Atlanta. Countless friends were stuck in gridlock traffic for 8+ hours, in what would otherwise be a 10 minute commute. People ditched their cars on the interstate and walked miles in pursuit of places to eat and sleep. My Young Life leader from high school gave birth to a baby girl, delivered by her husband, in the traffic... Amy, you are the most amazing woman in the world.

My wonderful parents and sister walked a few houses down to where our neighborhood meets a main road, and went from car to car talking to those poor souls trapped in the mess, passing out cider and hot chocolate, and offering our home as a place to stay. My mom said that the people she met had been sitting there for hours on end and only traveled less than a mile. Insanity.

I'm hoping things get all cleared up very soon, and that next time snow is in the forecast, folks get some salt on the roads and maybe stagger the school release times... But for now, let's watch all the Harry Potter movies, eat soup and cookies, and forget to put real pants on.

From the starstruck, legging-clad, slushy-grounded wonder that is Milledgeville, Georgia,
Happy snow day to you and yours!

Hello, Friends.

WELCOME ALL.

Over the past few years I have authored a few bliggidy-blogs. The original (also named The Light Traveler) is floating around in cyber space and is riddled with stories and thoughts from the high school days up until sometime last year. Said blog shall remain a mysterious blip in the abyss that is the world wide interwebz, unless I decide to resurface it someday, which probably won't -but could- happen. It's just too soon to tell. 

The other blog is called Seventeen Days Apart and is a collaboration with my soul sista-cousin-gurl-frand, Anna. It can be found here.

And now, I'm working with this site. It's the new and improved Light Traveler. It shall chronicle the life and times of a girl (me) making art, failing to make art, eating food, foraging, living in middle Georgia, graduating college, and figuring out what to do after that...

[I feel compelled to point out that at this very moment,  the "Beauty School Dropout" scene of Grease is playing on the nearby television, and I would be lying if I said I didn't feel a bit uneasy writing about graduation plans while Frankie Avalon all too casually sings about nightmarish scenarios like flunking midterms and not being cut out to hold a job. HORRORS.]

But lo, the fateful spring day is pending on which I will march gleefully across the stage on front campus and receive a decoy diploma. Correct, it will not be a real diploma, as at that point I will still be several credits short of graduating, with one last Spanish class to take in May and *hopefully* a few more to complete whilst studying abroad in Italy. I shall keep you posted as I update TLT with happenings and plans. 

All that to say, this is the blog of a Light Traveler. 

Happy reading, folks.