And love does bruise

Oh my word.

What have I done?


I married my love, my best friend, my soul's mate. My heart. And I fall, deeper, with every sleep.

I can't see where I end and he begins.

And love does bruise and peel and itch and become and push and grow and beautify and hurt.

The best thing, I'm certain. But oh, the depths.

Half Orange Photography Winter Workshop: 1

This weekend's workshop was absolutely a blessing.  More on that later.

On our way home, my sweet husband drove and allowed me to gab, think, and write.  And he helped me gab, think, and write.  He rocks.

We were trying to define my personal style (as per the advice of the Halfsies girls), and came up with a few words.

Here are a few things we said:

• Classic with "quirk"
• Spunky
• All-American + casual
• JCrew with Anthro "accents" ( = Made Well?)
• A little different.

My sweet love bug also said that I "...don't follow social norms of what's 'supposed' to be worn together."  I think I'm glad he said that.  I'll let you know when I know for sure.

I think I like these descriptions.  I don't want to pose as the most crazy person ever, though my personal goal in life is to be as much like Jess as possible.  Hmm.  Hmm.

(a side note:  Nolan (big dog) is currently dragging Nellie (wee bit) around the living room via a towel shard they both have a death-mouth-grip on.  Adorbs.)

Anyhow, why are we defining my style?  Great question!  To paraphrase my sweet friends, the way I dress, the way I decorate my house--that's my perspective, my style.  I need to capitalize on that look in my photography.  I want my photos to reflect my style and go together, thus achieving constancy.  There will always, always be someone better, doing something different.  But there's only one Becca Egger! (which is not what google or facebook will tell you, but pff on them.

So, the search goes on.  The goal has been set.  I am on the hunt.  Watch out.

Want to add to the list?  I promise I won't go narcissistic on you.  Probably.  No, definitely not.  I think.  Comment and find out.  Boom.

xoxo Bec

Workshop

Hello my lovelies.

I went to a workshop this weekend, and it worked my shop, if you know what I mean.

More to come.  The wind is starting to blow.

xoxo Bec

Sara + Alyssa

Oh these are the sweetest sweetie pies in the world!!  We took these photos just a few hours ago, but Jeff was out for basketball games tonight, and I didn't have too many chores around the house that needed to be done, so...I went ahead and finished these!  I'm pretty excited.

xoxo Bec

For the good

Heard a great thought on the radio.



All things work together for the good of those that love the Lord and are called according to his purpose. Romans 8:28


Not everything is good, but everything works together FOR the good.  


xoxo Bec

The Worth of a Life

This is going to have  nothing to do with photography and everything to do with everything we never want to deal with.

I'm going to be extremely frank as I write this.

This weekend, I took nine students to Dallas for the Texas State Beta Convention.  The weekend was great.  There were speakers, skits, talents, and about 1,300 high school students from across the state.  All the students were extremely well-behaved, although my group was, of course, the best of all of them.

"Unfortunately" is the most understated transition word I could use at this point, but I know no other.  Unfortunately--devastatingly--between our last two events, a "General Session" and the annual dance, a student fell several floors in the hotel and was killed.  Unfortunately--devastatingly--this happened inside, with several hundred students and other hotel guests nearby.  I'd give anything to change the fact that my students were among those close enough to understand what had just happened.  

As a side note, the hotel employees, local emergency workers, and all hotel guests responded admirably.  None were disrespectful, all were upset and concerned, but none erupted into panic.  Respectful, and as calm as possible, all treated the moment, and every slow and aching moment after, with the utmost reverence.

I won't go into the details of the emotions and reactions of what happened in the moments after.  Suffice it to say, mourning began quickly.

Within the hour, we had checked out of the hotel and were driving home, back to moms and dads who could hopefully explain and love and hold better than I could.  And the car was silent.

And I didn't know what to say.

By the grace of God (I do not say that flippantly), I was calm enough to drive.  I was eerily calm.  I found a few things to say.  Perhaps I should say that a few things were found for me to say.  We talked about how it was okay to be sad, or maybe not as sad as other people in the car.  That it was okay to cry, or talk about something else, or just be really quiet.  That everyone would react differently, and with different timing, and that we would all respect that.  That their friends at home would not, could not, understand, and that we should not hold that against them.  That this was a unique experience, and unique grieving would be necessary to get through a "recovery," of sorts.

We tried to think of something to do for his family and school, with little luck.  There's nothing to do.  Except show them love and respect.  We all agreed that respect was vital.  We would always treat that night, its memories, and its future implications with respect.

And all the way I drove, I thought of different funerals I'd been to, for accidents like this.

Amanda.  I was a freshman.  We'd played softball together the year before.  

Sue.  A friend's mom.  We were about to be seniors in high school.

Stephen.  A K-12 classmate.  I was a freshman in college.  

David.  This school year.  An athlete at Jeff's school.

And oh, the pain we all felt in those days!  The ache of regret and confusion, the burning of anger.  The frustration of the world continuing to turn.  The guilt of wondering, if mourning was so painful for me, what about people who actually were close to these individuals?  None of these people were my family members.  None were my best friends.  None were found in my contact list.  The deadening realization that these funerals would continue.  

And so we grieve.  We grieve for human loss, we grieve for a lack of a sense of completion.  We grieve for a family that will not feel whole again.  We grieve for a community who has lost a son.  And I also grieve for my students, who now know that every moment is thisclose to tragedy.  


I yearn for the reunion of this young man and his family, and believe it will happen one day.  I cry out for the loss of innocence of so many young people.  Now they know the worth of a life.  It's a heavy burden to carry.

Here is my xanga (remember that?) post from October 2005, after we buried Stephen.  Thanks for reading all these words.

Sunday, October 23, 2005

It's funny, the worth of a life. Immeasureable, for sure.  But in casual, discussion-type settings, the idea is tossed around so loosely.  We're able to discuss it so flippiantly, like it's no big deal.  What is the morality of taking a life, taking one's own life, etc.  Throwing around quotes, "isms" this and that, we come to a conclusion--or more often, not--and move on with life.  But there's another side to all this, a side filled with incomprehension, confusion, love, sadness.  I just don't get it. I was just thinking about how we don't really value human life until it's gone.  About how sad it is that I haven't even hardly thought about a friend in months, even though we'd spent the last 12, 13 years growing up together--but I hear of his death and find myself crying, wanting the world to stop for just a second, because that's what he deserves.  Then I thought again--how can I think every day about everyone who matters to me?  There are so many people who, upon losing them, my heart would break--but I don't call all my friends and acquaintences Then I got hold of myself.  Of course I have the right to miss him in death!  Not everyone is made to be my bestfriend, your bestfriend, and everyone else's best friend.  We all appeal to different people on different levels.  The friendship we had was great--not much more than surface-level, a "Hey buddy, how are you doing?" kind of thing, a dance at homecoming kind of thing--just because I never went and heard his band play or hung out with him outside of school (except Boy Scouts stuff when my brother was a lot younger...) doesn't mean I can't miss him.  I should miss him!  We were friends.  Period.  The level of relationship between two people does not dictate emotions, if they're appropriate or not, etc.  The fact is, we were friends.  I valued him in life, period.  I value him still.  Period. I thought I'd feel better than this.  Oh well, step by step.  I'll be back in Howe soon, guys. I do love you all.

xoxo Bec

Sandi | Bridals

Well, my brother married this sweet girl on Saturday!  Their wedding was both beautiful and fun--and I never once got out my camera!!  While I love love love taking photos, especially of love, it was such a blessing to be able to enjoy my family and help out my parents.  We had a great time!!

Anyways, the bridals--isn't she lovely?

xoxo Bec

Brittany + Moustapha

I AM SO EXCITED ABOUT THESE IMAGES.  Like, so so excited.

Brittany answered the Call about two years ago and headed to Africa--Niger, I believe.  Except for a brief visit, she's been there ever since!  She came home for Christmas and brought a dear friend with her.  This dear friend became her fiance on Christmas day! They head back to Niger tomorrow, and I am so grateful I had the opportunity to hang out with them today and get a few photos while we had the chance.

I told them about a thousand times that they were cute and adorable and perfect and lovely and aahhhh!!!  I meant every word of it.

xoxo Bec