Nagy
Editor’s Note: Views expressed in guest columns and letters to the editor reflect the views of the author, not the views of The State News.
People have been asking me what’s been wrong lately. Apparently, I’ve been off. I tell them all I’m just fine, but the truth is, maybe I’m not. But there’s just nothing for someone to say to “I think I’m losing myself” or “I don’t know where home is anymore.”
I’ve traveled a lot in the past few months — Mississippi, Tennessee, Florida and various cities within Michigan to cover events for work. I’ve moved into two apartments and back into the dorms. I’m in such a state of go all the time that some of my stuff hasn’t been unpacked from move-in day. I’ve practically lived out of a suitcase for about four months, and I thought I wasn’t fazed by it.
Places don’t have meaning for me anymore, not in a homelike sense, anyway. They carry pleasant and bad memories alike, but I can’t think of a place to call home.
My dorm is just a place to sleep. Going back to my hometown, which I haven’t spent more than a day in since the end of May, brings nothing back to me. The apartments I was subletting had their own decor, pictures and memories. But I didn’t plant any roots of my own.
The only thing I’ve found comfort in is the belief things always will change, and I can always count on the open road.
My life has become a state of chasing moments because I’m a photographer and that’s my job. And I love my job more than anything, but sometimes I worry my life is capturing other people’s moments and that I’m not making enough for myself.
And maybe I’m not just chasing moments; maybe I’m escaping from the responsibility of creating my own.
It’s daunting to realize the life you live entirely is your own. Where you live is your choice. Who you choose to share moments with is your choice. And the choice to escape responsibility is your own, too. You can blame everyone else for your misfortunes, but the fact remains that you are in control of your own destiny, whether you fail or succeed.
The fondest memories I have are the moments where I lost myself — driving with the windows down and the music blasting, walking on the dirt-ridden paths of Bonnaroo, sprinting across the field after football games to capture “the shot.”
The freedom of having nothing on your mind except the moment is an addicting thrill. Forget the homework and the stress. Forget answering the phone that’s been attached to you 24/7. Forget counting down the minutes you have to sleep and walk to class and work, and forget you have to call this person and that person. In a moment, all that stress is gone.
I turned off my phone for the first time in a year when I went to Bonnaroo this summer. No texting. No calling. Nothing.
It was such an invigorating break to have nothing to worry about except finding a spot to lie on in the grass and watch the sun set. I finally had a quiet moment to think, relax, to do whatever I wanted. I could just be.
The moments after shooting football are the best. I love sprinting to catch up with the players with 20 or so pounds of camera equipment strapped to me.
I weave between them trying to find the key players of the game and shoot their reactions. I wedge myself between photographers and TV people, everyone in a frenzy to catch “the moment.”
And there’s something about being on that field, all the fans screaming and the people jostling — that energy makes me feel alive.
In those moments, I’m completely taken over, and I just soak in the then and there. I chase the feeling, and sometimes the span in between can feel like filler because sitting and watching TV on my futon doesn’t feel the same as crouching down at the end zone and getting hit by an overthrown ball in the third quarter.
Is a moment home? Or is it a way to escape?
And I wonder if that’s a proper way to live, to just chase the next adrenaline rush, the next memory.
Or should I live the way my immigrant parents live, in the American dream home — one a stay-at-home mom, and the other as a blue-collar carpenter.
Support student media! Please consider donating to The State News and help fund the future of journalism.
But I want my life to be an adventure; that’s why I’m going into journalism.
Sometimes people ask if I can do this forever. “Can you really live with the hours? You’re always working.” I know I can, because as sad as it might sound, my passion for my work might be where my home lies.
So maybe my home is a collection of moments, because no matter where I go, two things are for certain: Things always will change, and I’ll always have my memories to carry me.
Julia Nagy is a State News photographer and a journalism sophomore. Reach her at nagyjuli@msu.edu.
