Nearly every time I invite Kelly on a spontaneous adventure (or trip to The Bridge) she, with great exuberance, says 'yes!' (In fact, she is one of the few friends when asked to pose for photos for my photography assignments will do so with excitement, hence this series of photos).
Kelly is a curious, gracious question-asker with a holy boldness. She has a spectacular memory down to the smallest detail and brings life and laughter wherever she goes. She is wise in the deepest, most compassionate sense of the word and I've yet to meet another person who shares her passion for knowing each person that crosses her path.
She's a sister sort of friend and one that invites silence as space for honest conversations. When she asks me, "Kate, how are you doing?" I know she values the truth not just the pre-programmed, "I'm fine. How are you?" I know this because we're a few of the night owls on our floor and have had many a conversation in the early hours of morning. I know this because, after returning from a month in Poland, she was one of the first who greeted me and listened to my jet-lagged account of my time abroad. In fact, that day was my birthday and due to travel, Kelly was the primary person I spent it with (besides the dear friends with whom I traveled).
Kelly has grasped what Shauna Niequist describes in her book, Cold Tangerines:
"But this is what I’m finding, in glimpses and flashes: this is it. This is it, in the best possible way. That thing I’m waiting for, that adventure, that move-score-worthy experience unfolding gracefully. This is it. Normal, daily life ticking by on our streets and sidewalks, in our houses and apartments, in our beds and at our dinner tables, in our dreams and prayers and fights and secrets – this pedestrian life is the most precious thing any of use will ever experience.”