Megan is so much braver than I am.
There’s a fierceness to the way she loves — unrelentingly, holding nothing back. There aren’t any walls in her heart, and when you’re welcomed inside (and you probably are), you’re ushered right into the warm and burning center. It costs her everything, and she pays in tears, but she never retreats and never, ever surrenders.
She just loves.
She’s the same the way when she decides to do something: she just does it.
Last year, she inherited unwanted, leftover jewelry from a distant relative and decided she would take the Blanche Devereaux pieces and turn them into something fabulous. And she did.
Then, when she’d made more pieces than she’d ever wear, she decided she would open a jewelry shop. And she did.
Now she’s sold more than a hundred of those fabulous pieces and is shipping handmade bracelets and earrings and rings across the globe every week.
Just because she decided to do it.
Last month, in honor of Megan’s birthday, we took a semi-spontaneous road trip to Savannah. We spent a long weekend meandering through the shade-covered squares and cobblestone alleys of the colonial city, and found refreshment in the butter-soaked lowcountry cooking and rest beneath the blooming dogwood trees. I didn’t take many pictures (sometimes it’s good to just be), but nevertheless here’s a taste of our little adventure.