I Married Warren Wilson College

Ruby Karyo | February 1, 2024


I got married to Warren Wilson before my life started in marriage. Warren Wilson taught me how to be a wife to my books, so here I am, being a wife in both worlds, at home and school. It all started when I got pregnant with my daughter, Money. With her beautiful spirit, the nature of Warren Wilson drew her to our home. 

So I picture a perfect day, an ideal future —and all seems imaginable. I close my eyes to envision it every day like the nature at Warren Wilson. Like Warren Wilson's dreams of my future for artistic books, career life, and inventive and creative senses, the mind of the curious, I dream of it as marriage. Learning, love, friendship, motherhood, and marriage have become my Warren Wilson. It involves my family, life, and best friend. I love this marriage that would last me a lifetime, even after I'm gone. The memories, the teachers, the food at the cafeteria (the salty pasta at the Cowpie Cafe with small food that can't fill my stomach), the funding of my rent, when I had my daughter, the support and care were the most effective breath of air that warmed my heart that I mattered.

My favorite teacher, Paula Garrett, becomes my mom-mentor, and her beautiful wife, Donna, becomes a supportive hand. That was when I smiled again — a place where spirituality can sense the care and sincerity of humans. Race is a by-product of nature, in my experience, and that is love (Loving Oath Venerate Energy).  

Fast forward to the universal law of nature, creating a place of proposal marriage that has already affirmed its proclamation. It was the surprise gesture of a ring put on a finger and clothes to match a proposal's reoccurrence, green and white to remind nature again.  I recollected that everyone cared when I met Warren Wilson, and then I decided to get married. 

The memories and pathways of the school have become entities of my culture. The herbs, farm, garden, greens, trees, air, river, and the space it caricatures bring the momentum to higher heights. Time grew faster, and the seasons changed: autumn, fall, winter; then I missed summer days when everyone was gone but remained. Their footprints, their voices, the nature of Warren Wilson remembers—their blueprints to their destination.

As a book gem, autonomous of my spiritual and natural guidance, I married where my life matters the most, where my voice belongs, and where destiny already integrated its course. The dream of enchantment to save lives. A change to continue its existence, the library — to kiss, hug, and make love to the existence and breath of nature. When everything feels different than marriage, maybe you can look up to see the white clouds and the green nature to remind yourself of perfection; after all, everything may be perfect. That's marriage in the eyes of perfection, maybe in the eyes of me as an adult, but never as a child. Let's say it is, and it would be. It will be and must be. I married home, and now I am home. Moments aligned realness reveal identity emerged desirably (MARRIAGE).

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