I quite enjoyed stepping off of a plane and into unfamiliar territory. Then onto the bus, with no concept of where it’s taking us-I simply check off “French Quarter” in my mental itinerary.
My my is this place alive and draped with colour. The people are loud, the food is spicy (and fried), and the streets are lined with dreamy, intricate architecture.
You might be wondering why I am here. Well, I’ve taken up journalism: a world I never really had intentions to enter. I would have never imagined it bringing me here, to a national college media conference. Funny thing this journalism and what it’s done to my literary mind; many of my papers are beginning to read more like newspaper articles. But I’ve loved what it’s done to me. Aside from bringing me to new places in the world, it is bringing me to new places of people.
Most English majors, you’ll realize, are quiet with their normal and loud with their weird (not meant to insult, I myself belong in this category); we sit in corners enthralled in a book, usually some form of British genius. While journalists and PR majors converse with one another, discussing their go-getter ambitions! Haha, where am I?!
oh right, here I am.
And yet, the God of all things wonderful who made me for His purposes assures me that this is good. This Taylor thing. It’s good.
Thanks New Orleans.