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One Tuesday afternoon the library was where I was going to cram for my next exam

One Tuesday afternoon the library was where I was going to cram for my next exam. The eighth floor was my refuge and there was nothing to stop me from mastering the art form of economics. But little did I know there would be noise on the eighth floor that would distract me.

After trying to tune out the noise, I decided to venture up to the ninth floor to find a quiet place.

Hearing the ding of the elevator and then silence told me I should be able to focus now. Since studying for my last exam, I became fond of those wooden desks with blinders on each side.

As I walked around the ninth floor with economics in mind, I found a desk with blinders on each of the sides, opened my book and began to study. Soon I got frustrated with studying and my eyes began to wander, but because I was barricaded in the desk I had no where to look but forward.

My eyes caught the sight of words other than economics and I couldn’t help myself but to read the poetry that engraved the top of the wood. I read to my self, “Big Larry wuz here 11-2-06. Mary loves Henry. I <3 Alpha Chi Omega.”

I read almost everything the desk had been branded with over the years. Then something else caught my eye; among all of the documented visits and declarations of love, at the top of the wooden blinder it said, “Don’t read this-STUDY.”

I couldn’t help myself but look over my shoulders and above my head to see if God was trying to tell me something. He was. After giggling, which made me look like a dufus in the desk with the blinders, my eyes and mind focused back on the principles of economics.

I know most would frown upon writing on desks and bridges but I consider most graffiti to be sentimental. Graffiti artists want so strongly to document their feelings that they chose a desk, wall, bridge or sometimes even a train (which my friend and I consider a scrolling marquee).

Reading is one of my passions. I love to read, and because I do, I want to read almost anything my blue eyes are set on. Graffiti is almost the happy medium between journaling and art.

If you ever get the chance to travel down Highway 167 South or North, there is a bridge tucked away under the trees that I always pass traveling home with some names in graffiti written on it. Seeing “Samantha” written on the bridge always brings me good memories of high school because one of my best friends was named Samantha.

And of course, you don’t have to travel far to see good graffiti. Probably some of the best ways to enjoy graffiti in Ruston is to take a trip to Sundown Tavern. There, you can find any name or just about any initials carved in the table or booth in the restaurant. 

I can’t say that I have never carved my name into the back of a desk or a chair, but I can say that I really enjoy reading graffiti (excluding the vulgar graffiti that is just there to be a terrible eye sore).

Sometimes I fear that our generation is becoming more inclined to not read as much as previous generations. So please read something, even if it is written on the back of a chair or on a bridge.


Lydia Earhart is a senior journalism major from Baton Rouge and serves as associate editor for The Tech Talk. E-mail comments to

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