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