In Italy, home cooks invite strangers in to eat, and eat some more. Why go to a restaurant when you can taste the real thing?
Over the course of the semester I have become more withdrawn from the idea of 'hard news'. My best day will never be someone's worst day. I will never be able to grip a camera and watch as someone suffers, carefully adjusting the ISO or the shutter speed. One thing, however, has remained constant: my love for travel. I could read travel articles all day long. I am enamored by the idea of going somewhere new and writing about how beautiful people can be, how wonderful (or terrible) the food can taste and how the air smells when it rains.
My words can flow from my fingertips when I am in the mood. If I had just eaten an amazing home-cooked Italian meal in Italy, I could write ten thousand words.