When I was in college, I had the notion I’d become a photojournalist, traveling the world – no roots, just me and my camera on assignment for National Geographic. I hadn’t been off the East Coast at that point, or even on a plane but I had an incredible wanderlust. It was an exciting prospect but, alas, one that was not to be.
Oh, don’t feel sorry for me – it wasn’t like I was George Bailey, ready to go, steamer trunk in hand, when time and again something came up to thwart my plans.
It was more lack of planning entirely on my part – a vague dream with no idea how to make it happen and plus, I really wasn’t all that skilled with a camera.
And I didn’t have any money. Or a passport.
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