Although the crisp April air gnawed incessantly at my exposed fingers and nose, I felt warm and blissful as I looked over Amsterdam Avenue from my perch upon Revson Plaza. Though the rest of my tour group was continuing to the next spot of interest, for several moments I took in my surroundings and fantasized a future walking the campus as a student, rather than a visitor. And, as I fantasized, the discordant city suddenly found rhythm and my heart was longingly beating along. I had come to tour Columbia because, due to growing up with the inevitable restraints of a town of one thousand people, over time I had steadily developed a self-inspiring dream of truly understanding the philosophical workings and interrelations of our often enigmatic
