Newtown is a unique place. The contrasts here constantly captivate me. It feels abandoned of a Sunday morning, yet so alive by night time. The sun sets over buildings that look as if they’re from another century long gone, but are filled with people who look like they belong in a century yet to come. A jazz band doesn’t sit in a pub to play; they walk down the street with their instruments and many people don’t even glance to see them. It’s Newtown. Newtown’s version of normal is different.

College life is nestled in the middle of this suburb of absurdity, and it brings the contrast all the more alive to move from a lecture room where the gospel is assumed to a street where the gospel is taboo. There is blessing in such a contrast, though; it means that our minds can never drift too far into the clouds.

Last night, I wandered along King St sleepily, trying to shake of sickness with the city’s version of fresh air. Here’s a few moments that I glimpsed.


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