Fiction. Poetry. Lifestyle.
We need the Arts now more than ever to give us some encouragement and hope. In acting, I found a way of going back to myself when I felt lost. In literature and writing, I found the power of critical thinking, of challenging people’s minds and of telling them stories. It has always been the Arts that I resorted to when I felt low. How could I ever give up something that has become such an integral part of who I am today?
Is Mexico violent? This question is certainly the one I have heard the most these past few months. Every time I talk about my experience in Mexico, the matter of violence is systematically brought up, explicitly or implicitly. Sometimes, it even ends up being the only question asked.
I lean my head on the window and look outside. The rain is pouring heavy, bashing and dashing against the windowpane. I see it wash ….
Gapyeong is similarly a ghost town. The streets are empty, and the noise from our group echoes across the river and into the mountain range. Our presence is disruptive and almost offensively loud. I come in and out of focus. People are singing. Someone pulls me into a conversation about Brexit. Another tries to practice her Korean on me. I repetitively tell her I don’t understand what she’s saying, but she just laughs. I later realise she was telling me she likes beef. Wonderful.
It’s Thursday morning. I’m here, in the kitchen, putting the kettle on and waiting for the smell of coffee to fill me in with peace. ….
Spasms of unrelenting misery assault my body. Wreaking havoc with its unsympathetic weapons created for ministrations of torture. My attacker mercilessly holds me captive in my own frame. A prisoner to a biological and physical default with no key to unshackle me. My own body believes me to be beyond redemption, accusing me of crimes I have not committed. Unbending when it comes to compassion, it enforces unjust punishments upon me…
Pairs of eyes rovetoxic in naturein savvy glancesincomplete jots.At once alarmed,by harum scarumsof folk crowdingin sap-like waterparrying headstrong.Left to consider oaths,garish on-field and sky,they muster ….
Cold, bare, unfamiliar and all too lonely, this Falkland island was perhaps the vital ingredient in the creation of Nell’s not-quite-novel-almost-memoir-mashup-masterpiece. She had travelled, after a Global Fellowship scheme run by Boston University, motivated by the frustration and fear of artistic failure, to this small island in the Atlantic Ocean. All in the name of an unwritten novel.
I know, white is not a color. Scientifically, it is even an absence of color. However, I must say that I have rarely seen such a beautiful absence, such an amazing nothing. After spending one week in Mexico City, my best friend and I decided that it was time to discover another part of Mexico. After long researches in our travel guide, our choice ultimately falls on Taxco…
Unfortunately, I have never been skilled in the kitchen. I have been known to set off the fire alarm every time I fry an egg and despite eating pesto pasta twice a week, I can never remember how long fusilli needs to boil for. However, considering the fact I’m supposedly an adult, I figured it was about time I learned a few recipes and wow people with my South Korean cuisine. So, under the guise of a Christmas present for my partner, I booked a two-person cooking experience…