The Perfect Fit
I am pleased to advise the as-yet-uninitiated that writing a cover letter is just like writing a personal statement, except that your interests have been relegated to the bench. Don’t fret, they’re still included: it’s just time to be strategic about them, as any self-help book will tell you.
IDOLATRY (IF WE WERE MADE OF WATER)
a hunger burns – in the shade of yawning bowers bare arms slick with perspiration molten limbs in low blue light carve new skin and spread my lungs on tender soil; salt the earth idol built from nothing, will you raze the sky and ease my slumber while i am not loud you do not […]
Faltering
Words build up in my throat, sticky like caramel, to choke me. The tension spreads to my face as the backlog of muted syllables drives forward but doesn’t push itself through. My mouth contorts under the mounting pressure –I’m powerless. When the words eventually lurch out, past my tongue, tee
Review: The Spell of the Rose
Walking into New College’s ante-chapel, an intimate performance space has been demarcated in front of the organ screen, the typical set-up for a lunchtime recital. Part of the Friday Recital Series of the New Chamber Opera Studio, The Spell of the Rose promises to be “a tale of love, told th
Forgetfulness
i. through the eye of this coffee shop, schoolchildren crossing a bridge glint off the glass, chattering. thoughts caught up in little more than the mundane, little less than the ninth birthday party we forget when we’re twenty. fragments of pink cream candles and faces of yesterday.
Review: BARE
Three-quarters of the way through the queer rock musical, BARE, at the Keble O’Reilly Theatre, the shoulders of the man seated across from me started shaking violently – he was crying. This wasn’t the response I expected to a musical opening mid-prayer to the number ‘There’s a Bender Among
A Homage to the Women who Inspired Picasso’s Work
Think of Picasso and it’s impossible not to envision the women he painted, loved, and tormented. But the uncomfortable reality is that the tender intimacy between artist and subject did not translate beyond the canvas. The lives of the women who inspired him tell a more complicated story, marked b
Noticing
I know where the spoons go now and the mugs. Afternoon-slow. The first weeks meandered, chipped ceramic mugs wobbling with hot tea. You hum to the tap tap tap of the knife, noise lost in thick, citrus air. You leave the butter on the shelf so that it stays soft. Home of turned backs, [&hellip
Review: Dissonance
The Holywell Music Room had a very different atmosphere to usual for Hugo Max’s ‘Dissonance’. A film screen covered the organ, pieces of art were dotted around the space, paired balloons floated along the perimeter, people milled around. The air wasn’t as reserved as it usually is before a c