Never Mind Picking Apples
I. I want to tell you about the tree. How the tree was tall, how it held its height in the way tall-kind do, assured of presence, as if all its life the sun had whispered, you will be tall and strong. As if all its life, the tree had believed the promises of the […]
The Lunch
Based on Monet’s ‘The Lunch’, set in his garden at Argenteuil Jean’s cheeks flushed red. The tower he had been building had come tumbling down, felled by the swift gale of his pudgy hand batting a bee away. The pollen in the air made his nose run, dripping onto the smart new sailor-suit Mama
Invisible by Design: Druidism in Modern Britain
On a blustery winter day, I went to visit Glastonbury, really for no other reason than that I hadn’t been before. I expected a small slumbering town, a few twee cafes, maybe a garden centre. But the town was buzzing. The cafes were vegan and the most prevalent shrub, it was plain to smell, was [&h
The Travels of the Bonsai
Towering above the rural village of Maekgwe in South Africa is the King-of-Garatjeke baobab tree. The tree is celebrated for its majestic size and age (some baobabs have reached 5000 years-old), and it functions as a town hall for the local community. The baobab is an iconic symbol of the African sa
The Isis interviews Richard Ovenden, the 25th Bodley’s Librarian
Entering the innermost sanctum of the University – the office of the Bodley’s librarian, Richard Ovenden – Kiana and I are probably as close to Elysium as it gets for book enthusiasts. The office is perched at the very top of the Clarendon building, Oxford’s answer to Greek temple archit
Constructing Transness
I’m scrolling through Reddit (strike one). I soon find myself fighting the urge to respond to every comment written by cis people who just can’t understand (strike two). “I wanted to play with boy’s toys, so I did – it doesn’t mean I’m a boy!” I keep scrolling. “I don’t feel lik
Postcard from Dún Laoghaire’s West Pier
A fat seal drags itself up the harbour To gnaw on fishbones. In my dreams jaws clamp Round my skull, bring brittle bits of me back Down towards the seaweed, sludge and slime. I see it as I feel it. Troops expected France but spilled out of ships Here, at what was then Kingstown, To […]