A book or a prank? My interview with a budding Canadian novelist
There was nothing particularly unusual about Terry, the cashier at my local independent bookstore. He was a lofty middle-aged man with a thick Canadian accent, and he often gave me recommendations whenever I stopped by with my friend. Last Summer, however, he suggested something a little different.
Harvest
the best tomatoes grow close to the dirt. their cunning makes them sweeter, ripening in hiding like any masterpiece awaiting an end to incubation: dew-drops in shades of ruby glittering, garnet, sanguine beads slowly seeping, secretly, from spined vines and hives, from stems and suckers, tric
The Isis interviews Rebecca Black
“When you involve kids they will inevitably be exploited, because children can’t consent to anything in terms of working hours or signing contracts or being liable for anything… because they’re children”. Rebecca Black faced just this challenge in the entertainment industry at the
Holding for an Hour
Above a glass-blue day another broken angel sleeps suspended, arms straight and close on the hospital bed. Her breath rings round the room, blanketing the floor, and my eyes fall heavy, but will not close. Beside us, the violets in the vase appear to chatter blithely on, marking the seconds and min
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
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.
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
Artist of the Week: Sophia Kapsalis
Sophia Kapsalis is a designer and artist. Tell us a bit about yourself. I’m a second year studying Biology at Balliol, but my real passion lies in art and design. I’ve spent most my life painting, but in the last three-or-so years have been experimenting with pretty much any creative medium whic
“The bones and guts are on display”: Behind the sound and stage design of The Tempest
“The isle is full of noises, Sounds and sweet airs that give delight and hurt not. Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments Will hum about mine ears” (3.2.148) The first time I heard about the upcoming Oxford Playhouse production of The Tempest, directed by Costi Levy, was during an int