Saturday, 3 September 2016
I'm a Shakespeare nerd; we all know this about me. And hopefully by now you also know that I'm also pretty mad about Widening Participation; about opening up forms and areas of education that we have been made to feel are inaccessible to us.
Monday, 15 August 2016
It's officially less than 10 days until Penn's class of 2020 move in, and I'm having severe #ragrets about not applying four years ago so I thought I'd give you a heads-up on where to head for a good coffee the morning after, and which of those let you camp out with your laptop and a stack of books for a good few hours.
This list is by no means exhaustive of all the good coffee shops in Philly (and actually doesn't even feature all I've visited) but these are the ones that come mega amyvnorris approved. Let me make u the Big Man On Campus for knowing the cool hangs whilst the rest of your freshman class is still heavily into Commons Starbucks.
Monday, 1 August 2016
a condition of place-based homeliness shared by people with common ancestry or heritage and who inhabit traditional, culturally defined areas or places statutorily recognized to be rural" - Chigbu (2013)
Wednesday, 20 July 2016
“Works of art are models you are to imitate, and at the same time rivals you are to combat.”
- Sir Joshua Reynolds
These are the words that inspired one of the most interesting exhibitions in London this summer; Painter's Paintings at the National Gallery. I've often thought of the artistic influences of painters, but never before had I really considered what paintings dominated the spaces in which they existed. Which works of art were so important that they had to own them rather than admire them from afar? Which paintings were so fundamentally a part of their artistic development that they felt they needed to be constantly surrounded by them, to live in a constant state of wonder, to strive towards them?
Sunday, 17 July 2016
Sunday, 10 July 2016
I met with Ellie in a tiny coffee shop in Back Bay, Boston, where we both said with certainty that exchange - her time in Paris, mine in Philly - isn't real life. It's a period of hyper-activity, of always being on the move, always planning the next adventure, always juggling five things at once in the most beautifully insane way. It's not sustainable; that part of your brain which reminds you of your limited time left when you wake up hungover after three hours of sleep and makes sure you stay committed to your plan to get on a three hour megabus to D.C. even though you threw up like five minutes ago can't be in overdrive forever.
It's four months of no real responsibility, and an awareness that on May 20th you'll suddenly stop running. But, as much as your feet hurt and you need a glass of water, you don't want to stop feeling the wind on your face.
Friday, 1 July 2016
I braved the throngs of people waiting fifteen minutes for an elevator to go up one floor when the stairs are right next to them so you didn’t have to; opening weekend at the Tate Modern was mad busy.
A whole new wing of the Tate Modern opened a couple of weekends back, doubling the gallery space and heralding what feels like a rededication of the southbank to the importance and accessibility of art.