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.

Sunday, 19 June 2016

Summer Reading, the 2016 edition

In a summer that involves me moving (three times, one transatlantic), a two week jaunt around Spain, a Latin course, three festivals, working two summer schools, turning 21 and, at some point, doing some dissertation research, I assume I'll have time to read a book or two.

You asked for it, so u got it: this summer's (very optimistic) reading list:

Tuesday, 7 June 2016

A crown of twelve stars

"And there appeared a great wonder in heaven; a woman clothed with the sun, and the moon under her feet, and upon her head a crown of twelve stars..."

Wednesday, 1 June 2016

Philly, The Reprise

One of my newly-found favourite blogs, SS&SB, quotes a 1997 slogan from the Philadelphia Tourism Marketing Corporation in her biography. "In love with the city that loves you back". Nothing could be more true.

Friday, 6 May 2016


Rain on tram tracks and buses trailed by a hook and eye link. 44 hours and 20 pages to go; goodbyes have been missed and promised to be deferred as if leaving it unsaid means it won't be true.

Wednesday, 4 May 2016

Desire Path

At 2:30am on Saturday morning, early in the term, I was in a frat boy's bedroom, letting the sounds of the party downstairs be drowned out by the Latin music my flatmate and he were dancing to as they showed us the dips and spins that puts our English lack of rhythm to shame.
Forty five minutes later, we were bundled into a car speeding down the highway.
Fast forward one 7 mile hike, and my legs were dangling over the side of a 50 ft cliff, watching the sunrise over the valley.

Friday, 29 April 2016


There's a kind of gorgeous innocence to living here. A place where there's snowball fights and snow angels outside my building in winter, and slack lines, hammocks, and picnic blankets in summer. There's always at least three frat boys jumping out of line in the dual carriageway of Locust Walk to noogie one of their brothers who's heading in the opposite direction. Always someone from class mouthing hello at you as you both rush to opposite ends of campus.