Home to me is the sensation of peace on a Sunday morning; the sound of the cathedral bells tolling for morning service; the comforting memory of my mum’s bangles jingling on her wrists; the raucous sound of my brothers running up and down the stairs; my dad elegantly playing the piano and then pausing to… Read More Finding my Balance: My Changing Concept of ‘Home’
KNOW YOUR LIMITS This is something very few of us care to acknowledge. We like to think of ourselves as deadline-driven machines who can conquer any task in any given amount of time. It’s important to realise your own individual capacity for concentration and honour it. If you feel your mind wandering from your computer… Read More 5 SIMPLE WAYS TO BE MORE PRODUCTIVE
Writing is essentially an act of artifice. We channel our innermost thoughts into complex structures and eloquent language. We leave out the ideas that are perhaps not as good or too deeply personal to share. We seek validation. As humans, we intrinsically apply a filter to our expression. In academic writing, the need for structure… Read More The Act of Creating: Stories without a Shape
On Sunday 25th February, I watched writer-director Josephine Decker’s third film at the Sony Centre as part of the Berlinale International Film Festival. Decker boldly confronts issues of mental illness and identity in ‘Madeline’s Madeline’ with a remarkable sense of sensitivity and openness. This film is especially interesting in its attention to the nuances of… Read More WATCH IT: Review of ‘Madeline’s Madeline’
Be mindful of choice. Be conscious of pain. Let in the deluge of thought. The virtue of one’s own company is a forgotten therapy in today’s society. Spending time alone is something that is feared, rather than embraced. The demands of daily life – crippling work schedules, relationships, finances, the modern necessity to be sociable… Read More A Room of One’s Own: Creating space for the mind.
‘It was a queer, sultry summer, the summer they electrocuted the Rosenberg’s, and I didn’t know what I was doing in New York.’ An odd line for the start of a book, I thought, upon reading the opening of The Bell Jar. I had read about Sylvia Plath before: sadist, suicide fanatic, suppressed artist, but… Read More Sylvia Plath and the Art of Dying
After finishing my degree in English Literature, I travelled to the Yorkshire dales with my dad to visit the house of the Bronte’s – something I have wanted to do since I was a child. The maze of Haworth’s moors and precarious country pathways seemed to uphold the same shroud of mystery that had always,… Read More The Bronte Sisters: A Literary Obsession