25 Tuesday Jul 2017
Posted in Petit Passages
Went to bed last night with the realisation that all the world’s a sham, except maybe the art of bread-making. Supplying fresh wholesome handmade loaves to the local community, donating what’s left at the end of the day to charity. Betty’s Bakery. No! That means Continue reading
11 Tuesday Jul 2017
Posted in Opinion
Tags
academia, arts, culture, emotion, human experience, music, Opinion, sociology, thoughts, writer, writing
How to begin a manifesto? Fiery-veined passion propelled me to grasp for words that equalled Chopin’s effect. Then, having failed that, I scrambled for pictures; moving pictures, still pictures, pictures of girls posing as dryads, twirling ballerinas—I even enlisted the help of one Joe Wright, filmmaker extraordinaire. All of this, to no avail. My folly, I realised with aching clarity on this cold winter afternoon with only his music for company, stems chiefly from the vain belief that Continue reading
26 Monday Jun 2017
Posted in Notes
Tags
books, english, english literature, lit, literature, writer, writing
Literature
Literature about literature
Literature about literature about literature
Lit of my life, fire of my lores!
My thing, my thought.
16 Friday Jun 2017
Posted in Petit Passages
Tags
art, art gallery, greek mythology, literature, prose, writer, writing
I loathed to leave the gallery. In the darkening light of dusk its magnificence expanded outwards, casting an enchanted aura over its surroundings. Even the parklands opposite where I walked became magic at its touch. Still I walked, stopping every so often to glance backwards, whereupon I beheld with marvellous longing the architecture to which I could return time and again. The consequence of my backward glances, I am happy to announce, was that I was simply very late for supper. Had I been a hero in a love story and the art gallery my deceased beloved—I am sure you have all heard of the poor chap—it would have been lost to me forever.
12 Monday Jun 2017
16 Tuesday May 2017
Posted in Beauty
Tags
art, chopin, cinema, feelings, imagination, mood, mood board, movie, music, nature, romanticism
09 Tuesday May 2017
Posted in Uncategorized
Tags
business, change, childhood, food, growing up, life, memory, migrant, migration, nostalgia, prose, writer, writing
There’s something incredibly comforting about Greek delis—the grubbier a deli is, the more homely I find it. This has everything to do with The Greek Deli being a permanent fixture of my Inner West upbringing and also says everything about mine being a creature of habit, in other words a lamenter of change. Continue reading
30 Sunday Apr 2017
Posted in Conversations
Tags
1920s, dialogue, downton abbey, drama, england, flappers, humor, jazz age, screenplay, script, television, tv, tv show, uk
LADY MARY (smugly, to a baffled Lord Grantham) Your niece is a flapper, accept it.
LADY ROSE (exquisitely thrilled by the fact that she is finally being recognised and accepted for what she is) I am not a flapper!
19 Sunday Mar 2017
Posted in Beauty
Tags
book, education, english, german, high school, language, learning, literature, prose, sociology, university, words, writer, writing
Linear, Germanic, and impressively gothic in appearance (it’s the ä, the scher and the unfamiliar arrangement of familiar alphabets), the italicised word at the bottom of the page enticed and incited in me what can only be described as a rush of desire accompanied by the urge to gratify it, like a neon sign that blinked Continue reading
05 Sunday Mar 2017
Tags
1950s, america, culture, elvis, elvis presley, icon, music, musings, Opinion, pop culture, rock, thoughts, twentieth century
‘There’ll never be another Elvis,’ said the old man to the impersonator. But there needn’t be, not when he is survived and granted eternal life by his works, influence, and legacy. Why would we need another Elvis when he is the one and only? The king never died; he is unsurpassable; long live the king.
the rose garden 