CULTURE
To his alarm, great purple hammocks hung beneath his eyes, sore to the morning sun. Wrestling house keys to the car, it had stung to jog, spurred by the memory that he’d done mere nothing of the work his boss had sprung upon him two weeks back… too much
CULTURE
Image credit: University of Nottingham “New year, new me” is a cliche for a reason. Welcome to the first part of my weekly travel blog, where I’ll be posting regular updates on my exchange experience as an Australian student moving to the UK. Stay tuned to read more about
The storm is chaos. Flashes of light streak sporadically through the creases of your blinds - shining the tiny shoebox of a bedroom ivory. In between beams of light, the thumping and pounding of thunder force you awake. Every fragment of your flesh bumps up in a shiver at the
Family portrait 1 by Helen Norton, from the series of paintings “ Once Upon a Time there was a Man”, published in 1995. Part 1: “Hey Marcus!!! What's up with you?”, a voice echoes from the back of the bus. Marcus turns his back and scans the bus, faces
I know those eyes. The cold unfeeling blue. I know that malicious smile. The grinding and retching of the teeth. I know those freckles. The splattered pattern like a bleach stained dress. The blonde hair. The gaunt cheeks. The vacant stare. I know those features. Because they are features of
CULTURE
No matter what part of the world you live in, whether it be the sandy beaches of the Bahamas, the tranquil water villages of the Netherlands or the harsh deserts of the Outback, the one undeniable aspect of life is hate: hate for race, hate for gender, hate for actions,
CULTURE
We can throw ourselves into the belly of the beast and work ourselves to the bone to achieve our goals, but it’s all about a healthy balance. Sometimes you’ll find people who believe the way is more play and less work, sometimes you’ll find people who believe
CULTURE
Here squats a sandstone city, its streets choked by motley cloth, Crowd River; bank brimming over toes tucked beneath dark waters cloaked by shade of steel shoulders, hunched, crouching. Light ripples on its water, blending hues which glimmer a vibrant crescendo to grins glistening. Wealthy tourists choose cockatoo or kangaroo
CULTURE
I arrive at the Pavilion at 7:30pm in my best maroon suit. Stressing about my fingers. I’ve parked, engine’s off. Unfurl my fingers, staring, and thinking, they’re not broken anymore, and there won’t be an accident tonight that changes that. So, I go inside. The
CULTURE
Welcome back to high school, take a seat at your desk before all the good spots are taken. Just make sure you choose correctly. If you sit next to Nick, be prepared for every class to be an hour-long discussion about soccer. If you sit next to Mandy, your ears
I. In the deep woods, the decaying and overgrown world, the twisted vines snap, frail from whips of wind. I am consumed, by the hollowness of the night. Here lie the crystals, the mild candlelight and my sacrifice - a bloody, fluffy bunny. Crafted cantations carved from my carnal craze.
CULTURE
One of the most satisfying things to experience in film is a character’s ultimate downfall. Their entire world crumbling around them, leaving them like swimmers gasping for air 1000 kilometres deep below the horizon, a character’s flaws and sins paving the way for the most unbeatable obstacles they