More: Literature
Yesterday Once More: Me, Anorexia Nervosa and Karen Carpenter
There is no light at the end of the world only solemn-wounds and trees that haunt in the heavenly country where I live. Everyone...
Diary of a filmmaker, the fox and the curtain
I woke up with my hands full of leaves. Marakana and Lonmin are all over the news. My brother the wolf guy, the lone...
Alcoholism: Cloud Briefly Visible For A Moment Above Zelda Fitzgerald’s Head
I think of total exhaustion and being. How it takes me from winter to summer. Then I think of you and the space, the...
The Renal Unit: Paper Towns Of A Borderless Woman
The hospital is a lovesick climate. The blessing of an emerald day.
Kite-flying. The fabric of a stream. The hidden wings of a child. The...
Ode to my Mother
There is a dwelling that I exist in. This far out between heaven and hell she is, my mother is still beautiful. She was...
Molo Swaziland
It is the sun-drenched space that strikes me first in the car. There seems to be so much of it. Almost immediately I fall...
Mars Stolen Away: The Genius Of The American Poet Walt Whitman
I’ve been away a long time. I’ve gone to heaven and back. The hostile folly of the handmaiden’s rope twisted in my hands.
The flaming...
The Romantic Dream Of Reading Jhumpa Lahiri During Struggle And Depression In Lockdown
Jhumpa Lahiri is an impossible beauty. I started reading her again during lockdown remembering The Namesake and The Lowland.
I take pictures of female writers...
The Pioneer Doris Lessing, The Unaccustomed Earth of Rhodesia
Women novelists or rather women who write know about pain as subject matter.
Pain. Nobody knows about pain or the memory of pain or that...
On the page the novelist-poet questions in Kiran Bhat’s seminal work: We of the Forsaken World
The passionate outsider is people. Male people, female people, the displaced, dispossessed who live within the boundaries and structures of psychological extremes.
In a broken...