wonderland | wanderlust

alice. south african but has spent the past several years between cape town, paris, florence, and new york. 21 years old. likes musical instruments made of wood, a single ginger cat, rooibos tea, scones, and figs. francophile interested in poetry, literature, food, photography, theatre, film, music, and people who make/do all those things. sometimes likes to run in fields and forests. currently figuring out how art can make an impact in the world. lover of sundays and breakfast. despiser of the sensation of cotton balls pulling apart. hoarder of note due to overdramatic tendencies and an extreme fear of forgetting. still learning.
Home /Ask/ Pinterest/ 8tracks/ Flickr/ Archive

highlights of this weekend:

-attending the heforshe event at the UN and listening to emma watson, ban-ki moon, and a whole reel of other incredible people speak about men’s role in supporting gender equality
-picnic w friends in the park feat. squirrels trying to steal our vegetables and dip
-climate march!!!
-eating my first ever veggie burger (I know)
-buying tiny cacti for our apartment and placing them on the windowsill
-discovering a vegan brunch place right next door to a vegan bakery that makes maybe the most delicious apple cinnamon muffin I’ve ever eaten

just blew all my money on books (oops?), none of them were for school (double oops?), and I’m drinking really bad coffee, but I’m still on a happiness high!!!!!!!


C.S. Lewis, Perelandra
Submitted by magnanimousrex.


C.S. Lewis, Perelandra

Submitted by .

Vincent van Gogh, Plain Near Auvers, 1890

Vincent van GoghPlain Near Auvers, 1890

conversation snippets in new york (or any city for that matter). the things they reveal! the things they hide! the mental conversations they prompt for you! in life, we are forced to perpetually be in our own company, and so we naturally converse and cultivate sound and discussion around us. we receive the information comprehensively, in a context we comprehend likewise - the context of our own lives. we are the centre of our own mini-universes, for the most part, whether that be in discussion, in watching films, in listening to music…and from an auditory standpoint, when we are static - when we sit down for a meal with someone or find ourselves in a movie theatre - sound is the moving entity. but in cities, when you are in motion, somewhere between point a and point b (so not really anywhere at all), sound comes at us in pieces, and it levitates - suspends itself in mid air, it feels. and it’s fun! today, while walking with my friend in the west village, an old man and woman approached one another as we approached them, they hugged just as we were passing, and I heard the man say to the woman, “I haven’t been back here since the last time.” it’s refreshing to escape yourself for a fleeting moment for the sake of listening to someone else, and then, when you’re pulled back into yourself once more, you have a new starting point from which to collect new thoughts.


I can’t wait for winter because that’s when all mosquitoes die and go to hell where they belong

If you define writing as any kind of scribble, any kind of trying to mark on the world, then you have the oral, dance, choreography, performance art, architecture. I had a feminist architect help me design this addition to my study. Some of us want to take those marks already inscribed in the world and redo them, either by erasing them or by pulling them apart — which involves deconstructive criticism. Pulling them apart is looking at how they’re composed and the relationship between the frame and the rest of the world. In this country the frame of reference is white, Euro-American. This is its territory, so any mark we make has to be made in relationship to the fact that they occupy the space. You can take any field of disciplinary study, like anthropology: that frame is also Euro-American; it’s western. Composition theory is also very Euro-American. Thus any of us trying to create change have to struggle with this vast, very powerful territory. It’s kind of like a fish in the Pacific Ocean, with the analogy that the Pacific Ocean is the dominant field and the fish is this postcolonial, feminist, queer, or whoever is trying to make changes. Before you can make any changes in composition studies, philosophy, or any other field, you have to have a certain awareness of the territory. You have to be able to maneuver in it before you can say, “Here’s an alternative model for this particular field, for its norms, rules, regulations, and laws.” Especially in composition these rules are very strict: creating a thesis sentence, having some kind of argument, having logical step-by-step progression, using certain methods like contrast or deductive versus inductive thinking. It goes all the way back to Aristotle and Cicero with his seven parts of a composition.

It takes a tremendous amount of energy for anyone like me to make changes or additions to the model; it’s like you’re this little fish going against the Pacific Ocean. You have to weigh the odds of succeeding with your goal. Say my goal is a liberatory goal: to create possibilities for people, to look at things in a different way so that people can act in their daily lives in a different way. It’s a freeing up, an emancipating. It’s a feminist goal. But then I have to weigh things: OK, if I write in this style and I code-switch too much and go into Spanglish too much and do an associative kind of logical progression into a composition, am I going to lose those people I want to affect, to change? Am I going to lose the respect of my peers — other writers, artists, and academicians — when I change too much? When I change not only the style but also the rhetoric? Then I have to look at the young students in high school and elementary school who are going to be my future readers, if my writing survives that long. And I look at the young college students, especially those reading Borderlands: How much of it is a turn-off for them because it’s too hard to access? I have to juggle and balance, make it a little hard for them so that they can stop and think, “You know, this is a text; this is not the same as life; this is a representation of life.” Too often when people read something they take it to be the reality instead of the representation. I don’t want to turn those students off. So how much do you push and how much do you accommodate and be in complicity with the dominant norm of a particular field?

Gloria Anzaldúa, from “Toward a Mestiza Rhetoric: Gloria Anzaldúa on Composition, Postcoloniality, and the Spiritual: an Interview with Andrea Lunsford”  (via commovente)

summer makes the world feel like the inside of a lipstick tube

this is the recording of the cellist in the subway (album art = random photograph on my desktop…I don’t know…)

interrupted by subway sounds and the arrival of the L train

this music made me all buttery and melty. the sound of the cello is so nostalgic and smoky. I die