It’s that time of year again — Christmas trees sit outside of hardware stores and string lights line rooftops. Cookies are in the oven and carols on the speakers. The holidays are here!
Host a reading specifically for bad iPhone Notes poetry, fingerpaint with your friends or write a song about the neighborhood cat’s secret life.
As I entered Literati, I walked by Grace Tulusan, author of “The Body Papers,” who sat in the back of the room with a small smile and an earnest glow in her eyes.
Christmas time is nostalgic for me. It always has been a time of reflection and celebration — a blissfully festive dichotomy in the midst of joyous December.
So happy was this man who had survived so much. It was almost like a concert. People danced through the streets while they went on their way, no doubt to find their own families.
In a society full of reality television and superhero franchises, the ability to refresh classic works as efficiently as National Theatre Live did is reassuring.
I must be one of the few RAs at the University who has been told to turn my music down by my residents instead of vice versa.
One aspect of Nézet-Séguin’s work that caught my eye was his level of comfort with being at the center of the stage.
Thanksgiving is the two-day-old meat in the sandwich of holidays that lies within the months of October through December. Halloween season is full of spooky stories and costumes. December is filled to the brim with gift-giving and snowmen.
Winter can feel like one big blank page, equally intimidating to artists students and humans alike. And so we fill it with our own warmth, our own art.