Riding the first wave: Lockdown in Paris
Society Anatoly Kozlov Society Anatoly Kozlov

Riding the first wave: Lockdown in Paris

Society

Lockdown can feel like prison. No long walks, nor catching up with friends. Everyone you know is scattered across the city, out of physical reach. Policemen patrol the streets. You sit alone in your room, grim and anxious, perhaps even depressed.

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Fire
Poetry of Life Thomas Helm Poetry of Life Thomas Helm

Fire

Poetry of Life

As the yearly heat begins again, the city comes to life. With lockdown eased, the roads pulsate with cars, and the terraces of bars are brimming with drinkers and diners. Those eerie days of March, of emptiness and birdsong-haunted avenues, have started to recede. Perhaps all this will be a memory soon. How much normality will be restored, if any?

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Meditations: Fire
Images Zanna Images Zanna

Meditations: Fire

Images

Given that everyone can now make very passable images with their handsets, to reach another level it is a matter of nuance: how to trick the machine to show the perceived but otherwise unseen.

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Light without shadows
Music David Braid Music David Braid

Light without shadows

Music

An interpretation of Welsh poet R. S. Thomas' poem 'A land' for mezzo-soprano, clarinet, guitar and piano. Performed and recorded by The Braid Ensemble with guest mezzo Emily Gray.

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Mercuries #1: Sculptural poetry
Poetry of Life SJ Fowler Poetry of Life SJ Fowler

Mercuries #1: Sculptural poetry

Poetry of Life

I'm interested in three dimensions and poetry, and what we might term sculptural poetry. Why is language two-dimensional when it is objective material? Why does this bleed into what we take the social engagement of reading, and speaking, to be? The head, the mouth, the tongue, the ears: objects in the world.

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Earth
Poetry of Life Thomas Helm Poetry of Life Thomas Helm

Earth

Poetry of Life

The month of May belongs to Aphrodite, the mother goddess, famed for love and beauty. This year the city seems to bless her more than other years. The shops, silent behind their steel shutters, announce a different kind of place: all sense of being in a hurry gone; nothing to buy, just days to live, without the noise and fuss of all those small invented worlds, the markets, schools, and mausoleums, competing for space with Mother Earth.

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Water
Poetry of Life Thomas Helm Poetry of Life Thomas Helm

Water

Poetry of Life

In Barcelona, they say the spring begins when orange blossom fills the cloisters of the old monastery, just off Calle Hospital, in the old town neighbourhood of El Raval. This year, no such initiation. The gates are locked, the library closed. Only birds frequent that fragrant desolation.

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The never-ending quest…

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