The room was suddenly rich and the great bay-window was
Spawning snow and pink roses against it
Soundlessly collateral and incompatible:
World is suddener than we fancy it.
World is crazier and more of it than we think,
Incorrigibly plural. I peel and portion
A tangerine and spit the pips and feel
The drunkenness of things being various.
From “Snow” by Louis MacNeice
So what’s this all about, anyway? I wish I knew. Once I lived on a working cattle ranch on the coast of California. Now I live amongst the spires, kebab vans, parks, and pubs of Oxford. In between, I was a student of politics and a rather half-hearted Red Sox fan in Boston.
I first came to Oxford to study international relations and my subconscious must have taken this literally. We met in a pub on my first night here; now I live with my lovely, charming, and bearded partner (“the Man”) in a house full of books. They are our entertainment, our furniture, our decoration, our vice, our love, and our livelihood. He’s a freelance researcher and I’m writing a book. I don’t think either of us is destined for an opulent life spent on yachts in the south of France, which is a bit of a shame, really, as I have a penchant for buying clothes and a suspicion that I might be able to get used to fine dining, but, all in all, I think we’re okay with this.
This blog is “incorrigibly plural”; it’s concerned with place, mostly, but what this actually means changes with every hour. Geography of the mind, the soul, the body’s place on a map. Borders and boundaries. The flâneur, the wanderer, strolling the pavement, seeing the city.
Or, if you wanted to put it more plainly, you could say this: my blog is whatever I want it to be.
Contact me at email@example.com