When you show up, I’ll say – Hey, let’s give this a go. You’re gentle and feel warm – we can be silent and we can crack jokes. If this sounds good to you, I’ll be your beggar queen – my cheap metal bracelets turn pink against my skin. I loathe glass slippers, but you […]
x Read more xI believe in fairy-tales, but it’s complicated. Now, before I go on, it has to be said that the original folk-tales collected by the likes of Charles Perrault and the Grimm brothers were, in fact, quite hardcore and, in many cases, did not even have fairies in them. If movies were to be made after […]
x Read more xDear Angela Carter, Forgive me for writing to you while I still have many of your books left to read. Either way, I already know you wrote the book that will remain my absolute all-time favourite – “The Bloody Chamber” – and, if you’re kind enough to bear through these lines, I will tell you […]
x Read more xPeasant girl. Mad. Woman soldier. Saint. Loved by a murderer. On speaking terms with angels. Her heart did not burn, but the only portrait drawn of her from life was lost. The closest thing is one from 1485 where her hair is drawn from her stylized face. She seems at home in armour and […]
x Read more xWhen I was a child, I saw a film where two siblings – a girl and a boy – who ran away from home and lived hidden inside an art museum. If my memory isn’t playing tricks on me, the girl, who was the eldest of the children, was very fond of a sculpture representing […]
x Read more xHello. My name is anca and I’m a heterosexual woman, but popular opinion has it that the kind of men I like are “not real men.” This is something that is being driven home to me every single day. Every time I read an article about male androgyny (which is ultimately just a personal style option […]
x Read more xThey feel like they don’t belong and find it hard to identify with the temperament and values that are prevalent in the community they were born into. Such people can’t even remember a time when they felt differently and, instead, their memories, right up to the earliest ones, are infused with a strange sense of […]
x Read more xAs a woman, I am a body on display before being a person. Once, in summer, a man wearing a t-shirt that looked about to explode over his protruding stomach literally grabbed me in the bus stop. Everyone there aimed their accusing looks at me, even though I was about to cry and had to sit down, because I’d began to shake. Perhaps the way I shuffled my iPod was provocative. Perhaps my basic jeans and t-shirt were. In summer, taxi drivers think it’s ok to go into advice mode and announce me that if I drink, I will be raped and it will be my fault, and that I deserve to be beaten for drinking anyway. In summer, 15 year-olds hanging around street corners make loud comments about my body.
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Painting by Catrin Walz Stein
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