When you first see the bouquet in the third room of the Museum Tot Zover – Amsterdam’s mortuary museum – you might mistake it for a dried out array of flowers. It’s only when you look closer that the fine blonde, light brown and grey hairs distinguish themselves, and you either feel validated in your macabre fascination, or you get totally weirded out. This is the room of mourning oddities, and it details the rituals and practices that we might find morbid or downright creepy nowadays.
This is truly the last step before you can call yours an MA, but it’s probably one of the most painful steps in the process. Here are some tips on facing your corrections when you’re almost there.
When you come from a country like South Africa, where heat is the norm and snow is a legend, waking up to even a fine dusting is the stuff of dreams.
My 90 days in one of the most iconic travel destinations starts now. I hope I’m ready for it.
Writing and finishing a thesis is an emotional roller-coaster that doesn’t quite end until all’s said and done. This post explores my last few actions as a student and what’s in store in the immediate future.
When it’s all said and done, you have to go back and make sure it’s said and done well. Find out how to do that with 8 easy tips.
Every thesis-writer reaches a point when they are just about done, but not done enough. That last bit is always the hardest. Read about mine in Chapter 4: Please, No More.
Now that there’s some distance between myself and tutoring, I feel it’s safe to publish a post that has been burning a hole in my account for at least a year. At the time I was a first-year tutor for the second time round, and every two weeks I received a flood of written assignments…
A couple of months ago I made the impulsive decision to enter a very interesting short story contest called ‘Joust’. Run by One Throne Magazine, the contest prescribes the first and last sentence of a story and requires the writer to fill a 1000 words between – all in the space of 24 hours. I thought…
I usually take changes in my stride, but this time my next couple of moves are largely uncertain and extremely vague. There’s much to lose, but I’m hoping that there’s much more to gain.
There’s a certain slant of light, On winter afternoons, That oppresses, like the weight Of cathedral tunes. Heavenly hurt it gives us; We can find no scar, But internal difference Where the meanings are. None may teach it anything, ‘Tis the seal, despair, – An imperial affliction Sent us of the air. When it comes, the landscape…
When you’re wrapped up in a project, it’s difficult to see how far you’ve come. I’m about half way with my Master’s right now, and all I can see is how far I still have to go.