The transition and accomplishment of a PhD might be seen by some as a privilege. Which it indeed is. However, what it also is, is the chance to have friends, family and colleagues come together, from different parts of the globe, to celebrate. Honoured to have been part of this triumph and transition of a good friend.
A beautiful day hiking up to Dog Mountain in British Colombia is a stark reminder of the nature that lingers often in our backyard, unbeknownst to us.
Travelling to places we once called home forces us to rediscover a place with new eyes, open to explore areas that were less visible to us when we were bogged down with the daily routine of school, work and other (often fixed) activities. Sometimes we need to take those travelling holidays in the places we think we know in order to break free from old assumptions of what is.
The wildness of the Canadian outdoors, the density of the forest and the wide-open landscapes are something deeply unique to that place in the world: a small tribute to the West Coast.
There was a time where the height restrictions on buildings were pretty strict in order to ensure that the mountain view was not obstructed. Those have since become a lot more ‘lax. However, it continues to amaze me how such strong geometric lines and edges, greenish-blue tinted glass and modern elements of architecture are able to blend in with the city’s bodies of water, mountain views and natural colours. Having said that, the city would definitely benefit from lower buildings, less cranes and more clear perspectives of its nearby natural surroundings.
Short, dark curls tumbling onto shoulders
A swing and laughter
The ickiness of green grass
The path; often value-laden.
Maybe I’m not the independent, career-driven feminist I thought I was.
One-handed chain holding
Bike paths and chariots
I have realised that feminism is having it all,
Just not all at the same time.
Not just conveyable colours
But nuanced ones
And colours of a certain place
The sky is different
Hemispheres but also personalities
Oxygen but also breathing space
Colours of this West Coast place
Temporary and yet always returning
“My colours, my honour, my colours, my all.”